Learning to Dance in the Rain

You've probably seen it - one of those cheesy Facebook posts, a dramatic photo of storm clouds and some cutesy font reading "life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." Cliché, but perhaps there is some value to the saying.

This week I learned that some of the most beautiful moments in life occur in the midst of the storm. I mean that very literally, as last Tuesday Hermana Monsivais and I found ourself in the middle of a rainstorm that lasted all day. We didn't have any set appointments; our plan was to go to a certain neighborhood and contact houses to look for new investigators. This is by no means my favorite way to find investigators, and the rain certainly put a damper on my spirits. But I squared my shoulders, gritted my teeth, and went forward, reminding myself that "sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven."

Door after door, we were rejected (sound familiar?). "Come back some other day," they told us. "Oh, we were just about to leave. Another time!" My favorite was when we clapped at the gate and the woman invited us to "pasar! pasar!" We got as far as the front door and were explaining our purpose when she said, "That's very nice. Come back another day when you're prettier and less wet! Then I'll let you in." ...thanks?

Then we decided to visit a menos activo family in the area. This family keeps a dog chained in the yard that always barks like crazy when we pass by, but since he's chained up, we never worried too much about him. Also, even if he were to break free, there's a fence between him and us.
Well, he broke free.
And crawled through a gap in the fence.
And came straight for us.
I yelled at him and threw up my umbrella as a shield while my companion took cover behind me. After a few terrifying seconds, he decided we weren't worth the effort and ran off. But he's a black dog, and by now it was quite dark, and we were certain that at any moment he would come after us again. We left the area very quickly.

We continued walking - two cold, wet, frightened, and exhausted missionaries. I turned to my companion and said, "Let's just try one more house." We clapped at the first house we saw with lights on inside, and a young father came out. "We're missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We have a very special and unique message about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Could we share it with you and your family?"
"Why not?" he said.
"Oh okay. We understand. Maybe some oth- did you just say yes?" [not actually what we said, but certainly what we were thinking]

And that's how we met José and Cristina Medina and their two children, Lurdes(9) and Ariel(1). Truly a ray of light in the midst of the storm - a tender mercy of the Lord. We have already visited them twice, and they show progress. Cristina has accepted the invitation to be baptized if she receives a confirmation that our message is true, and I am sure José will not be far behind her.

I love you all,
Hermana Watts