Monday, May 05, 2014

The boy in Lithuania



Rough weekend.  Rough monday.  But I got to talk to this kid on the phone today for 20 minutes from the Chicago airport, heading to LITHUANIA and it made me so happy I can hardly stand it.  He was so happy and upbeat,  flOating on a cloud he was.  My mom

Today marks one week. One week my brother has been a real missionary in a real country and not in spiritual concentration camp in Provo, Utah. He is in Lithuania and is thriving. He's going to be such a great missionary and this coming weekend, is going to help baptize two children of a less active member who have been receiving lessons from the missionaries. Not to shabby for his first couple weeks on the job.

There is a 9 hour time difference so when we are going to bed, he's starting to wake up. He'll always be half a day ahead of us, but that's probably how he likes it. Last week, I got to talk to that brother of mine on the phone from the Chicago airport. We talked for about 20 minutes and it made what had been turning into a rotten day, one of the best days ever. He was happy and floating on a cloud. We laughed a lot, I cried a little, and when I put him on speaker phone to talk to Quinn, that baby looked every where for his best buddy and couldn't find him, so he just waved to the phone.

Willie has been gone for nearly 70 days. Time sure is flying by. Okay, maybe not for my mom, but for me it is. I just know he is in the right place, doing the right thing. I realize we've still got a long way to go, but in the blink of an eye, we'll be at the airport, silly signs in hand, fighting back happy tears, waiting to welcome his skinny butt back home.

I've always sort of struggled with the idea of missionary work - it's not something I've done, and isn't really something I want to do. The thought of being out on the street every day trying to find people to talk to about your faith and beliefs scares me. It's intimidating, and honestly, a little strange. Maybe because my only experience with proselyting "missionaries" of another religion are the occasional J-Dub's knocking on my door and me running to hide. It takes a very special and dedicated person to be a missionary, at any age. It is not something to be handled lightly. IT IS HARD WORK!

 My brother may have the time of his life in Lithuania, but he is also working his butt off, that's for sure.

Note:: If you want to read his blog, and your invitation expired before you accepted it or you didn't get an invitation, let me know and I can hook you up with some spiritual enlightenment via one really awesome 19 year old.

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