Solo

I told him that our twins say that I’m the worst driver ever.  Before he got in, “He” is a Mexican man, a leader in our Church, we call him an “Area Seventy” and he’s over me.  Anyway, he asked for a lift to his home after our meeting last Sunday.  About halfway there, he turns to me and says “your twins are right.  Do you know I’ve had two heart attacks? I don’t want a third.  If you die, the Church can replace you in a day or two.  But if I die, the Church will have to wait until the next General Conference to replace me.  And that’s not ‘til March.”  He didn’t look like a man who’d had two heart attacks when he jumped out of the car at his home.  Not sure how he’s going to get home from our next meeting.

Some things are different in Mexico.  The Dr. Pepper cannery overfills its soda cans, so you get showered in DP when you pop the top.  Makes no difference if the can sits first, or you go slow.  And every 5th or 6th Whopper candy has no center, just a deflated chocolate ball.  Kinda disappointing.  There are 82 speed bumps on the way to my office.  164 round trip. Every day.  Yeah.

We struggled a bit getting the English speaking missionaries to mix with the Spanish speaking missionaries on their first day, and vice versa.  Until yesterday.  Instead of picking them up in two groups, we rented a bigger van and picked up the Spanish speaking missionaries at the mission training center in Mexico City, then swung by the airport to greet and pick up the North Americans.  Neither group speaks much of their counterpart’s language, so it can be a bit awkward on the 1.5 hour trip back to the mission office.  Yesterday, we got ‘em all laughing with language bloopers.  Like when I told a local leader that Janna is a “slut” when I meant to say that she’s “prepared.”  Or when my North American assistant, on his first day in country, asked in Spanish for a “beer” instead of a “napkin.” Or when my Mexican assistant was struggling with the word “focus” as he read the English edition of the missionary manual out loud in his room and found his North American companinons rolling on the ground laughing in the adjacent room.  Brought back memories of my first mission, 39 years ago, when I conjugated the word “member” and instead of asking a beautiful teenage girl if she was a member of the Church, I asked her if she was my girlfriend.  Same scene back then in the adjacent room.  Anyway, the trip back to the office flew by and they’re all pretty good friends now.

Janna’s been in Utah for a few weeks with hip replacement surgery, so it’s lonely at home.  I attended a seminar of all mission presidents in Mexico last week, the only single man there.  It helped that the seminar was in Huatulco, a beach resort in the southern part of Mexico, so I swam and body surfed between sessions.  It was all inclusive, so I ate some too. Oh, and I found a new taco place on the road to our home.  Better than “Super”.  By the way, if you’re a friend, stop writing me to tell me that when you’re at VG’s, you think of me.  For at least two reasons.

I have envied my dad and his baseball coaching career for years.  But now, near the end of my working years, I get to be a coach, sort of, of 120 incredibly unselfish young people.  I thought about Dad when I played catch with one of them a few weeks ago, a Dominican who was abandoned and homeless before his mission.  He’s a pitcher, with the hope of playing professional baseball when he gets back.  I “clocked” him at around 90-95 mph.  More than a year into his mission, no workouts.  There were only two gloves, mine and dad’s antique one.  Since I had to catch his fastball, I took mine and tossed him dad’s.  Dad had to be loving those 20 minutes.

Yesterday, I was teaching the missionaries about developing Christ like love for the people here.  One of them, a brand new one from Colombia, a 19 year old girl with “salsa,” the only one among her mom and 8 siblings who joined the Church after the missionaries knocked on their door in Colombia, serving here in Mexico without any family support, jumped up in tears.  We could feel her passion as she shared her life story, the love she feels from Christ, and the love she feels for the Mexican people.  She gets it, and when she was done, we were done.  The other missionaries got it, too.  No dry eyes.  This is an incredible journey with these young people.  I pray every day that time will slow down.

Janna and Hayley are recovering, for which we are very grateful.  All our family and friends are in our prayers.  Thanks for your support.  Looking forward to receiving Elder Tadeo from our Stake back home in just 6 weeks!