It's All The Lord's Work

It's All The Lord's Work

November 22, 2015

     It was a slow Thursday in the mission office this week. No phone calls to take care of. No emails that needed a response. I got to get in the mission truck with my elder for an apartment clean-up. It is always my dream come true! He drives. I study the landscape and drill him on our whereabouts. It is not glamorous work but it's all the Lord's work. I love it.
     One thing I have noticed since we have been here in Missouri is that people do not know how to drive. Just like all those people that do not know how to drive back in AZ when we travel to and in "the valley" You know those people -  The snowbirds. Do you know how I know that AZ Snowbirds and all of Missouri does not know how to drive? My elder tells me so.
     Now back to the Lord's work. When missionaries move out of an area, my elder will go back in and clean the apartment after he has taken care of the furniture. It seems like a lonely job. As I vacuumed the floors and he cleaned the bathroom, I thought of all the missionaries that had passed through that area since we have been here. I remember going out there one rainy night and delivering new beds to elders who had just washed EVERYTHING while this place was being blasted with Super Bedbug Killer Poison. And it worked. They continued to live and serve from that very place. The last set of missionaries living there were sisters. The long dark hall smelled like a toss up of lots of old fried food dinners. Tenants could be heard talking from behind closed doors. Bikes had been hauled in and out and up and down three flights of stairs on a daily basis. Wheel marks were still on sections of the wall. Pushpins were randomly vacuumed up on the old shag carpet. Pushpins are a must in missionary apartments. How else do you get those pictures from the Ensign and Home to stay on the wall?  It is not high-end living, but it is living for  the Lord's work.
     After we finished and piled all our cleaning supplies in the buckets and toted the vacuum cleaner down and out the stairs, there was a bag of some sort attached to the mission truck's front windshield. We got close. "Learn how to park".  What in the world? I studied my junior companion's parking. The front end of that Chevy Truck was almost even with the steps to get in the building. "Even" as in a tenant almost having to climb over the hood to get up the steps. The wheels were  perfectly placed right over the white line. Meaning the Lord's truck was basically taking up two parking spaces and the whole front sidewalk.  I took a picture of the sign and climbed in.
     Along our way home we dropped off mail that had been sitting in the office to missionaries that lived out that way. We always ask how the work is going and always, "it is Great!"  When we got in Independence, darkness had settled and the mission office was closed. Another day of doing the Lord's work down. I love it.

Happiest of Thanksgivings to my darlings! Don't we all live a blessed life?

Sister Seaman.....aka Grandma to Kortney, Ethan, Jett, Kenz, Mattie Claire, Chloe, Livi, Kyson, Brookie, Teag, Ellie, Macy, Noah, Ezra, Mikael, Elijah, Zane, Max, Cash, Sailor, and Avy

Life is in the Details

     It was the middle of the day.  Nobody needed a parking space.  We were the only ones there.  Some smart-relic decided I was politically incorrect.  Probably some left-wing commie pinko who just loves Obama.  The note was written on a booze-bottle bag for heavens sake.  I am not letting it bother me.  It is the Lord's work after all.
     My brother, Les, and his wife, Linda, were here last weekend.  It was a whirlwind tour of as many sacred sites as we could get in.  It was great.  I love the sacred sites of Missouri.  It was good to see them again and the sites.  We did get to see BYU get beat.  Although I would have liked them to beat Mizzou. 
     Now down to business.  Last week in church Sister Seaman and I sat down behind an empty part of the pew in front of us.  Way to our left and on that row, sat 3 older single sisters.  I shouldn't say single, but they were there alone, as always, and take comfort in each other.  Just before the meeting started, a young family came in and sat down in front of us.  They seemed very nervous and uncomfortable.  They were dressed very poorly.  There was a very thin mother, 2 kids under the age of 6 and a father.  Their clothes were wrinkled and a little dirty.  They had a peculiar smell about them.  It was like tobacco smoke, unwashed clothes and bodies and old kitchen odors all wrapped in one.  Did I say they were nervous. 
     As we started to sing the opening song,  one of the sisters down the row, Sister Fox (her husband is either a non-member or inactive), got up and walked down the row and sat next to the young mother.  She proceeded to give the young woman a great big hug and started to speak to her very softly in her ear.  I could literally feel the tension start to dissipate.  Sister Fox sat next to her the entire meeting.  It was one of the kindest things I have seen for a while.
     I have thought about that simple act of kindness all week. I have decided that salvation is in the details ( I think a general authority said that in the last conference.)  Salvation is in the small acts of kindness and compassion that we are inspired to do all the time, if we want to hear them.  It is in doing good.  It is in the smile and the handshake.  It is being patient with people on the freeways of Missouri.  It is a kind word. It is praise for someone in need.  It is in the tease to get someone to smile or laugh.  It is bearing each others burdens.  It is being a friend.  It does not get any better than this.  To my family, I say start now, make it a habit.  Think about it.  You can not go wrong.  Your own troubles will be smaller or non-existent.  You will feel good.  I know it.  I love you all and I know that you are already this kind of person.  Stay the course.

Sincerely,
Elder Seaman