Peter's first letter

I have tried to set up a separate blog for Peter on missionsite.net.  However, that site is having issues, so I will post his letter on my own blog for now, and then repost when I have his own all set up.  You can email Peter at Peter.Abernathy@myldsmail.net  He would love to hear from you.  If you would like his snail mail address in the missionary training center, let me know.  He will be in the Sao Paulo training center until Dec. 17.  We are delighted to read this wonderful letter of good news:

Bom tarde!
 
Today is D+9 and it feels like I've been here for six weeks already.  To say that a lot has gone down would be the grossest kind of understatement.  Firstoff, I have been hugely blessed with all of the people with whom I am stuck in a tiny classroom for hours upon hours a day.  My district is fantastic, everyone is hardworking, especially my companion.  I got called as District Leader last sunday, and I've already seen and been thankful for how well I've been prepared to lead meetings.  I especially have Bishop Brandenburg to thank for that.  We have six elders and a threesome of sisters.  All of them are very obedient and generally great to be around.
 
Today was our first P-day since we've been here, so we got to go to the Sao Paulo Temple, which was, of course, a wonderful experience.  We got to go around the city a bit (and our neighborhood seriously does look exactly like Call of Duty. I still can't get over that) and shop around a little.  I bought myself a couple of ties and a Brazil Futbol jersey....don't read to much into it, it was a one time thing.  Now (1548) we're in the email room and soon we're going to change into our futbol jerseys and take a bunch of photos together.  I wrote a handful of letters which I won't be able to send until next P-day, since today is Brasil's independence day and pretty much everything was closed.  It kind of cracked us up how few Brasilheros knew what the holiday was for.  I think they went one for nine or something like that.  We're just glad that the Temple was still open.
 
Our class time is very productive, and we're learning the language well.  Learning Spanish in high school has been an enormous blessing.  Everything is very similar and I've been able to teach lessons in Portuguese without a whole lot of trouble.  They started us teaching "Pesquesadores" in Portuguese on day three.  I've been speaking a linguistic hot mess that I refer to as "Spangliguese," which is Spanish, English, and Portuguese all rolled into one.  Most of the people can understand me on occassion, if I think about what I want to say before I try to say it.  The instructor we have every night is this awesome guy named Irmao Avino.  He's jacked and all of the Sisters have a crush on him.  He speaks very slowly and has a hilarious sense of humor.  Hearing a portuguese speaker say "dang it," "oh my gosh," and "I am an American" is pretty hilarious.  Irmao's challenge phrase is "Trick or treat" which is especially hilarious since words never end with "t" in portuguese.
 
We're eating really well.  I never knew pannini for breakfast was a thing, but I'm not complaining.  I'm drinking enough Guarana to....I don't know do something that would require a lot of fluid.  All of the Elders in my district are super well toned jocks, so daily actividade fisica can be a little humbling, but I hold my own reasonably well.  I get my revenge by being the most difficult investigator ever in teaching role plays.  Here is an excerpt from one of the tirades I've subjected my companion to.  Google translate is your friend:  "Como pode seu igreja e este evangelho me ajuda com problemas?  Pode me ajuda com taxas?  Este e somente palavras!"  He had a very scared look on his face while all of the instructors cracked up.  It was sweet.
 
Almost all of the elders in my district are serving in Fortaleza.  I am going to be very lonely in Londrina.  Todo bem.
 
Honestly the most difficult thing about life here in the CTM is knowing that I'm going to have to say goodbye to all of the great people in my district.  I love them all, and I do not dig the idea of not seeing them daily anymore.  Oh well, the Lord knows better than I do.
 
One of my responsibilities as a DL is to check my district mailbox every day.  The first day I open it up, two letters are waiting there.  They're both for me, from none else than our own Shane Hart.  He wins the award for being my first mission letter.  I miss Ben.  Seriously I miss that little guy.  He's going to be so big when I get home, or at least bigger. 
 
Dad was right.  Everybody loves us down here.  There are always big knots of white shirt-clad elders prowling around the streets surrounding the CTM, and cars always slow down, honk, and give us the thumbs up.  They recognize the Father's messengers, it seems.
 
Take care of yourselves.  Eu amo voces, especiamente menho parentes.......e Ben.
 
I love all of you!
 
Elder Abernathy
 
P.S.  I finally understand Alan Richardson's license plate.  Nosso legal! 

The End of a Chapter

              Midnight tonight marks the end of a chapter for me.  It’s not the end of the book, but it is the end of an important chapter.  At the stroke of midnight tonight, in the eyes of the law, there will be no more children in the Abernathy household.  The book will never close for me as I continue as a mother of adult children, a grandmother, great-grandmother, and so on forever.  Still, though, today is a time of reflection for me on what it has meant to be a mother of young children.

                First of all, if I could make my life’s choices again, I would make the same ones all over.  I have no regrets and consider it a blessing that I was able to bear five children in my youth.  I knew at the time that I was taking a different path than many of my friends, and while I have admired their accomplishments, I am delighted with my own.  A few years ago, I attended an event in my home town, and four of my five children were with me.  They were mostly grown and were polished and dressed in their Sunday best when I met a childhood friend who had never seen all of my kids together in the same place.  Her comment startled me a bit, when she said, “Wow, so this is what you have done all these years.”  It then occurred to me that it was indeed what I had done for nearly thirty years, and I was very happy to show the evidence of my work.  I think I may have realized for the first time that motherhood had truly shaped the person I had become.

                While it’s true that it was rarely easy to be the mother of five children, it’s also true that is has been wonderful.  Motherhood has shaped my happiness and taught me character traits that I don’t know how I could have learned elsewhere.  I learned that other lives quite literally depended on me.  I had to stay on my back for many weeks of a pregnancy to save the life of a tiny daughter.  I arose exhausted several times each night for many years to feed a hungry baby or to comfort a frightened or a sick child.  Every mother since Eve has done this, so I take no credit at being anyone special, but the seriousness of this dependence has taught me that my needs can’t come first.  Learning to sacrifice for the well being, and indeed, the life of another, has gone a long way towards polishing away the selfish rough edges of my soul. 

                Motherhood has also taught me to trust.  While I might have liked to take over their lives and make their decisions for them, I have learned to trust my children and to allow them to make as many of their own choices as they were prepared to make.  We worked daily to teach each of them correct principles and reliance on God.  Then we held our breath and watched them fly away.  At first, it was as simple as taking a deep breath if a child chose clothing that wasn’t exactly to my liking or exhibited personality traits that were different from my own.  As the years passed, each of our children surpassed us in strength, skill, and ability to manage the challenges of an ever darkening world.  None of us, parents or children,  would have been happy to stay together in the overcrowded nest forever.  Although frightening at times, it has been magnificent to watch them soar and to build their own nests.

                Having the babies and caring for them full time has also taught me tremendous gratitude for my dear husband.  In my younger years, I was sometimes frustrated at the difference in our job descriptions as mother and father.  In my immature eyes, the daddy flew away each morning to develop an exciting career while the mommy bird sat on the nest and dealt with the squawking until way past sunset, when the daddy bird returned to the nest after the little noisy fledglings had finally eaten their fill of worms.  His life seemed grand, and mine, well, not so grand.  It’s in these later years where I have come to appreciate the gift I had of being free to tend the children without the worry of providing financial support.  I was there to see every little step, bind every boo-boo, large or small, fill a shopping cart to overflowing with groceries and sneakers and sweatshirts, and attend every school function without having to ask for time off from work.  I was doing my work, and Daddy’s dedication to the family allowed me to do it.  I might add that he also supported me in earning a graduate degree and maintaining a busy music studio while caring for our little ones.  

                Finally, thirty-plus years of full time motherhood has shaped me into the person that I have always wanted to become.  While it’s true that I would have liked to stay the slim twenty something I once was, what I really wanted was to become more tender, more aware of the needs of others, softer, and best of all, beloved by those closest to me.  Mothering of children has not been merely a job.  It has been a calling and a way of life.  For me, it has been a happier life than I ever could have imagined.  While I know that the day will never come that I will surrender my motherhood badge, my days will shift to a different rhythm.  I will experience more time away from the nest to spread my wings and to pursue new flights.  Some choices were put on a shelf for a few decades, but to my delight, when I dust off my former roles, they are somehow brighter for the waiting.  What a wonderful surprise.  When my children bring their little ones back to visit their grandmother, they find her happier, wiser, and more beloved than she ever could have been without those lessons learned as a mother of five great kids.

Not All Shows Must Go On

This is old news, but there is a hit Broadway musical, “Book of Mormon” that has received a lot of attention and awards.  I have taken little notice of it.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has made little public comment other than to invite people to read the actual Book of Mormon and to visit our church meetings to judge for themselves as to whether the real church is anything like the pretend church that is receiving so much mockery in the musical.  After writing this, I will go back to my usual state of ignoring the show, but today I feel the need to write some of my thoughts.

I am sickened with the thought that anyone would produce a show that openly mocks the religious faith of any person or group.  I realize that free speech is a right, and artists may comment as they wish.  Similarly, patrons may freely choose which events to support with ticket purchases.  Some decide to attend.  Others, like me, shrink from the thought.  What I ponder with this writing is why folks would make the choice to purchase the tickets and attend this wildly popular and egregiously offensive production.  I have a few theories.

First, there is the allure of a new and popular show.  Something different, something that has won awards and accolades in the industry has its appeal to theatre goers.  My professional life has been among the arts community, and I enjoy new productions, too.  However, even if my personal faith were not the target, I would stay away from this one.  The language in many of the songs and dialogues is too foul to print.  I have no taste for that.  Of even greater significance is the desire to stay away from any visual or performing art form that has as its main purpose the ridicule of a particular faith or of religion in general.  The idea of eliciting laughter and immense revenue at the expense of another’s beliefs is abhorrent.  So, the artsy crowd flocks to check out the new show.   I get it.  Count me out.

Another reason why theatre goers may patronize this production could be curiosity of a religion that until recently, was lesser known in the mainstream of American churches.  Most people probably knew a member of the LDS church, but suddenly, the faith became in the media spotlight when a church member became a presidential candidate from a major political party.  There are lots of myths floating about concerning the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Maybe some attended to see just what Mormons are about.  There are many more accurate ways to satisfy that curiosity.  There are millions of church members worldwide who are happy to answer questions and to talk about their beliefs.  Over 60,000 missionaries volunteer around the world for two year full time missions.  The church is also very open and accessible to visitors, both in our chapels and numerous visitors’ centers and in free printed materials and websites.   Trusting the entertainment industry to accurately portray a serious subject is pretty unreliable.   Curious theatre goers would receive a much more correct and fair representation of the church and its beliefs by consulting a member, visiting a service, visiting lds.org, or by actually reading The Book of Mormon.

Novelty, curiosity about a religion, and even pity or scorn for the perceived misguidance of LDS members is not really what bothers me.  These are annoyances, but they have not caused me to shed tears.  What has truly troubled me and brought this to a personal level is the worry that I have might not have taken the opportunity to express to those around me that The Book of Mormon is a sacred book of scripture that is central to my faith. It is the keystone of our religion.  It is the word of God and a second witness, along with the Bible, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the Savior of the world.  I have read The Book of Mormon more than twenty times from cover to cover.  I have studied it and prayed over it and received a sure witness that allows me to confidently say that I know that it is truly the word of God.  No one has to take my word for its truthfulness.  Anyone who reads it with a sincere heart may pray to know for himself if it is truly scripture.  Millions have done this and testify just like me. 

So, for whatever the reason, do I feel a sting of pain when my friends and colleagues buy their tickets?  You bet I do.  Let’s go to the Kennedy Center together and see something that will uplift both of us.