Prayer — and Salvation — don't come cheap

SAN DIEGO — Sister Miller is a hoot and a half. She is so great. We are definitely learning lots. I’m so glad she is patient with me. I’ve had my fair share of mess-ups as a trainer, but we just pick up the pieces, move on, and do it better the next time. I guess that’s good practice as a parent.

She makes me laugh all the time. I can’t remember all the funny things she’s done this week, but just the other day we were gassing up the car. It was on her side, so I had her do it. She got back in and we started driving up the freeway, all of the sudden I hear, "clunk, clunk, clunk." I look over at her and she has the biggest, widest eyes looking back at me. She forgot to put the gas cap back on!!!! Silly sister, I love her!

We are seeing a lot of success in the Helix Ward. I think I told you about adding some investigators (FINALLY) last week. Casey is one that we added. He has been taught many times before, but it just hasn’t clicked with him. We had a lesson with him at the church this week. We were able to teach him the simple doctrine that God is literally his father and that He wants Casey to build a relationship with Him through prayer, reading the Book of Mormon and coming to church. The Spirit was so strong.

There are moments as a missionary when you know you have completely given in to the Spirit and what he wants. Unfortunately as humans, often, we only partially give in, but when we fully surrender to heaven, the miracles easily slide right down from the heavens, and that power is manifested clearly and profoundly. We had one of those moments sitting in the lobby of the church with Casey. We committed him to be baptized, and he said yes for September 8th. I know there is a lot going against him, but he can do this, so keep him in your prayers!!

Speaking of prayer, Sister Miller and I were able to go to the Young Single Adult conference on Sunday for church. It was such a great sacrament meeting. Elder Haney, and a member of one of the YSA wards spoke on prayer. They read out of the Bible Dictionary about prayer, and it really touched my heart.

"The object of prayer is not to change the will of God, but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant, but are conditional on our asking for them... We pray in Christ's name when our mind is the mind of Christ, and our wishes the wishes of Christ. We then ask for things it is possible to grant"

I have a huge testimony of prayer, but sometimes I think I have forgotten that I need to ask what is the right question to ask. I need to try to place myself in Christ’s shoes and make his will my will, and his wishes my wishes. I have a testimony that those kinds of prayers, sincere hard work, thought out prayers bring forth miracles. God does hear and answer us!

One last thing I want to tell you about before I go was about our goodbye party last night. Can you believe another transfer has ended? We all get together at the Battalion and the sisters leaving share their testimonies. Sisters Burden, Young, Nelson and Elder and Sister Stallings shared theirs. The Spirit was so strong, and I was so grateful to have served with these wonderful Disciples of Christ. Sister Young shared an experience she remembered with Elder Zwick, who said, 

"Don’t you dare be afraid of the hard things in life. Don’t take the road most traveled or the road of least resistance. There is more joy that comes from facing challenges and trials with faith."

I believe that with all my heart. Salvation is not a cheap experience. It wasn’t for Christ. Why would it be for us? Don’t be scared of the hard stuff! It will only make you stronger. 

I know Satan wants us to be afraid, but why should we be afraid? Christ has already paid the price. He has already helped us gain exaltation, we only need to live with faith, repent, keep our covenants, and endure to the end.

I guess my thought to you all today is to go forward with faith. Christ can heal you. He has healed me and continues to everyday.

"Newmans do hard things": An Open Letter to my Father

Dear Dad,

This week has been one of my top 10 hardest weeks of my mission so far. You have come to my mind a lot this week, and since this Sunday is Fathers Day, I decided I wanted to write specifically to you.

Transfers were this week. I got transferred after more than half my mission in Black Mountain to a family ward in El Cajon. The difference between the two is night and day. I now have my own bottle of pepper spray. Enough said. I think you probably have an idea of what its like there.

Sister Tanner is my new companion. She is 25, from Canada. She teaches 8th grade English and is a sweetheart. We are the training sisters at the Mormon Battalion.

Dad, I thought I knew what hard was. I had no idea. Sister Kennington and I have been together for five transfers. She is my best friend. I calculated it out, and if what they say about a mission as being a "mini life", Sister Kennington and I have been companions for 50 years. Imagine you and mom not being together anymore and I bet you can get a taste of how much that hurt.  It is so hard to love my new area, but Heavenly Father has a way of expanding my capacity to love far more that what I ever imagined. I have to say I was in complete shock when I heard Heavenly Father still needed me to be training sister.

I'm so tired Dad. So, so tired.

Do you remember when we went on Trek and we had the women's march? My family’s cart got taken and we had to spread out and help pull the other families' carts. I got assigned to one of the end ones that did not have the six to eight people pulling a cart, but we had four, if I recall. I remember looking at Corinne Christensen, who was in the family I was assigned to. Both of us were thinking the same thing, I am sure.

"How on earth will we ever be able to do this?"

We started pulling. I can remember the sweat dripping down my face, the blisters on my palms throbbing, my feet hurt so bad. I remember the poor sister next to me wanting to rest but we just couldn't. She let go, and the wagon started rolling down hill. Tears filled my eyes as the weight of the cart started pulling me down. I wanted to fall to my knees and give up, but I knew if we lost the momentum we would roll to the bottom and there would be no way we could get to the top of the hill. I said a prayer, begging Heavenly Father to help us, I looked up through my watery eyes and there was Brother Richardson, with tears in his, smiling at me and telling me I could do it.

I feel like I re-lived that experience in a way this week. The natural human part of me overtook my faith. All I could think about is how tired I am. Not just tired at the end of a long missionary work day. Thinking about what Heavenly Father was asking me to do, I felt like dropping to my knees and giving up. But he has sent angels to lift me up. It is amazing experiencing the power of Heaven.

I had this image pop in my head of how I have been feeling this week: Imagine one of the laborers in the vineyard. The master of the vineyard gives him a plot of land to cultivate. He digs and digs, sweats, worries and cries over these precious plants. At the end of the day, he straightens out his aching back, leans on his earth-filled shovel, wipes the sweat from his brow, and looks at the beautiful, lush vines growing on his plot. You can imagine his excitement to keep this precious earth that he has come to know and appreciate alive, but alas, the master of the vineyard has something else in store for him: a new plot of land, a new earth to learn, to cultivate, to revive.

Only to the laborers' dismay, this plot of land is scorched by wildfire, only few evidences of growth. This laborer — though tired, aching, and a little dismayed — starts the next day digging and cultivating, and though he's not sure what the master has in mind, knows that with the master's help, even the blackest of earth can be reclaimed and revived into a more lush and green garden that it was before.

To be honest, before I was able to fight the thoughts of doubt and inadequacy that Satan had put in my mind, and replace those with thoughts of hope and faith, I broke down. I cried through all my tours. It took all I had to pray to Heavenly Father to help me stop crying long enough to say my part of the tour. I hate that I am human.

Do you remember those times when I would be so upset because I hated how I Heavenly Father always "made me" do the hard things when it seemed everyone else got to have fun? I remember a handful of times when I would sit on your lap and cry. You would rock with me and remind me that "Newmans do hard things and Newmans do what Heavenly Father asks".

I hated when you said that.

I just wanted to yell, "Well then, I don't want to be a Newman!" But now I am grateful for it. I Know I am a Newman. I know I am a daughter of a King. And we do hard things.

I have the first letter that you wrote me when I got to the mission home. I keep it close when times are hard. I read this part the other night.

"Brittany, I know that oftentimes you have to dig down deep for the strength you need to do the things that you want to do, but just like a mine which has priceless treasures buried deep down, I am confident that you will be able to find those treasures within yourself and share them with other people"...

 I'm digging deep, Dad. Deeper than I ever have. I know you would be proud of me.

I didn't have you here when I was practically on the verge of despair. The Holy Ghost was yelling in my ear, "you need a blessing."

I called Elder Seegmiller, and just like I used to when I would call you up in college when things were hard, immediately I started crying when I heard his voice. He came over to the Battalion and gave me a blessing. I have a testimony of the power of the priesthood.  I could not do this without extra power from heaven. I would have given in. I would have given up.

I want to share one part of the blessing that stuck out to me. I was told that you pray for me every night. And that though you can’t be with me, your prayers reach the heavens and have acted as a fathers blessing to me. Dad, thank you. Thank you with all my heart. I am very aware that there is a power that is going against me. It is real. It is tangible at times. I know that yours and mom's prayers have saved my life.

I love you with all my heart. Happy Fathers Day.

Roller coasters and choices

SAN DIEGO — Since Cameron is going to be baptized this Saturday, he has been on my mind a lot. I wanted to share this week's experiences from my journal and share some thoughts about what happened.

May 18, 2012

Yesterday, Sister Burden and I were on exchanges. We taught Cameron about the priesthood right after he had his baptismal interview with Elder Smith. The Spirit testified with such a power that even I was taken aback. 

Later in the lesson, we asked Cameron what it meant to him that there is a prophet on the earth. He told us that after he watched the movie/biography of President Monson's life, "On the Lords Errand", he fell to his knees and asked God if President Monson was His prophet. He bore such a strong witness of the answer he received that tears came to my eyes. In that moment I realized that the angels were probably sitting in silence, hanging on every word as one of their fellow brothers bore truth of the prophet of God. We ended by watching a Mormon Message called, "Sanctify Yourselves" by Elder Holland. We all had tears in our eyes as we watched the power of the priesthood heal a little boy from being electrocuted in a rainstorm. Think of the power of that! There is no power to equal the priesthood in the whole world...

May 19, 2012

Cameron called and told us that he had finally talked to his parents and told them about his decision to be baptized. He was very sad, because his parents were not very happy. His parents mean the world to him, and for them to be upset and accuse him of making an irrational decision definitely stung deep. What he told us on the phone touched my heart. He said that he knew that at some point he would stand in front of Jesus Christ and it wouldn't matter that his parents were mad. It would matter if he chose to make and keep covenants with God. His simple yet firm testimony strengthened my testimony that I too know that my Redeemer lives!

May 21, 2012

.... On the way to Family Home Evening, we realized that were locked out of the church, so we called Brother Bryant and he let us use the restroom and even had leftover chicken pot pie for us on the table when we arrived (He is the one who referred Cameron)! He told us that last night Cameron came over and was very upset. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get baptized because his family is so upset by it. 

They were able to talk, and Brother Bryant asked if he would be okay if those that wanted to in the branch could fast with him tomorrow. After FHE Brother Bryant explained that Cameron was having a hard time and those that wanted to could join in a fast for him tomorrow. Josh asked if we could say a prayer for him. About 20 Young Single Adults knelt in prayer in our branch president’s front room and the sweetest, most earnest prayer was offered for a man that many of them have only known for a few weeks, yet sincerely call him friend. The love, the charity, the unity and faith of this moment was tangible, it was breathtaking. This is what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ...

I wanted to share a few moments this week to help you get a glimpse of what missionary life can be like. Full of ups and downs, disappointments, miracles, frustrations, and happiness. I believe that this roller coaster ride Heavenly Father has developed is the curriculum to build our faith.

I have been studying about faith this week and have learned so much. It was very apparent to me this week noticing my feelings and the feelings of my companion as we experienced ups and downs. I wondered to myself, why am I letting my faith parallel these experiences? Why isn’t my faith at a constant incline? It is amazing to me what faith is. Faith is a principle of power. 

"If ye will have faith in me ye will do whatsoever thing is expedient in me" Moroni 7:33.

I have experienced something on my mission and that is the power of prayer and the power of faith. It is by prayer, by our words that we call down the powers of heaven and it is by our faith that we receive it. 

I love what the Bible Dictionary says Faith will give us: 

1. The knowledge that our lives are acceptable to God. 

2. Blessings 

3. An assurance of our salvation

In there it also explains obstacles to our faith: 

1. Hard heart and blind eyes. 

2. Looking for approval from others and not seeking the honor of God. 

3. Doubt.

As I have been pondering, My mind was swept away into a daydream: I see myself standing in heaven with the angels showing me what my life will be like. Before I can start my journey on earth, they ask me one question. "Brittany, what will you choose?" I see my self standing up from my chair, and looking at the angel who asked me the question. I reply- "I choose FAITH!"

What will you choose?

God is the Gardener

SAN DIEGO — Another week has come and gone. It has finally gotten cooler, which helps remind me that time is passing. When the sun shines everyday of the year, sometime it feels as though I am repeating July 12 months straight!

This week has honestly been so hard. As a missionary, the work seems to be compared to a roller coaster ride. There are moments when we have so many people to teach, many progressing, we are finding, and teaching, and the work is moving forward. Then the adversary notices what is going on, and tries his best to derail us. You know the part in The Book of Mormon when the Lamanites are taught and thousands turn their hearts back to God and are baptized? At the same time, the Nephites harden their hearts past feeling that not even the Gospel can penetrate their hearts? I am beginning to believe that I am living the same story that was written in The Book of Mormon, though I am the missionary trying to teach the Nephites.

I have been truly humbled this week. I realize for the past 8 months of my mission, I have not fully allowed Heavenly Father shape me into who I need to be. I have squirmed, and protested, and fought back a little bit, when the times got tough, and I felt the heat of the refiner's fire. I was thinking about what Heavenly Father is trying to teach me, and what lessons I need to learn to be a better missionary, daughter, sister, and future wife and mother.

As I was sitting in Zone Leader Council this week, President Clayton answered my question by reading us a talk by Hugh. B. Brown.

-----

"You sometimes wonder whether the Lord really knows what He ought to do with you. You sometimes wonder if you know better than He does about what you ought to do and ought to become. I am wondering if I may tell you a story that I have told quite often in the Church.

It is a story that is older than you are. It’s a piece out of my own life, and I’ve told it in many stakes and missions. It has to do with an incident in my life when God showed me that he knew best.

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants.

I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying.

I was kind of simple minded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” 

You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” 

That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”

Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. 

This one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be.

He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” 

That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.

Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” 

We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul.

Every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” 

I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.

And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” 

The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:

“It may not be on the mountain height

Or over the stormy sea;

It may not be at the battle’s front

My Lord will have need of me;

But if, by a still, small voice he calls

To paths that I do not know,

I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:

I’ll go where you want me to go.”

(Hymns, no. 75.)

I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.

I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” 

Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.

--------

As that was read, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I have to let Heavenly Father prune me. I have no idea what is good for me, but HE does. We are so prideful in this world. ALL OF US! (yes, that means you, you who are shaking your head no after reading this statement, that means you too.)

We have to stop comparing, stop holding grudges, stop holding on to the "us" that WE want to be.

Believe me, you want to be who HEAVENLY FATHER wants you to be, not who YOU want to be. I am a living testimony of that.


I love you all. I never knew that I could be so happy. There is true happiness that comes from not only living the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but allowing it to become who you are.