Illumine

I can always fall back to pictures when I can't come up with a thousand words. Doing that probably makes it easier on you, too. But, I can add a couple of stories from the last few days, maybe.

We had occasion to visit the old town with some visitors one evening. The rainy day mixed with the early darkness revealed a pleasing ambiance on the old streets.

But the real interest is in the people, mostly the people we interact with. The problem with writing about our experiences with people is that they might not want their story shared. Or the story might be completely different from their angle.

...

Our mission president and his wife are adept, as mission leaders must be, at motivating missionaries. I'm fascinated every zone conference that they come up with new ways to share the gospel while eliminating the repetitiveness that can lead to drudgery. As invariably occurs, we finished our conference this week with revitalized confidence and hope.

We left our elders in Warsaw and we made our 4-hour drive home alone. Being late, we stopped at a roadside hotel/restaurant with an "authentic Polish kitchen." The place was empty, but a bell on the desk got a gal to come from the back room. Sister Bridge used her well-practiced phrase to say "Hello ma'am, do you speak Polish?"

This got a quizzical response, so I quickly corrected it to "speak English" She replied in Polish, "No."

I'm proud (note foreshadowing here) that we made her understand that we did not want a room, only food, we got a table and our dinner ordered, ate and paid for it with not one word of English between her and us. (pride)

We went next door to the gas station to fill up and the guy couldn't understand the pump number I told him. (fall)

The sturdiness of the stairs leading to the apartment we visited made me think of a wet paper plate and I mused how I would explain it when I broke through them. They held out, miraculously. Being the last of us to squeeze through the door of his unlit space, I walked right into our frail host as he held out his hand to greet me. Oh! Hi!

The elders were sharing a spiritual message and after half an hour of earnest attention, grasping an occasional word for some kind of context, I found myself searching in vain for two identical bricks in his kitchen wall. Then marveling that it still stood and also supported those stairs.

He's seen this same wall lighten and darken every day since he left the army, these 39 years.

There are people who stand independent, whose countenance somehow brightens the dark spaces. They reflect light for the rest of us to receive. They don't seem to mind being that kind of different.

There's another story there, but maybe later.

365

It's still uncertain why it was that when we entered the MTC the Monday after October conference last year, full of excitement to be returning to our previous mission land of Finland, things out of our control were going to change our course. After the passage of that much time, there are a few things we do know better, however.

We know we don't know everything. We trust there is One who does. We know that if we do our best to do good, there are multitudinous ways for us to do so. We know that our mutual Father loves His children everywhere. We know that what gives the most meaning to our lives is less about the location, the culture, the climate, and more about the individual people we get to interact with.

It's strange that because our recent reconnecting in-person with our children, family, and friends was known to be short, the connection was more strong. Certainly more intentional.

Correspondingly, for several years I was intensely involved in the logistics of the spoken words at general conference. Days before the conference began I had read and re-read all the talks, some several times. And I often had profound personal impressions from that privilege. Being now removed from that daily connection to the words that are intended to inspire, the 35 messages coming all at once felt like a flood. They also became very cherished.

To you it might have become a worn-out, over-trode theme, Jean and I constantly sharing bridges in pictures. They're intended to remind us that bridges don't exist except to connect and to overcome some obstacle.

We feel your love.

An impressive public works project

Unimpressive bridges also serve their purpose

Serene country setting we happened upon