Brian: Nile River Conversion Story

After receiving my call to serve in Russia I was told all sorts of things to prepare for, watch out for, beware of...etc. People told me that it was a hard mission, that I probably wouldn't baptize anybody, and that in general the people, climate, and government were cold and tough. I was stubborn and chose not to believe them. I thought, what do they know? Many of them hadn't been there and were just passing on hearsay

About a year and three months into my mission I began to develop my own opinion about the Russian people. I  recognized that their past was filled with tragedy and heartache. Leaders such as Stalin, Lenin, and many if not all the tsars abused their power and caused the people to suffer. The people lived in fear and lost the ability to trust, especially strangers from the distant land of America. I tried not to judge them, but tried to understand them. I still do not understand much, but I do know that God loves them. 

In my mission it was difficult to believe that cold invites such as gospel pamphlets would bring any success. In fact, I think I passed out thousands of invites on my mission and never had a single person call me back...that is until Ludmila. 

So there I was riding along on a bus with my great friend and companion Elder Okabe when I got a call from an unknown number on my cell phone. I answered and a woman on the other end began asking me really strange questions. Initially I was a little confused due to my somewhat limited gospel vocabulary. However, eventually I figured out that she wanted to know what my connection was to the Nile River. I told her that I had no connections to the Nile River and asked how she got my number. She explained that she had an invitation and that on the back a Staraishina ("Elder" in Russian) Nile and Staraishina Kitchen had left their number. I then realized that she was referring to an Elder Neil who had left the area a little before me and that Neil, translated into Russian, is Nile. I explained to the lady what I had realized but she still insisted that we meet with her. I got her name and we set up an appointment. After I got off the phone I told Elder Okabe what had happened and we both had a good laugh. However, we were just glad to have another lesson to fill our schedule. 

When we met with Ludmila she told us a sad story about how she and her husband were separated. He had left many years earlier as a soldier and was lost in a military operation near the Nile river. She said that when she read our invitation the word Nile stood out to her and that she knew calling this number would help her find some answers. She ended up finding answers all right, but not the type she had anticipated. During later lessons we taught Ludmila the plan of salvation. She really connected with the message. She told us that since she was a little girls he never felt like she was really at home - that she was really just here for a time until she returned back to her heavenly home. Learning about the plan of salvation taught her how this was possible. Miraculously, the misunderstand about the Nile river lead to Ludmila being baptized. She had one of the most beautiful baptisms. Few people were present, but the spirit was there and we all felt it. 

Brian: Morning's Light

Today:

There is something amazing about sunlight, especially as it marks the end or the beginning of a new day. I love sunsets. I love sun rises. I love the colors. I love the peace they bring. I love how the light looks on the plants, trees, houses and people. The shadows are long and dark; they contrast greatly with everything the light touches. It is beautiful to see these stark contrasts. They make the world seem more vibrant. The scene reminds me of God's majesty and love.

On my mission:

I remember rolling out of bed and realizing that I was all alone. This was something strange and foreign to me, considering that all missionaries have to be within sight and sound of their companion at all times. My companion had left early that morning to catch a bus out of country. He was headed to the city of Narva in Estonia to renew his visa. We had received special permission for him to travel alone, upon the condition that I would immediately report to my district leader's apartment after waking up. I got dressed and in the early morning darkness. I found my way on and off a few buses, onto the metro, and to the front door my my district leader's apartment. I was exhausted, not only physically, but my spirits were down. My companion was depressed, we rarely left the apartment to do missionary work, and I didn't know what to do. I needed to somehow be revitalized. The weak prior, Elder Kitchen, my district leader had given me his extra key to his apartment so I could enter without waking anyone. I quietly came in, found the couch in the far room, and collapsed onto its soft cushions. Sleep enveloped me. 

I suddenly awoke to the excited voice and shaking of Elder Williams. He said, "Pearce, you got to see this". I thought, right now nothing could be more interesting than the insides of my eyelids, but I got up, and I am glad I did. We quickly went down to the kitchen on the other end off the small apartment and out to the balcony and looked at the sky. I had never seen anything quite like it. That morning, in the dark dirty city God had lite up his morning sky with the most breath taking sight. I ran and grabbed my camera. The whole sky was filled with clouds painted purple and pink. Inside I felt something warm. I felt luck that I could see this simple and beautiful part of God's handy work. 

I know this is a simple story and to other it may seem meaningless, but to me it was a tender mercy. I felt that God blesses all of his children. He wants them to see beauty, feel love, and to come back to him. 

I know that God lives and loves us. This world is a cacophony of bitter and sweet, light and dark, good and evil. It is our job to recognize the good, learn to resist the evil, and thereby return to our Heavenly Father. 

Brian: To listen or Not to listen? That is the Question.

So there I was in Russia, bursting at the seems with excitement to be in the frozen north, during one of the coldest recorded winters of the last two decades. The month prior my mission president had sent me to serve in the farthest most town in the St. Petersburg Mission. Petrozovodsk or Petro, as everyone called it, had adventure in the air. Adventure was what kept me alive. It is what pulled me out of bed every morning and onto my knees. This particular day was especially exciting because I was about to receive a new companion, Elder Bradford. A companion is what LDS missionaries call the person they serve and preach the gospel with. I had planned a great day full of lots of meetings for my new and hopefully to be friend. I wanted him to have a great first day.

After picking up Elder Bradford in the morning from his long night ride on the Polar Express, we dropped off all of his stuff at the apartment. We then took off to teach families about Jesus Christ. Eventually our plans brought us to the outskirts of Petro. I need to inform you that in Russia 90% of all housing is made up of large run-down concrete boxes called domes. Somehow in this part of the city a small collection of much older and smaller traditional houses had survived. As Elder Bradford and I walked by these little farm houses on a iced over road, I had the distinct impression that we should not enter the house of our next appointment. I noted the thought and proceeded forward with courage and caution. When we got to our investigator's house we found a delightful dog locked up in a kennel. We reached our hands through the fence, pet him, and let him know we were friends. He happily and excitedly licked our hands, wagged his tail, and made us feel welcome (every good mission story involves a dog of some sort).

We stood and knocked on the door. Just when we were about to leave, the door swung wide open. Before us stood our investigator, completely intoxicated. We told him that we would come back a different day. He insisted that we come inside, but remembering my impression I resisted. He pushed the invitation again, insisting that we needed to get out of the cold. He asked for us to just come into the porch like entry way so we could talk to him some more.

I rationalized that this little entry way, between the outside door and the door to the rest of the house, wasn't a danger zone. We entered. Once inside, we talked with our investigator about the Book of Mormon. He told us that he had been reading and that he had something special to show us. He asked us to come inside further so that we could see it. At this point I thought maybe my impression from earlier was bogus and that going inside would help to further our work with this individual.

We walked through a relatively large dinning/kitchen area and into a back room with a shelf full of books. I stood close to the investigator and poor Elder Bradford stood in the doorway. As the investigator was in the middle of showing me a few of his icons, all of a sudden something grabbed my companion from behind, ripped him from the doorway, and was spinning him about in the other room. What my companion and I had failed to pay much attention to on our way in was a man passed out drunk, sitting in the corner. For some reasons something had snapped within the man and he wanted me and my companion out of the house.

Once I had realized what was happening I rushed to my companions aid and our investigator did the same. I managed somehow to free Elder Bradford form the clutches of this mad man and told Elder Bradford to run. I was hot on his tail when I felt the drunk man grab the top-back loop on my backpack. I lurched to a halt, and spun to ask him what he wanted. In a raging voice he slurred, "get out of my house". I shouted back that I would if he would let me go. Just then, a fist came flying at my head. Somehow things turned into slow motion and I did a back bend and dodged the guy's punch. I think alcohol had slowed his reflexes and motion in general so his punch was easy to anticipate. Thrown off balance by his blow, I freed myself and ran for the door. The man came stumbling after. I heard him coming and waited behind the outside door. As he came running through I slammed the door on his body hard. He fell to the cold ground and I pinned him there between the door and its frame. I yelled at my companion rushing towards the gate to hold it open for me.

Once opened, I let go of the door, freed the man and ran away. Looking back running down the ice-covered roads I saw the drunk man get up and try to sic the dog on us. I laughed thinking how friendly the dog had been to us on the way in.

Once we were a ways from the house I apologized to my companion. We both were a little shaken by the experience. I told him about the prompting and promised myself that I would do a better job of hearkening to them.

Years since I have pondered on the experience and realized that the adversary entices us slowly. Like the first drunk man, he invites us into the antechambers of his house. Then, once we feel safe, he invites us in further. He plays off our desires for success and faith in our own strength.