Well, another week come and gone, and I'm still rejoicing in the fact that the weather is getting warmer and warmer. This week, I shed my big coat and went down to a smaller one. Spring in Sweden isn't quite like home where it meant you didn't need a coat anymore, but I'm happy that I can at least have a few less layers on every day.
This past week was super good; we were able to go on splits up to Sundsvall. Last time I was up there, we spent most of the day outside the actual city, so I was really happy this time to get to walk around the main square and see the area I've heard a few of my companions rant and rave about, along with some of the amazing dragon statues the city gets its nickname from. I got to work with Syster Banks, who just made it to Sweden a few weeks ago, and it was so much fun. I think the poor girl got a little lost in the language when we started teaching a lesson on the street to a guy who 5 minutes in started saying we were being repressed as women and the church is nothing more than a hierarchy, and we had given up some of the best years of our lives for nothing, but we also had a really good lesson later on with a super sweet girl who just moved here from Syria a few months ago.
Here in Uppsala, things continue as normal- meaning a lot of finding and setting up appointments. It's really been great in the last week to meet with a few new people. We've met with self-proclaimed 'healers' to Persians who speak no Swedish to Persians who speak really good English and Swedish (BTW, I'm totally addicted to the saffron rice and chicken Iranians make. Best. Stuff. Ever.). We met with our sweet investigator, Grisel, who has so much stacked against her right now, but who has the most sincere desire to find the peace she knows the gospel can bring her.
Something I've been hit with more than ever this past week is that the time we have out here as missionaries is so precious, and it really is so important we make the most of every last second. I remember my mission president talking at a zone conference about what it's like to go home- you go and meet with your stake president, talk a little about your mission, bear your testimony, and then he'll tell you it's time to take off your nametag. And whether you have a magnetic tag, or one on a clip, or a pocket-tag, as you pull it off, there'll be a loud click, and just like that, you won't be a missionary anymore. And as he said it, I could feel the terror and had the feeling that I would never take that tag off- like, sleep with it, tag it to my towel in the shower, and just never let it leave me sight. Now that that 'click' is just a little closer for me, a lot of the same feelings are coming back, but rather than just getting that feeling that I'm going to sleep with my tag on (which is still tempting sometimes), I feel so much of a push to share the amazing joy the gospel has brought me in my life. And I don't care how disinterested or rude people may be- the gospel is everything to me, and I am going to spend every last second I can as a full-time servant of the Lord letting everyone know exactly what it means and how important it is.
I love you all, and I hope you have a fantastic week!
Kramar och ta hand om er.