Week#6 Thanks giving

Sister Schlachter and I have had good cause to pause, to reflect and to give thanks for the circumstances of our lives and for the many privileged experiences we have had including this past week. In a previous post I outlined the security measures taken to protect the Prophet, his two counsellors, the Twelve Apostles and the Presiding Bishopric when they are on The Campus (Temple Square and the church buildings that surround it). These efforts extend to the young sister missionaries that come from all over the world to serve here. Most of them are 19-21 years of age.

When we first arrived, and ever since, I have made it a point to either spoke with or at least say hello or otherwise acknowledged a man, who is on the same corner as the entrance to the Church History Library where we are working. This corner can be very busy at certain times of the day as it the only way for pedestrians to get from the parking lot in the Conference Center to three of the four church office buildings. Our friend appears to be in his early 30's. He has an earnest look on his face, a full beard and shoulder-length hair and a slim build. He usually wears a non-descript T-shirt or a black hoody, knee-length baggy shorts and up until this week, he has been barefoot. He carries an open Bible in his hands and has a tightly rolled up sleeping bag with him at his feet. Sometimes he's there before 7AM when I go to the gym and if not, he's there usually by 8:30AM when Sister Schlachter and I meet him prior to entering the Church History Library. Depending on the day, I sometimes see him two to three times but he's always gone before 5PM when we go home. I introduced myself and asked him what his name is.  His name is Nathan and that is how I have addressed him ever since.

One of the first days I talked to him he was yelling at passersby and me that there will be no women in Heaven. When I asked him why he thought this, he quoted a portion of a scripture somewhere in the New Testament that I couldn't find later.  My heart aches for him as most people's response is as if he didn't exist as they pass by or waiting for the "walk" signal to cross the street. Understandably, he affirmed that being ignored really hurts. I can understand the reluctance of many to acknowledge him, he appears to be "other" and from all appearances an unstable/unpredictable other. He isn't asking for money and has refused my offers of snacks. When I asked him he told me his purpose is to share messages of joy and peace and so if he's silent when I arrive I ask him what message he has for me in this regard - sometimes his response is that he has to think about it still. The Church's security concern is the safety of the young sister missionaries that have to use that corner to get to their assignments - with the ongoing construction on that street, there isn't any alternate route and during non-peak hours they face him alone. 

One time Nathan and I talked briefly about love. He said that for him it is the need to seek reconciliation when someone has been offended. (Matthew 5:24).  His eyes lit up when I told him that I had nothing against him. I seem to have hit a trigger of some sort - he gathered his things up and immediately left his spot and as we were entering the Church History Library yelled back at me, "Are you sure? I really need to know." I yelled back that I was sure and off he went.  

Despite of the numerous times I have talked to him and greeted him - each time we meet he either acts as if he has never seen me before or is a bit embarrassed because he can't quite place me - perhaps he is face-blind. The weather was colder on Tuesday and I was happy to see that, while he still wore his signature shorts, he now also had socks and running shoes and a warm coat over this hoodie. Wednesday morning on my way to the gym he was in his usual spot but sitting on the ground instead of standing and he was surrounded by four very large burly men in suits who did not look very happy. He was uttering threats to them that he was going to haunt them for the rest of their lives. The five of them were still there on my way back from the gym an hour later. I caught Nathan's eye and wished him a good morning. Later that morning I looked out of one of the windows and they had moved 20 meters or so down the street and Nathan was sitting on a bench by a bus stop - still surrounded by the four large guys. He was gone by the time we left our work. 

What to my surprise, on Thursday morning on my way to the gym he was standing is his usual spot again. On Friday morning on my way back from the gym he was there again but with the four burly men in suits surrounding him. I said, to him, "Good morning Nathan! It looks like you've made some friends. You really need to find a different corner to stand on." I seem to have hit another button. He engaged telling me that he would gladly go to a different corner if it would make a difference. How could no one, including myself have not thought of this. He was gone when I went home for my on-line karate class an hour later. The four burly men were still there but they seemed a lot happier, so much so that a passerby asked them if they were a barbershop quartet. 

I hope to see Nathan on a different non-Campus corner this week or better yet, that he accepts the help he needs to get better.  I see him with my dad eyes, as if he were one of my sons or even myself - knowing that any of us may be only a few decisions from being on the street - our own decisions or those of others.  

The photo is of our Collections Zone led by a wonderful couple, the Yeamans that left their home in Idaho to serve here. On Friday afternoon our zone went to the Saratoga Springs Temple that was recently dedicated to perform vicarious saving ordinances on behalf of family members who have died to provide them with the opportunity, like us, to enjoy the full blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, if they so choose, including being sealed together as families for eternity. In President Nelson's conference address he invites us to, "think Celestial". If you are familiar with the New Testament the reference is to 1 Corinthians 15:40-42 which speaks of different degrees of glory to which we may attain after our death.  President Nelson, our 99-year-old prophet counselled us that, "the very things that will make your mortal life the best it can be are exactly the same things that will make your life throughout all eternity the best it can be!" The choices we make matter. I admit that not all of my food choices at the Chuk-A-Rama Buffet were good ones.

In our quorum meeting on Sunday at church we shared our experiences and views on what President Nelson termed as one of the "most absurd lies in the universe", namely, "eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die: and it shall be well with us." My experience is that, sooner or later we will hit the faith wall when we realize that even doing our best to always do good cannot save us from the pains and sorrows of this world - we need the Saviour's help that only He can provide and to fully put our trust in Him to be truly free.  Our zone members are old but still serviceable and happily serving. 

As I mentioned, on Friday morning I was able to participate in my virtual karate class again with Sensai Syvlain Aube who is based in Gatineau, Quebec. I started karate when I was in my mid-twenties but gave it up during what President Monson described as the "race of life" during which I had neither time nor money to continue. I picked it up again just a couple of months before I was released as Bishop of the Champlain Ward as part of my quest to find alternatives to anti-depressants in my mental health journey out of the diagnosis of clinical depression a couple of years earlier. Karate as taught by this incredible 5th degree "master in the making" and dear friend has since become a key tool for self-mastery of the connection between my mind and my body. My body and I are far physically beyond the age of being competitive with respect to actually sparring. What is possible and pragmatic on-line and what I enjoy most is the discomfort of the constant remaking of the neural connections required. I regularly practice the choreography of the 31 katas I know - mastering any them is quite a different matter.  In our class Sylvain gave me five specific things to improve in the kata I am presently focusing on, Unsu.  It is a lifetime of learning.  

This past week I also went to BJJ a couple of times. My mental health really needed it and I really enjoyed myself.  I started BJJ with Sylvain about a year after I started karate - I didn't think my body could take it but after many invitations from one of the blue belts and my first class in Gatineau, I was hooked. I didn't go last week because it just didn't fit into our schedule. This past week I stayed only for the first class each of the two nights. It follows a very common format with a very brief warm up, about 20 minutes of technique instruction and practicing the same with a partner and then "rolling" for the rest of the hour. At Thursday's class we looked at a couple of escapes from a basic arm bar that I had never seen before - ways that I think might actually work for me. The class after that one is for higher belts than me and they have been preparing for a competition - the energy was out of my league and risk tolerance. My face is still a bit green from that accidental elbow three weeks ago. Here's a short clip of 'no-gi" rolling in a class setting like what I have described - no one is there to intentionally hurt anyone else. The clip is a fellow that calls himself "Chewy" that I follow on social media for training tips. The gym I am going to in Salt Lake City alternates between "no-gi" and "gi" classes on a weekly basis. The first time I told Sister Schlachter that I was going to a no-gi class in Ottawa when gyms were starting to open again after Covid, she was horrified, something to the effect of, "You're going to roll around on the ground with a bunch of sweaty, naked guys and try to choke them and break their arms?"  Not quite as you can see.  Here's a gi-class clip. There are more things to grab with a gi (e.g., an altercation in a parking lot versus at the beach).  It's physical, literally in-your-face and requires a great deal of mutual trust and control. 

According to my Fitbit we walked over 14.5 km yesterday on our grocery run, first to check out a gluten-free bakery to see if they had fresh buns for our Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. En route we came across a farmers market. I really loved the creativeness of the booth in the photo below, "Old Coots Giving Advice: It's probably bad advice but it's free".  Much of the best advice I have received in my 63 years of life has been free. Stick with President Nelson - he knows the way.  

We seem to have unwittingly toured some of the bowels of Salt Lake City including a lot of unkempt abandoned buildings - I was happy when we finally arrived at WinCo - our primary food purchasing destination. Unfortunately they didn't have pumpkin pies and so we took another trek to Smiths on the hill near the Capitol building.  Of note the same company that earthquake proofed it are the ones working on the Salt Lake City Temple.

On the way back from Smiths's we picked, and picked up pears, from a tree on the boulevard - I had one yesterday that we picked last week.  It was delicious!  Before we left in the morning there was a "swap meet" in the parking lot in front of our apartment among the missionaries living in the downtown area - you bring what you no longer need for others to take if they need these items - our "takes" were half a can of flour (I made biscuits with it that night) and some Montreal steak seasoning which I dry rubbed on the steaks I fried for supper that night. 

We also supplemented our supply of dishes and cutlery in order to host Alex and Liz and Liz's mom for Canadian Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday.

Our Elija choir performed, "In a coming day", tonight as part of a devotional at the Church Office Building (COB).  The story behind the song is as follows:

On April 6, 1985, Elder Bruce R. McConkie bore this solemn testimony in the Saturday morning session of General Conference: "I am one of His witnesses, and In a Coming Day I shall feel the nail marks in His hands and in His feet and shall wet His feet with my tears. But I shall not know any better than I know now that He is God's Almighty Son, that He is our Savior and Redeemer, and that salvation comes in and through His atoning blood and in no other way."  Elder McConkie died 13 days later. The speakers at the devotional were Elder and Sister Taylor who taught us more about the Doctrine of Jesus Christ and shared some of their experiences in this regard.

Unbeknownst to me Sister Schlachter carried a 14 lb. frozen turkey and other fixings in her backback from the Smiths on the hill to our apartment on Wednesday night while I was at choir practice so it would thaw in time to be cooked for our Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. She's quite the pioneer! Its a 3.2 km trip there and back. Dinner with Alex, Liz, and Liz's mom Annie was wonderful! We had so much fun I forgot to get a picture of all of us but here are the flowers from Annie's garden that Liz arranged and left behind for us. She is a very kind multi-talented gal.

We are still waiting for our visas for Mexico.  The other couple we know that were waiting for visas for Mexico, the Berretts, got theirs on Tuesday - they were notified this afternoon that their flight leaves tomorrow at 7AM - less than 24 hours notice but they are elated.  

As I mentioned, Sister Schlachter and I are working in the Church History Library and are assigned with researching and creating a timeline of self-reliance service implementation in Mexico. In sifting through the minutes of meetings and other documents collected over the past 150 years with relevance to our task, my faith in the leadership of the global church to which we belong and of its divine direction has been even further strengthened. I feel so very blessed to have had this experience and to be even a small part of this great work to invite all to come unto Christ to find greater happiness in life.