Elder Caleb d'Evegnée

After yet another Uber/InDriver car ride to an almost fashionably late appointment, we went across the highway and over a tall hill overlooking the great expanse of Hermosillo. I couldn't see the whole city but it was enough for me to finally see a beautiful blend of green hills and the familiar casitas. It was the first time I could finally see the city as a beautiful image rather than simply my mission stomping grounds.   My companion reassured me many times this week that this was one of the hardest weeks of all his mission. There were many problems with some of our friends involving their interesting wizard neighbors, getting evicted, loss of hope and faith, etc. It didn’t help that we got sick from the heat too.   Yesterday, we visited an inactive mother whose boyfriend has some interest in the gospel. We had been with this family before on my 3rd day here in México. That day my panicked gringo expressions made them laugh as i sulked in confusion. I wasn’t able ...

This week has been one the most spiritual of my mission so far. I haven’t had many weeks but you gotta start somewhere. I’m not usually one who talks about miracles or who has a "God-made-my-day-this-way" kind of attitude. However, “grace was as my day” this week.  The special family we've been teaching received a miracle after a particularly devastating week. My companion and I got ready to teach them with high expectations of laughter and spiritual experiences. But when we arrived, the father only greeted us with a quiet "Que dice?" compared to his usual bright smile. The father was prevented from getting a job because of some issues with paperwork and returned to some bad habits in his frustration. We tried to teach a bit about how we can never be separated from God's love, but it was a sad attempt to stir up hope. We received a message later that the father who had been progressing so much since my second day here no longer wanted us to come.  Gratefully...

Bonjour Tout le Monde! Unlike my last email, the heat of Hermosillo has become less of a joke and more of slow 350 degree bake until ready to serve. We have had a lot of statistical success with our growing number of progressing friends (we call them “amigos"). For me personally, I’ve felt success in feeling charity for them. One person in particular, in his rather dramático fashion that reminded me of my days of Duo Interpretation in high school speech, told us how he knew that the golden plates couldn’t have been given to "Luis Smith.” My companion tried to correct him with a gentle "José Smith,” to which he replied "Sí, Luis José Smith.”  The work is good with an accompanying spirit that guides a gringo's "Buenos Tardes" to strangers on the street. The family I talked about in my last email is doing well and the father has received an opportunity for a job. As he was walking in the street, a man gave him a simple orange. The father, despite his situ...