Week 69, in which I'm wading through the Book of Job, but other than that having a great time!

I can't believe I'm almost to week 70! Where has the time gone? I'm loving ----, Sister M, our investigators, and our weird, random, creepy, old men that we meet. Seriously. This is one of the major trials we've had this week, the only people who want to talk to us on the streets are the old dudes with crackly voices and relatively good English. We met J this week, completely by accident, and he gave us his number and told him to call us for English class. So I called him and here is the conversation we had:

Me: Hi J, how are you today?

J: I just got off work, have you eaten dinner?

Me: Yes, we have. How was work?

J: It was good. Do you want to go to eat dim sum?

Me: No, we've eaten. What job do you do?

J: I drive a motorcycle. Do you know how to drive a motorcycle?

Me: No. We have English class tonight if you want to come, it starts in--

J: I can teach you to drive a motorcycle. Let us go ride a motorcycle.

Me: No, missionaries don't ride motorcycles, especially with strangers. Anyways, hope to see you at English class ton--

J: How about on Saturday? We can go ride motor--

Me: No, I won't be doing that, thank you. Have a great evening!

J: Okay, next time we'll go eat dim sum thanks bye!

Me: No---

*click*

Yeah, just my luck haha. But we've met some really great people this week, including a sister named S, a referral from a friend back home! She is so prepared, it really is a miracle. We ate lunch together and then showed her around our chapel. She has been looking for guidance and direction in her life, and wants to know if this can help her. She said she'll read the pamphlets and the mormon.org website and call us soon. It really was a special meeting. I'd been kind of nervous about it all week, and I'd prayed hard that I would know what to say and how to help her. And then afterwards I realized that it didn't matter that I don't really know what to do or how to help people, because this work isn't about me. It never is. It's Christ's work, and he knows exactly how to help her. I'm so grateful that he trusts me, despite my imperfections and weaknesses, to take care of some of the precious people here in Hong Kong. It is a privilege.

T-shirt of the week: "Spooky. Stretching it a bit. Foo." It had a kitten on it.

I've learned more about following the Spirit this week, although I haven't quite come to a conclusion of what I've learned yet. We were getting on the light-rail the other day when I saw a lady looking at us. I felt like maybe I should talk to her, but the car was so crowded and there was literally no way that I'd get over to her before our stop came. So I just got off and we switched trains, and I saw her again! Still pretty far away though. So I prayed and told Heavenly Father that if she gets off with us again, I'll talk to her. And then she did. I walked up behind her, having no idea what to say, and so I just opened my mouth and said, "Hi, I'm Sister Cutler, and I really want to help you--" and then she said, "NO NEED!" and booked it away. I was kind of taken aback for a second. All these doubts came, and I thought maybe I was just wrong. But then Sister M told me, "I felt like we should talk to her too." So I have no idea what that was all about, but for some reason or another it needed to happen.

In other news, I was dumb this week and cut my finger pretty badly on a seemingly harmless butter knife. Don't ask. Anyways, I've been sporting a pretty sweet band-aid which has been more than averagely annoying. It got me thinking about that scripture in Isaiah 49 where Jesus Christ says, "For can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee on the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me." I've been noticing my cut all week, I just can't forget about it. And in the same way, Jesus Christ always remembers us. (Well, not exactly the same way, he doesn't feel irritated every time he remembers us, the way I am with my cut, but it's just an analogy.) He really doesn't ever forget us. 

I've thought a lot about this verse this week as we go up into the small villages in the mountains to go finding. These villages are incredible, I don't know how they survive typhoon season. The little squatter huts are perched so precariously one on another that I feel like if I kicked out one loose board, the entire neighborhood would collapse. The huts range from reasonably sturdy to held-up-by-sheer-will-power. And sometimes it's almost impossible to even find a door, because you have all these random gutters and alleyways and secret stairways. These people out here really are forgotten in a lot of ways by the world. But not by the Savior. He loves each one of them, and their trials and sadness and joy and successes are continually before him. I love him for that.

Well, Sister M and I are off to get hair cuts! I'm a little nervous. We've heard several horror stories about various hair-cutting experiences that went awry. But I've been praying for protection, so I think we'll be okay. And something I've learned on my mission: time and the Atonement are great healers. If you take Jesus Christ's sacrifice and apply it to your life, then just add faith, anything will be fixed: broken hearts, lives scarred by sin, even cut fingers and bad haircuts. And that's why I'm here, because I've felt that healing power and want others