Sheltons in the Sun

Sunday, January 25, 2015

#7 The Badge

A few years ago as I served as a Guest Service Missionary at Temple Square and the Conference Center, I noticed that my pink missionary badge let everyone know that I could direct patrons where to go or sit, I could answer their questions about the event or facility, and I could show them the way. It was a wonderful assignment for four years, and I loved the spirit of the work.

Now, I notice that our black missionary badges still give us the privilege to show others the way; but it seems to say much more to those who observe us. Wearing this black badge is a curious event for some, a prick of the conscience for others, and a moment of recognition for many. I’ve had some interesting connections in the past couple weeks.

My first encounter was at the mall. An 11-year old by came up to me and asked me if I was a Mormon. When I said “yes,” he asked what ward I was in. When I told him, he said he was in the same ward, but his family only comes every few weeks. He said his name was Andrew and I should watch for him. I have seen him once.

Next I was in Walmart, the lines were long, and I asked if I could pass through to get to the other side of the aisle. A man jokingly told me I could not butt in line, and I begged, so he let me pass through. Then, later I saw him in the parking lot. He came up and asked if I am a Mormon. “Yes.”

“So am I he said,” then sadly he said “but I’m not exactly active.”

“Why Not?”

“Well, my life’s been kinda hard.”

“That’s when we need the Lord the most.” I replied.

“I know,” he said sheepishly, “I gotta go.” And away he went.

After a couple other unusual experiences, Friday night at dinner a cute waitress (in her late 50’s) asked what ward we are in. I asked her what ward she is in. She said she didn’t’ know because she hasn’t been to church for years. I offered to pick her up …She says she works on Sundays. I offered for us to teach her…. She said she didn’t think so. We laughed a lot and made friends, but no teaching appointment. We hope to see her again.

My heart aches when I see how many once active members have lost their way and cannot, or will not, get themselves to find the peace the gospel can bring. The badge brings glimpses of a person’s experience, and our prayer is to get to help those members remember why they joined the church in the beginning.

When we visited Mike’s kids last weekend, 3-year old Ethan wore Mike’s badge the whole time. Sunday the primary president had him lead I Hope They Call Me on a Mission. After church, as we were leaving for Bakersfield, Ethan said, “Grandpa, I’ve got to have my missionary badge, please don’t take it!”

Another things I was reminded of this last month is that I must listen to those promptings that make life easier. For three years, as I contemplated a mission, I considered things I must do to prepare. Often I thought I should practice the piano (I hadn’t played since high school) in case there was no pianist. I was secretly relieved when we arrived and learned that the office secretary is a concert pianist. Well, two weeks ago President Wilson asked me if I play the piano. Of course I said, “Not, well.” He said that there were no pianists in two of the zone conferences and would I play the opening and closing songs -- and that “not well” was better than nothing. So, I reluctantly played. Unfortunately, with the piano, every mistake can be heard.

Also, this last year, in the 1^st ward, I had the opportunity to write the Relief Society News letter (thanks, Cathy Glade.) All year I kept thinking that I should take the time to learn a computer program that would contain the letter so when I sent it I wouldn’t lose the graphics and photos. But I never quite got to it –- three weeks ago Sister Wilson asked me to take over the mission newsletter. Now I’m trying to figure out how to do a program I wanted to learn a year ago (I struggle with making aging and technology compatible.)

The final prompting was to learn Spanish. I tried when I picked up Ryan from Honduras. I wasn’t successful. I’m still not successful, and there is a great Spanish speaking population here.

On the other hand, I’ve had the opportunity to see my cute companion working tirelessly as a businessman. He knows how to work with apartment managers and how to get things done. When he doesn’t know something, he finds out. We are working hard, learning a much, and having fun. We are so blessed to be here. We appreciate the prayers, love and concern you send our way. We are grateful to serve and pray that we can make a difference.