May 10, 2021 Grand Island

 I'm going to be honest brothers and sisters. I really don't want to write this email. It's hard for me to put into words how much of a roller coaster this week has been. 

We've done a ton of service, sided a house, called a lot of members, knocked on a lot of (inactive member's) doors, and had a lot of fun. There have also been some really crazy thing that 

In everyone's mission, I think there are times that you wonder why on earth you are out there and moments that make it all worth it. There was a lot of both this week.

There was a ward barbecue this week, one of the first social activities since covid and the missionaries were BUSY. We tried to invite EVERYONE that we knew to this ward barbecue. As it turns out, Jasmine (one of our biggest investigators) and her mom were the only two individuals who showed up per our invitations. 

And that was totally fine. We talked a lot with the two of them, helping Jasmine's mom get a little bit more comfortable with our church and letting them see how real church members acted. We had really good conversations the whole time, but Sister Spendlove and I spent the whole time praying that a member would come over, introduce themselves, and be their friend.

I understand that it was our first ward social and everyone was a bit excited and nervous, but no one ever walked over.

Guys. We can't do that. The members of this church, YOU, ME, ALL OF US, are better than that. If you believe this gospel is true, then you simply can not be selfish with your friends or time. I BEG you, please, reach out to those around you.

A small miracle happened this week with this same theme. Both Sister Spendlove and I swear up and down that a Sister in the ward told us to call a lonely older woman. We reached out and she CRIED because of how forgotten she felt and how grateful she was that we called. She called the sister who had given us the referral, and that woman swore that she hadn't told the missionaries about her. I don't know for sure what happened, but I promise you this: God loves the lonely. He knows the forgotten. And he SENDS promptings to each of us to help those who are hurting.

I have a couple of invitations this week. First, pray to know who would be interested in the gospel message or who could need service provided by the missionaries. And as names come to your mind, which I promise they will as you continue to pray about thus, refer them to the missionaries. (Look, I know this seems scary and frightening and you don't want to damage relationships. You might think that you don't know any nonmembers. You probably do. And if you don't, you need to make more friends.)

My second invitation this week is to reach out to at least three people who may be forgotten, alone, hurting, or stressed. 

We had a really eventful week. We had an incident with a Bible basher, some bulls, a visit with an older member woman who swore that she was reincarnated and that our stake president was a disciple, and what I'm going to tell you know.

I really don't quite know how to tell you this story, but I'll do my best.

Jasmine told us once that she didn't know how to cook. So we invited her to join us in making dinner together, with a lesson planned for afterwards. Jasmine has bipolar disorder and so we have to be very careful what we say or do, but she is such enthusiastic and committed to the gospels that she learns.

Well, as we were making dinner, Jasmine bursts into tears and announces that she's going home. Startled, we ask why. She explained that her rolls didn't look as nice as mine, and that she couldn't do anything right. We assured her that she could, that her rolls looked great, and that she could leave if she wanted to but we'd really like her to stay. We hugged her and all three of us continued cooking.

As we were getting close to the end, Jasmine asked to try some frosting. Sister Spendlove, picked up the metal frosting bowl and offered it up to Jasmine. Several minutes ago, it had been on a low burner, but Sister Spendlove didn't feel any heat where she grabbed it. Jasmine touched the bottom of the pot and screamed. We rushed to get her ice and cold running water, but she refused both. Sister Spendlove apologized several times and said that it was an accident, but Jasmine kept saying that we did it on purpose and that we abused her. She called us a couple of names and wouldn't let us say anything. She ran out of the door crying. We're kind of worried about getting sued, but I didn't see any discoloration on her fingers so I don't think the burn was particularly painful.

You know those moments when everything just bubbles up and you aren't sure whether to cry or laugh? Sister Spendlove and I did both. 

There's nothing any of you could do that would make Jesus Christ or I love you any less (even if you call me an abuser),

Love,

Sister Brice

P.S. Happy Mother's day to all of the wonderful women I know, even if you aren't a mother and even if no one else said it. You're loved ❤