May 3, 2021 "I Went Into A Bar And a Druglord's Bedroom"

 Hello Brothers and Sisters!

I hope everyone is doing well. I pray for you and love you all dearly. May God walk beside you in all that you do. I hope I didn't scare you too much with the title of my email, but a good friend of mine recently demanded that I do my best to keep my emails interesting and I will do my best to comply. 

**All Stories Told Are 100% True But Imagery is Given to Best Improve the Experience**

It all began on Monday. We were unintentionally helping a potential investigator (...Debbie) wage a war against her neighbors. So, supposedly, like many Nebraskans, Debbie's neighbor suffered from COPD, a respitory disease often caused by smoking or obesity. And pollen was especially irritating to her breathing/life threatening condition. Well, dear Debbie believes in an au naturale yard, which is another way of saying that she doesn't care what or who grows there. 

Anways, Debbie was watching us pick dandelions for her while we tried to talk about the gospel but we were instead told Debbie's entire life story along with with all of her bank account information. We helped Debbie turn the dandelions into tea (don't worry guys, it was just herbal) and let it sit over night and then came over the next day to start to caramelize it in the hope of making dandelion syrup. 

Well, Debbie is a teensy tinsy bit of a hoarder, but she happened to run out of sugar. So she had to go to Walmart. As she was leaving, Debbie called over her shoulder that she 'didn't think' that either of her felon drug lords that she picked off the street and allowed to sleep in her basement were there, so we could go down and grab canning jars to put the syrup in. As soon as she was out the door, Sister Spendlove and I 'nose goes'ed about who had to go downstairs.

I lost.

So I began the trek downstairs. Now Debbie had experienced a flood about 6ish years ago and had to remove most of the flooring. So I had to carefully maneuver around the carpet tacks and occasional nails sticking up from the ground while using my dim phone flashlight to peer amidst the stacked piles of clothes and urine stained mattresses. Having been in the basement before (accompanied by light and other people) I knew that the canning jars were through one of the druglord's bedrooms and beside the bathroom without a sink. I have never been afraid of the dark before, until that night.

So, I finally found the right room with only one small shriek and began sorting through her canning supplies. Now Debbie is... an avid experimental canner. Which is another way to say that I'd pick up a jar and play a play a guessing game if I had just found a canned cat brain or a dried pile of raspberries and peaches ready for a... pie? Forbidden fruit.

I grabbed a couple of old empty smucker's jars and hurried upstairs. We washed them out, talked a lot about men and life, and began to wonder where Debbie was because she had been gone for more than thirty minutes. We called her and she was just wandering the aisles of Walmart, browsing. We reminded her to grab the sugar and that we needed to leave at three.

About ten minutes later, she arrived back at her house with an announcement. "Oh, I just hate Walmart. I was hurrying out, so I cut in front of some disabled woman on oxygen and the cashier was SO rude. She told me that she had to help the woman behind me first! So I had to go through the self checkout line and I HATE the self checkout line so I think I might have just shoplifted this lemon."

I opened my mouth to reply, the ethical and moral parts of me sCrEaMiNg to let this woman know that she had just broken at least one law and the code of politeness and human decency, but I didn't. Some part of me, perhaps fear of this woman or perhaps the Spirit  prevented me from opening my mouth.. How do you help someone who does not see anything wrong with what they are doing?

So we finished the dandelion syrup (which was basically just root tasting sugar water/syrup) and Debbie told us that she was going to write an article for the paper with our pictures in it explaining how amazing dandelions are (apparently they are imported from Holland to increase nutrition in the soil and every bit of a dandelion plant is edible. Go figure) and to protest being asked to take care of her lawn.

Well, as we were leaving for the first day, Debbie asked us if we could pick up a pizza for her. We agreed and went over to the address. I kid you not, we walked into a bar. Cigarette smoke PILLOWED out when we opened the door and everyone stared at us two little missionary girls walked into the bar. One man leaned back in his booth, taking a huge whiff of his rolled cigar as he stared at us. Now, this was my first experience in a bar and I was not expecting it to be so... real. So bar-ry.  Two men pulled up from the pool table, setting their frothy buckets of beer down to examine us. Three women in tank tops and fake country boots on the barstools swirled their seats around to look at us and one raised her eyebrow at us like- 'I know who you are and you really shouldn't be here, and maybe I shouldn't either' kind of look.

Guys, I got this weird feeling I wasn't wanted there. Like, just maybe, missionaries weren't supposed to GO INTO BARS. And I didn't feel the Spirit leave me, which was incredible all on its own, but I felt the absence of the Spirit in them and in the room. This building felt hollow, despite the loud music and billowing smoke. It felt empty. 

Back to my story: a server woman walks up to us, potentially noticing how lost we look. She scans us up and down, her gaze lingering on our nametags, and asks if she could help us. And we told her that we just wanted a pizza that Debbie ordered.

She nodded and went in the back to grab it. Since the bar had gone quiet, everyone was staring at us, and my trainer had gone silent, I decided to make some small talk with my companion.

"Did you know," I began, pointing to the blue ribbon logo on their business. "That blue represents first place in America but in Europe and some other areas they use red? So if this place ever expands into other countries, you might want to change the logo." 

Crickets. Silence. The kind that deafens stadiums or the stillness right before thunder. Everyone in the bar was listening. 

Sister Spendlove glanced at me. I'm not completely sure what she was thinking, but it might have been horror. I wasn't sure.

We were saved by the pizza.

And that was my first experience with a bar.

Very quickly, I'll relay the two other dominant incidences of the week. 

One, my zone decided to find twenty new individuals that we were going to teach. This hadn't been done in many months, so we decided to fast together as a zone and share the miracles that we experienced. We ended up with twenty two new people to teach in our zone.

Also, I was having a pretty crappy time on Saturday. But we had stake conference and we were invited to the adult and YA session on Saturday. 

And so many people went up to me, touching me or hugging me in a way that I think will happen to the Savior. And they would grab my hand or my shoulder or my elbow and tell me 'Thank you. Thank you for serving. Two sister missionaries changed my life.'

And the stake presidency and the two members of the seventy came right up to us. They shook our hands and pulled us close and thanked us for our service and spoke words that I needed to hear. For those of you that know them, Elder Jaggi and Elder Coons, are some of the most spiritual and amazing individuals that I have ever met. 

Anyways, I'll end there so I don't overwhelm you with words! 

I just wanted to share with you guys that the Book of Mormon is true. It testifies of Christ. It was translated by Joseph Smith. And, by understanding and abiding- by ACTING on the precepts and lessons found within its stories, you will get closer to God that you ever imagined possible. If you don't know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God, I invite you to start the process of figuring that out.

I invite you to study the Book of Mormon. Not casually read it, but to study it. Figure out what each story teaches you about Chrisr and about following him.

Ponder on the lessons you learn. Right down the messages you hear or feel. (Those are promptings).

Act on the lessons. The scriptures invite you to abide in them. That means to live in them. 

Pray to God until He becomes YOUR God.

And then? Then ask Him if what you are reading is true. 

Because honestly, if you don't know if the Book of Mormon is true, it just becomes a book. A good book perhaps, but it doesn't become life changing until you believe that it is the word of God. I testify this it is. And you can figure that out for yourself. If you don't already believe its truthfulness, I invite you to act.

As always, there is nothing that you could do that would make Jesus Christ or I love you any less.

God Bless You All,

Sister Sophie Brice