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Stories: Dear John...

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Dear John... 10 Oct 2006
I recently came across a letter that I had received while serving as a missionary in Switzerland. Although I had not read the letter for several years, as I read the words I was transported back in time to where I was the first time I had read it…

It was a beautiful sunny day in the late summer of 1997. My companion and I were just coming in from a great P-Day and were planning on getting ready to head out for the evening to do some missionary work. As we checked the mail I was excited and surprised to see that I got a letter from a special girl back home, having not received one from her for what seemed like several months. I raced up the several flights of stairs to our old apartment in Pratteln, Switzerland and sat down at my cluttered wooden desk eager to read her letter. But my excitement soon turned to sorrow as I read that she had decided to become engaged to one of my friends back at home. I knew this type of thing happened all the time to missionaries and I had even teased several elders when they got similar letters from girls they hoped were waiting for their return…but it did not seem funny now that it was happening to me.

As I sat at my desk, trying to digest what I had just read, my companion came into the room asking what we were going to do for the last three hours of the day. Work was the last thing on my throbbing mind, which began to throb harder after a quick glance at my planner revealed that we did not have any appointments scheduled for the evening. That could only mean one thing…tracting. All too often tracting became a humbling and less-than-enjoyable experience, especially being paired with a relatively new missionary that was not yet able to speak the language very well. I knew that I needed some time to think and get back into the right frame of mind before trying to be a messenger of a gospel promising peace and joy!

As I looked up at the map hanging on our wall, my eyes were drawn to a village in the southern-most point of our area…Waldenburg. Neither of us had ever been there because it was as far away from our apartment as you could get in our area. We never really wanted to try to find anyone to teach there because it would take up a large part of our day just to get there and back. However, on this day there could not have been a better place on earth. The trip would allow me the time to sulk for almost 90 minutes, followed by a few minutes of door-to-door tracting and another 90 minutes of sulking on the ride back home! I do not remember anything about that train ride except starring out the window wondering what I was going to do.

We arrived just before dark in Waldenburg and were surprised at how beautiful the village was. As we stepped off the train we were seemingly transported to a place that had been frozen in time. The streets were free of traffic and we were surrounded by the sound of church bells echoing through the beautiful green hills, ancient castle ruins and picturesque house-lined alleys. We looked at the train schedule and were glad to see that the last train left the station in less than one hour. Perfect. As we started down Waldenburg’s main street I remember having a prayer in my heart asking for peace and comfort. We knocked on the first door that we came to and were met by a friendly man who seemed very willing to hear our message and eagerly took a Book of Mormon. Something strange was afoot in this small town, because it seemed like it had been weeks since we had placed a book with someone who seemed to be interested in reading it.

We continued on our way and knocked on several more doors to no avail. Then we turned down a long, dark alley with dimly lit lanterns above each of the doors. We paused for a moment as we looked down the alley and a feeling came over me that I had seen this place before. There was something special about this row of houses in this little village in the middle of nowhere. This was the picture of Switzerland I had in my mind when I got my call to serve.

We checked our watches and figured we had enough time to knock a couple of doors before racing back to the train station to catch the last train out of town. We knocked the first few doors we came to, but nobody answered. And then we came to the second or third door on the right side of the alley. All the lights were off and it was getting late. We almost talked ourselves out of knocking because we didn’t want to make anyone upset. But we persisted and I gave the thick, wooden door a few good knocks. After a few moments a light came on from inside, the door slowly opened and we were met by a sleepy-eyed 6’-4” man, probably in his early 30s, standing in front of us in his underwear! It was all we could do to stand there without laughing; but as I started to talk to him I felt something change inside of me. Something was telling me that this contact was different. We talked for a few minutes, placed a Book of Mormon with him, challenged him to read it and promised that we would return to teach him the discussions at a later date. We thanked him for his time and told him we needed to go.

As he shut the door we stood there in amazement at what had just happened. In less than an hour we had placed two Books of Mormon and found someone to teach! I don’t know why, but I took out my camera and asked my companion to take my picture standing in front of that door with the dark alley fading off into the background. I could have never guessed how much that picture would mean to me in the coming years. We then ran as fast as we could back to the station and made it on the train with only a few minutes to spare. On the long train ride home I thought about the events of that day and thanked my Heavenly Father for being by my side to support me when I needed it.

That young man was baptized a few months later and became the most solid convert I ever came in contact with. I often joked with him that he must have been someone really special in the pre-existence because Heavenly Father had to take away the girl I fancied since my childhood to get me to go out and find him that night! He would later receive the Melchizidek priesthood and hold various callings in his ward. After I returned home from my mission he came to visit me and I escorted him through the temple as he received his endowments. He was later sealed in the Switzerland Temple for time and all eternity to a wonderful young woman from his new ward. He is today one of my best friends and made my mission more special than I ever could have imagined. I believe that many of the things in my patriarchal blessing refer directly to him. He has thanked me countless times for bringing the gospel to him.

It was his testimony of the gospel that helped him get through tough times. It was through his membership in the gospel that he has found numerous new friends that have supported him and become an important part of his life. And it was also the gospel that kept him going as he watched his young bride pass away from an unfortunate accident. He told me that he knows he will see her again because he was sealed to her in the Lord’s temple. I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to go through the things that he has, but I know that he could not have done it without the testimony of the restored gospel that he received, in part, because two elders who were led to knock on his door late one summer evening.

Looking back on it now, it seems that I came to a realization in that dark Swiss alley why the Lord instructed us to approach Him with our hearts broken and our spirits contrite. When we turn to him in meekness, he pours out his spirit over us to give us comfort and to lead us down His paths. One of my favorite quotes comes from Elder Henry B. Eyring…I have a personal knowledge of the truthfulness of his words: “The good works that really matter require the help of heaven; and receiving the help of heaven requires working so far past the point of fatigue that only the meek and the lowly will keep going long enough. The Lord does not put us through this process to simply give us a grade; He puts us through it because the process will change us.”

I never would have thought that events of one day of my mission would have had such a profound effect on my testimony of Him and bring me to an intimate knowledge of the love our Heavenly Father has for His children. As I sat reading that “Dear John” letter just a few days ago, I was again reminded that our Heavenly Father is waiting for us to turn to Him so He can lead us by the hand to where we need to be.

I am pretty sure that the young lady who wrote the letter had mixed emotions about sending it to me, but I now know that she was playing a role in Heavenly Father’s plan for someone that she had never even met. I think our lives are filled with experiences like this but most of the time we never get to have the blessing of knowing what is happening on the other side of the story. If I had not received her letter that day, I am almost certain that we would have never traveled to that village and knocked on those doors. Who knows how long it would have taken for someone to find Peter and give him the gospel that he has so desperately needed.

In the years since I have returned from Switzerland, not a day goes by that I don’t think about something that I experienced while serving there. I have relived September 15, 1997 more than any other day of my mission and still cannot believe how the events of one day could have such profound changes in the lives of several people. Peter and I continue to stay in touch and have a deep-rooted love and appreciation for one another and for the gospel that brought us together.

The picture I took standing in the alley next to his door now hangs in a frame on his wall along with one of my missionary badges and the scripture from Doctrine and Covenants 4:7: “Bittet, und ihr werdet empfangen; klopften an, und es wird euch aufgetan werden (Ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you).” I now know why missionaries are often asked to memorize that section of scripture. I know that the Lord works in mysterious ways and sometimes we do not see the blessings until years later. I am thankful that the experiences during the past several days have helped me remember some of the things I had forgotten.

*written January 1, 2005*
Ted Kendrick Send Email
 
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