Mansell Choro and I were companions in Asahigawa during the winter of 1983. As most of you doubtlessly experienced, one evening we found ourselves facing an extreme Hokkaido snow blizzard. "Good thing we have the night full of appointments, and don't have to go knocking on doors" we said to ourselves while having dinner in the apartment.

Then the phone began to ring. One by one, our appointments cancelled, ironically, due to weather. We gazed out the window at the white-out conditions and contemplated the evening before us. We started talking about all the things we could do in the apartment - call less-actives, set up appointments by phone, catch up on our journals, polish our japanese, study the scriptures, and so on. Truth be told, with the conditions what they were, I honestly don't think we were expected to go out that night, by the Lord or anyone else. But then that got us thinking...

*If conditions were really that bad and we still sacrificed and went out and knocked on doors, imagine how the Lord might bless us*... We bundled up and pressed our way into the storm, choosing to go to an area that was not at all nearby to demonstrate the completeness of our resolve. We started knocking, expecting at every door to see the glowing faces of that golden family who would ask us to baptize them on the spot.

But as the snow drifts gathered on our faces, no doors were opened to us. After a few hours, we thought someone would at least let us in because they felt sorry for us. But that didn't even happen.

Now, for those reading this story who haven't tracted in Japan, it was normal to get into one or two houses in the course of a 4 hour evening of knocking on doors (at least in 1983). So, we pressed on.

I think 8pm was the mission deadline at the time to stop knocking on doors. After that time, you were likely to start catching people in their PJ's. But Mansell and I were so convinced we were going to find that perfect family that we stretched that to 8:30pm, and then to 9pm. Still nothing. All we had were a bunch of "call backs" - you know, when they tell you tonight is not good and you ask "how about another time", and they say "OK". (Usually translated as a polite "no thanks, now leave"). But, we dutifully kept track of each call-back.

Finally, when we *did* start getting people out of bed, we quit. It was a long walk back to the apartment and neither of us said a word. We were afraid to say out loud what we were both feeling: "how could the Lord let us down like that...?". We were frozen to the bone. We said our prayers and went to bed dejected and exhausted.

...

Fast-forward one month. Mansell Choro and I had put that dark night behind us and were having terrific success. We sat down one night and took inventory of our current teaching pool. We were having trouble keeping up teaching everyone on our list. Knocking on doors was a thing of the past.

As we put colored pins on a map where each investigator lived, we marvelled how most of them happened to be in the same far-off area. As we stared at the map, we realized it was beyond a coincidence. We started thinking about each investigator and how we first contacted them. In almost every case, we traced them back to the call-backs we obtained on that stormy night. Many of them had actually said "yes, come in" when we called back on them. The realization of how we had been truly blessed hit us (along with a pang of guilt for ever doubting the Lord).

If we had received the blessing we were hoping for that stormy night and had gotten in one door, we would never have collected all those call-backs for families that we eventually ended up having the priviledge of teaching. One of those families (Nomizu) I am still in contact with today, nearly 22 years later.

I can't help but think how this story applies to my life today, as much as ever. Raising a family, pursuing a career, and trying to keep up with all of life's demands sometimes feels like that stormy night. I have to remind myself that if I remain faithful in doing the little things, like reading scriptures and saying my prayers, that the Lord will reciprocate in his own time and in his own way.