Every week two worlds collide within our ward building--as both the earlier and later branches intertwine in the midst of their churchblocks. The main hallway morphs in to a perfect bedlam of the newest Saratov Stock exchange--especially for those with badges on. Yesterday, after the lesson of bliss with the investigator of suspense--Nikita- Sister Hancock, Tamara, President, and I spill out in to the mix of Russians intersprinkled with Americans and Armanians. I fall upon the guests of honor--Nikita's mother and aunt, who need ALL immediate attention with regard to scheduling imperative detail for the baptismal service of 10 year old Nikita for SATURDAY!!!! Meanwhile, BTW minor detail--it might help to know that relationships with these two women--Lena and aunt--have been RATHER fragile and on the fence as Nikita has fought and sought for an answer of confirmation---so of course every percent of my attention is on them---when I simultaneously have babushka Tamara Feodorova tugging on my arms in order to get me to a private conversation with the branch president, who I'd JUST BEEN WITH---while other Russian girls scurry past, tossing out birthday clementines, when Liodmila from the other ward demands the contact info switch for her granddaughter referral-grabbing clementines out of my hand, putting her phone up to my ear, as I record the Russian phone number being relayed to me in the phone on my hand. Bogdan is stealing my bag and checking his wristwatch calling "GO HOME!!" in English, molodietz kid. While OTHER liodmilla shoves us it to a corner to say "Cheese" as she snaps the directory photo of the two sister missionaries.
Post mission sundays will never be the same.
Run-on paragraphs will never be literarily legal.
Wonderful exchange with Sisters Johnson and Scott in Balikova. Went really well--and ever pleasant to have a personal choeffeur named VAGEEV--haha, the same crazy man who gave us a run for our money just two weeks ago at 2 in the morning. I can't count how many times he turned over his shoulder to me in the backseat to grunt-call "KA-LYDE!!!" in order to get my attention he already had. Hahha, Sister Hancock giggling in the frontseat the whole time. We invited him to our activity but he wanted to sleep instead. Ugh, what a tough work schedule to be a taxi driver night owl. Been thinking a lot about the verse, "Is not life more than meant, and then body than raiment?" when I see this crazy crazy world. Full of those who claim they can't find a spare second for anything. There's so much more to the purpose of our lives than the fast paced demand!! I suppose it will be a grave awakening--when the day of reminiscing dawns on us--to find that the work hours punched can't and won't bring us the same value that relationships with family and Heavenly Father always will.
I love my mission. Don't have a whole lot of time--we're hopping on a train to Samara in two hours for an exchange and then VISA TRIP, take 2. Hey there Kiev, what's doin. Going to Ukraine to legalize-Sister Hancock, Sigman, Elder Fennemore, other assistants will be there--just before hopping in mission van speed trip back down, just in time for a happy hearty Thanksgiving meal of missionaries at the Childers. How lovely. Praying for pie of the pumpkin assort.