Monday, February 24, 2020

Week 16: Shackles



I'm doing really good! Genuinely and sincerely!


2 Nephi 4:31 "
O Lord, wilt thou redeem my soul? Wilt thou deliver me out of the hands of mine enemies? Wilt thou make me that I may shake at the appearance of sin?"

Matthew 11:28-29, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you crest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls."

Dear.... I'm too lazy to think of something even slightly witty to put up here,

Looking back at all of my letters this past month, it's plain to see that I've been feeling rather negative. Sorry about that... but today I'd like to talk about something else. I'd like to talk about shackles. More specifically the shackles that we can put on ourselves.

Here we are on the planet Earth, living in a world rife with corruption, sin, hatred, murder, addiction, depression, oppression, and whatever other terrible thing that you can think of. It's a world where nearly everyone just wanders from place to place, barely making it each day, far too tired, or lazy, or apathetic to change the proverbial swamp of misery that they find themselves in. We don't ignore the problems- just the solutions. Because those solutions are like a far off dream. They're long term, and we can't see what lies at the end of their prospective roads. It's not that we don't know what we should do, it's that we don't care enough to do it.  We're like the apostles in Romans 7, "I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me... But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members." (21, 23)

So it is that, despite having the tools to change and to be happy, we often choose not to be. We often choose to let ourselves be led away into captivity. Not because we don't know how to be saved, not because we can't do it. But because we just... can't always bring ourselves to care. So we lie to ourselves. We say that all is well when it's plain to see that, no, all is not well. We are like the people mentioned in 2 Nephi 28:21, "And others he (the devil) will pacify, and lull them away into carnal security, that they will say: All is well in Zion; yea, Zion prospereth, all is well—and thus the devil cheated (our) souls, and leadeth them away carefully down to hell."

So that's the situation, so far as I see it. But what is it that we're supposed to do. What are we supposed to do when, having been given everything, we still fail. And we do so in a struggle silence- without the climax of the fight. We let the wind and hail beat against our face, and tell ourselves that "all is well, for the rain will soon stop," instead of seeking shelter as we know we should. Choosing to leave ourselves shackled in our own chains, and lock them tight rather than using the key. Because it's so much easier to do nothing, than to do something.

We reap what we sow, without having sewed even the smallest seeds. Thus, when the world turns to chaos, and someday we will find ourselves starving, with nothing to feed our testimony.
I'd also like to say that, if I can do my 30 minutes of exercise each morning here on the mission- tired and apathetic though I feel- then every one of you can give the effort, can care just enough, to overcome the overwhelming apathy that I know some have. Because life wasn't supposed to be easy. But that's okay. As a very wise woman once told me, "It's okay for this to be hard." And it is. Because the greater the struggle, the greater the reward. And the reward is greater than we can imagine.


I don't know if this letter makes sense. But I'd just like to say that this fight is important. It's a wrestle before God, to receive a remission for our sins (Enos 1:2). And not only is the fight against the devil important, but it's well worth it. It's not always easy to be excited about life, about looking at yourself in the mirror, about walking in the rain, about struggling with our doubts. But I'd like to share this scripture form 2 Corinthians 4 that I read sometimes when I feel down or out. "... but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.  For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;"


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The Knots in My Head
- By Brayden Monson

My neck bends down-
And my eyes tear up-
And, I can't stand to feel-
What time can never heal-

The knots in my head-
Weigh me down each time I frown-
Like my soul is made of lead-
And all I can see are my hands-
They're red-
And it's an image that I just can't shed-

From my mind because I'm so confined-
Stuck seein' scenes and sentiment simply to sack-
The suspicious and sepratized solely strivin' to get back-
Our of their stump, cause their just a needle in a stack and we always loose track of everyone in the clump-
To busy playin' card in the shack to notice whom it is that we lack-
Cause- sometimes- it's too hard to know that, in the end, we're all livin' life a hack-
Livin' in our lx to the max pretendin' we know them needles are more, so much more, than tack we can pin down, into the ground-

And I can't take it no more-
Because I've got Knots in my Head-
And my eyes are growin' sore-
From thinkin' of the poor as though it's a chore-
For the things I've never done or said-
For the sins for which I've bled-

And I can't be sure-
Could I have done more?-
People have told me their lie worthy lore-
That those in the stack are lying for sure-
They're something we ignore-
They're something I've, tried to ignore-

Because they're not something, their someones-
Like me, like you, we all live under the same sun-
We tell them, "when there's no fish in the pond it's time to move on"-
The same old dance and song-

My neck bends down-
And my eyes tear up
And I can't stand to feel-
What time has never healed-
The lies we pretend have been sealed into truth-
But look a little closer, past the outer peel-
Cause the stack deserves our help, not just out pity-

(Side note, I wrote this around 3 months ago. I just figured I'd send it now)


-Elder Brayden H. Monson

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Week 15: Mirrors



Ether 12:27- "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their aweakness. I bgive unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my cgrace is sufficient for all men that dhumble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make eweak things become strong unto them.
  
Dear People (I'm not really sure which people, but there certainly are a few of them!),

Guys, I'm so tired right now. Like, I'm so, so tired, physically and emotionally. This week has been a bit of a rollercoaster- and I mean that in every proverbial way you can interpret it. There have been so many ups, and oh, so many downs. And I'm, again, so tired. That's alright though, being tired just shows that I really am working with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. It really brings a new understanding to the Alma 26:12, which reads, "Yea, I know that I am anothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will bnot boast of myself"


Got to be honest here, I prayed to God to grant me the gift of humility... kind of wish that I hadn't now.... Because, despite how hard I'm working, I'm never satisfied with the results- though realistically I should be. I should be satisfied, I've had 4 baptisms, have 2 more who are on date to be baptized, and almost always meet my weekly goals. Yet, despite all of this, I don't feel overly satisfied with the results, the fruits of my labor. I often ask myself, "why didn't this person come to church today, after we committed him with all the power we have?" Or, "do they just not care about what we're saying? Why did they let us in their home in the first place if they don't care?"

I've thought about these questions a lot. Not because they specifically apply to me and my mission- as I've already stated, I'm actually having a lot of success. But I can't help but wonder why, in the States for example, so few people are willing to hear missionaries out. I understand being skeptical- everyone knows I understand that brand of cynicism. It's the one I have to fight off each day. I also understand it when people decide that the Gospel of Jesus Christ isn't for them, though it's not a sentiment I personally agree with. But I can't understand why so many people are unwilling to even hear us out, to even try. Because I'm trying, I'm trying with everything I can. So why won't the people try? Why won't they do as do as Alma asked us to "arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith." (Alma 32:27)

As I've said, I've been thinking about this a lot. And I think I have an answer that, in the least, can satisfy me.
The reason so many people so immediately reject the greatest opportunity they will ever have in their lives- the opportunity to find peace a joy in a world gone wrong- is because the Gospel of Jesus Christ is, in reality, a mirror. The gospel of Jesus Christ shows us who we are, on the inside. It forces us to be as the people of King Benjamin who, "aviewed themselves in their own bcarnal state, even cless than the dust of the earth." (Mosiah 4:2)

People hate changing. More than that, they hate knowing that change is something that they must do. It's not a pleasant experience, being aware of your own faults, living with them, dying a little bit each day due to the weight they add. They reject us because the average person doesn't understand that it is only when we see ourselves perfectly, as we really are, that we realize just how meaningless we actually are.
And that ability, to see ourselves with infinite light and infinite clarity, is the greatest gift that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could possibly have given us. Because we really are, in the end, nothing more than organized matter, organized dust. But God has given us anything despite- or perhaps in spite- of that. They've given us an Atonement that's infinite. They've given us the ability to change and to improve- every day of our lives. The literal creators of the universe have their hands extended towards us. And that's why I can't help but feel a little heartbroken when people don't even try to grab onto them. 


And I feel the same way as God does, to some limited extent.
As it says in Jacob 5:41- And it came to pass that the Lord of the vineyard wept, and said unto the servant: aWhat could I have done more for my vineyard?" Nothing more. The Lord of the Vineyard has already done everything he can. Now it's our turn, to choose to accept it.

Elder Brayden H. Monson


A few short video clips Elder Monson wanted to share. They show his personality that is for sure. :)









Monday, February 10, 2020

Week 14: Pray for the Cynics

 Dear 61ish people out there,

Alma 46:8 "Thus we see how quick the children of men do forget the Lord their God, yea, how quick to do iniquity, and to be led away by the evil one."

Isaiah 55:8-9. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."

This week has been really really weird. Like, everything that we've done has been sort of... off. But maybe that's just how things are here in Chile, because every day in Chile is just a little bit weird. It's been a good week, but a weird one.

We had a baptism this week of a little girl. She's 9-years-old. I got to baptize her. Normally when people talk about baptizing someone they say it was a really spiritual experience. But, honestly, I didn't feel a ton while doing it, it was just sort of stressful. We've been working so hard to get this girl into the water and so many things were constantly going wrong with it. Right after she got into the water she started getting out again because she forgot to go to the bathroom. It was just a weird experience for me. I hope and assume that it was good for her, but I don't really want to ask. And even if I did, I'm not sure if she'd be honest with me. People don't really like to be honest with the missionaries. Everyone is either busy or has "seen the face of God" or believes in the Bible but doesn't want to learn about Jesus Christ.

Maybe it's just my cynicism talking, and maybe I'm just tired, but I always feel a little bit weird when people get up in testimony meeting, share what seems to be a really amazing experience, and then sit down. I can't help but wonder why they're saying what they are. I can't help but wonder why I can't remember experiences similar to that. I know I've had them- I think I've had them in the very least. I have a journal and a weekly letter full of them. So why can't I always  remember my miracles when I need to? Why do I so often feel a little unhappy, when I'm trying to do everything I can to follow God and follow the commandments? How can I tell which of my thoughts are my own, and which are from God?

All of these good questions, I'd say. Complex questions, the sorts of questions that you would- and I have- written books about. They're the sorts of things that often drive me crazy for hours and hours on end. Knots in my head.

Because I tend to be a cynical person. And when things happen, when things don't go well, I can't but help asking why. And I can't help but feeling like I want and deserve an answer. But... that's not really how God works. Everything happens for a reason, but sometimes that reason is more mundane than we'd like to imagine. Sometimes God doesn't want to give us answers, because we shouldn't need to have an answer for every little thing that happens. But I'm a cynic, and not knowing those things, not having an overwhelmingly powerful experience with the Spirit, is hard for me. But faith is not a perfect knowledge of things (Ether 12:6), faith is learning to act before we know the consequences of our actions. Faith is to trust that God has a plan, and hands too large for us to see with our gaze limited as it is.

This was kind of a weird letter, I know. But I'd like to extend an invitation. Pray for the cynics, in general. Cynics get a bad rap from religion- people assume that they're bad people just because they (oftentimes) don't have a lot of faith in God- with some obvious exceptions. And that's not the right attitude to have. Because cynics- my friends- are just people who have never been shown the hand of God in their right way. They're people who trust in themselves more than in those around them. But, more importantly, they're people who are trying. With the limited information they have, with the limited hope and will and strength and faith they have, they're trying. They want to find the truth, but haven't ever been shown it in an effective way, oftentimes.

And I love cynics, I love them so much. Because they want to be happy, they want truth. But they know not where to find it, even if it's right in front of them. They're the ones who need to see the Lord's hands the most, in the small and simple things in their lives (Alma 36:6-7). Because that's what's going to help them, small and simple things. Small and simple acts of kindness and love.
So pray for the cynics, and love them. Because they can't feel God's love sometime, and they need help. I'm out here because of my friends and my family, who have proven to me that God exists. Not because they've spoken with the tongue of angels or parted the Red Sea, but because, whenever my heart is depressed and I ask God for help, one of them talks to me. And they remind me that there really is someone out there looking out for me.
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Thanks this week to:

My Grandparents, who I know have prayed for me every day of my life. That's 7534 days of someone taking time out of their day to remember me and that's amazing.

Abbey Simmons, who gets cynicism.

Ximena Franco, who is kind, and loving, and trying.
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Elder Brayden H. Monson

Monday, February 3, 2020

Week... 13 The Rain

Dear Fellow Intelligences,

Jacob 5:22 "And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and thou beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit."

Alma 36: 3 "And now, O my son Helaman, behold, thou art in thy youth, and therefore, I beseech of thee that thou wilt hear my words and learn of me; for I do know that whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials, and their troubles, and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day."

Today, I'd like to talk a little bit about something very personal to me. I'm writing about it because, frankly, I write these weekly letters more for my own benefit, than anything else- I'm a bit selfish like that. Because today I'm writing more of an extended journal entry, than a letter home. Because today I'm talking about something important: Rain.

I, and most people, spend most of our lives trying to avoid the rain. We duck undercover, we carry umbrellas, we build houses and find every excuse possible to stay in them. Because being in the rain it, frankly, a bit miserable, not because the rain itself is a bad thing, but because it's something that's so far out of our reach- out of our control- that most people can't help but hate it. The greyish hues of days long past are pressed into our memories like binds in a board, sticking out obviously and vividly, made of a different fabric than the rest of our lives.

Now this rain, this gloom, has a way of staying with us all the day, long after it's stopped, anyways. After so many days spent praising the sun- it's glory, it's majesty- any sort of change to our daily routine can seem catastrophic and devastating. When it rains, it can seem as though the very Earth itself hates us, the soft dirt turning to the type of mud that sticks to our boots and feet. The type that we carry with us into the house, leaving it's brownish stain over our lives in a trail of filth. Even in the safety of our homes, the rain is still there pestering us with its pittering and pattering. A constant reminder that our safety is a tenuous thing, subject to the same changes that every live has. Reminding us what it was to be in the rain, to live a life suffocated by that which stings and bites, wearing us down but doing so with all the patience a predator who knows it's prey cannot escape. Draining our already half-empty glass of Enthusiasm until the towel is too wet to throw, until we don't even have enough energy to give up properly.

The thing about the rain, is that everyone seems to hate it. It's a law of nature. Like the Hobbits, humans are all about doing that which brings the easiest senses of comfort. We don't like to struggle, we don't like to grow. We like to stay right where we are, thank you very much. We haven't the time to suffer and certainly not to weep. The rain is a terrible, and when the sky goes grey people complain. But not me, nor- I think- my sister. Because we love the rain, because we've seen what the rain can do. I've lived most of my life with the sun half hidden and I've come to understand it, and it's relationship with me personally. And what I've come to understand is something that every child should know: Nothing can grow without rain. Not seeds, not the Earth, and- most importantly- not people.

2 Nephi 2: 11 "For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my firstborn in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must needs be a compound in one; wherefore, if it should be one body it must needs remain as dead, having no life neither death, nor corruption nor incorruption, happiness nor misery, neither sense nor insensibility."

I don't like being in the rain, no one does. I like sitting just outside of it. But I like knowing that it's out there because I like to remember what it was like to live in the storm. Every time it rained back at home I would stay inside, as any sane person would. But I wouldn't try to ignore the rain, I'd take my computer up out of my room, and write. Listening to the rain, remembering what it was like to be cold and shivering and helpless. Remembering what it was like to look at the ground and, occasionally, see someone down there who was just as tired and miserable as I was. Someone who understood how I felt.

It rains a lot here in Chile, despite what the proverbial forecasts might tell you. Before leaving on a mission no one ever told me how hard it was going to be- or if they did I didn't understand it. I expected to be wet on a mission, but that was because I expected to be spending most of my time down in the Baptismal Font. I knew I'd shiver, but my irrational brain always thought it'd be because the next person to be baptized was busy changing their clothes. I always expected the shelter of my house to be there. But it's not. That's what I never understood before coming out here. But that doesn't mean I'm miserable. It doesn't even really mean that I'm unhappy, I'm quite happy. Not all the time, of course. But I am. And here's why:

2 Nephi 2: 26-27 " O then, if I have seen so great things, if the Lord in his condescension unto the children of men hath visited men in so much mercy, why should my heart weep and my soul linger in the valley of sorrow, and my flesh waste away, and my strength slacken, because of mine afflictions? And why should I yield to sin, because of my flesh? Yea, why should I give way to temptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my peace and afflict my soul?"

It rains a lot here in Chile, but it rained just as much at home. And I love the rain. So does Heavenly Father, He who gave us life. We are His seeds. And He knows that, without the rain, we will never grow. And I do have shelter to retreat to, because Jesus is our rock, and with Him we can withstand any storm. Two years- 21 months- of this is going to be hard, but I can always manage one more week. Always. So, my invitation to all of you out there, is to love the rain just a little bit more this week.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a great picture from before he left.

Thank you this week to:

ENTHUSIASM- What I consider to be the greatest superpower of them all.
Megan Monson- Who spent 18 months in a perpetual storm.
My new companion Elder Turpin- Who lets me take 5 minute breaks whenever I need to.

Until next week.

- Elder Brayden Hunter Monson.