Interludes and Inter-“missions”

 The story isn’t over for those who have followed the events and thoughts in “Along the Hong River” just as it isn’t for us in our renewed life along the Oklahoma River. It is now a full two years since we emptied the storage unit which held our earthly belongings, thinning again our possessions,  before reassembling the puzzle into the space of our home on Northwest 17th Street. A lot of the content of our daily activity is not terribly different than it was while we lived in Hanoi, while some things are decidedly different.

We still rise early (the 5:30 am alarm is mostly redundant since the biologic clock is quite firmly set it would seem) and engage in morning exercise and gospel study. We use that study period to seek guidance and revelatory ideas that will help us lift and serve those whom we may meet or connect with during that day and days ahead. My friend and missionary department proselyting guru David Weidman counseled me to inquire of the Lord each day as to which of our elders or sisters may need an emotional touch of some sort that day. More often than not, when I have done that, the resulting experience has been rich and tender. The lesson for me is that the endowment of love for our fellow missionaries, and for the saints and friends that came into our lives there, carries with it the responsibility and opportunity to continue to minister and grow with them.

It wasn’t very long after we had been home that I realized how treacherous the period of  life following a mission was for most returning missionaries. So many critical decisions were to be made, that would lock them into patterns and positions that would work powerfully for their good, or for ill. Selecting the right spouse seemed to me the most potent of these decisions. So for many months now, I have prayed and fasted for them in that regard, sometimes as a whole, and sometimes for particular ones. The readily obtained answers to these pleadings are beginning to accrue. This month, four new families were founded in the Holy Temples, and lives full of hope and anticipation have been launched together with able and worthy spouses. If the ultimate measure of our efforts is to be measured in the character and devotion of the grandchildren of those missionaries, then we have reason to hope for good inasmuch as so many have begun well, taking to heart the admonition to “do it right from the beginning.” We rejoice in their joy, and hope in their hope.

 

Similarly, as the number of offspring from these marriages begins to grow and these young fresh spirits make their entrance onto the stage of life, we feel great anticipation and excitement. Mission grandchildren, as we have come to refer to these offspring, are a big part of our joy as well. We only regret that limitations on time, resources, and the current travel restrictions have cut off direct contact with these joys, as well as our own biologic grandchildren. 

In another aspect of the heritage of these genealogies, we have the on-going opportunity to see many of the new converts and even former investigators of our time in Vietnam stepping forward to serve full-time missions. For many of these Pioneers, this is not a trivial decision, nor even entirely their own. Our dear friend L was baptized in 2017, the only member of her family, of course. As a young woman who had entered the workforce following school, her family’s next expectation was for her to marry and begin a family. But to make matters more complicated, a sibling was pursuing a career in the Public Security arm of the government. As is well known to all in that division, a primary responsibility is to oversee potentially seditious religious organizations, and therefore any officer with personal OR family connections to religious organizations is black-marked to not advance into increased duties. Hence that same sibling looked upon L as blocking their ability to move up in the security apparatus, and as the oldest child, he easily recruited both parents into opposing L’s participation, attendance, and support for the Church. 

But Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles, after much counsel, prayer, fasting, and gentle persuasion, God did make a wall fall down. What tremendous joy we felt when the text came from L detailing with ebullient joy that both parents had granted permission for L to serve a mission. To make matters even sweeter, we know a certain returned missionary who will be waiting for the completion of that service. So our fasting for L and L’s parents, also meant fasting for a future spouse of infinite worth and high commitment and faith. It was two for one!

And so the rivers flow and we shall both watch from the banks, and at times follow the currents.

Quantum leaps and Linear Thinking

We spent some time of late waiting on the road leading up to the ferry to cross the Mekong into Long Xuyen. We’ve been this way before, and on normal days the traffic backs up a bit, but the three or four ferries running simultaneously manage to keep the back up to a 30-45 minute wait. But add in the ending of the Tet holiday, when half of the populace is enjoying the last few days of their time off work, and another portion is trying to get back to their daily lives so they can resume work, and the shippers are trying to catch up with the shelves-emptying buying that preceded the holiday, and it should not surprise one that the waiting time doubles or triples.

Prior to the building of bridges such waits were just a part of the travel and one factored in the wait and the vagaries of such travel into one’s expectations. Then they started to build the grand suspension bridges across the Mekong that we have today, and suddenly the paradigm changes. And while traffic across the bridges can still slow down on holidays (as it did over the Ben Tre bridge the last time we visited there on a three-day weekend) the thinking has changed.

So it is with infrastructure. The bridge spans the chasm and suddenly every subsequent traveler ceases to dread the journey or ponder their life while they wait on the descent and ascent of the chasm.

That’s very much what we have been doing with this mission. We have been building the bridges across chasms of disbelief. We have been building the freeways (or at least the straight roads) that subsequent generations of God’s Army will follow to further the establishment of the cities of Zion. Things like robust visa processes still stymy us at times. Getting materials for use in the growing number of branches, or for use of our branch builders still occasionally get stalled in crossing. But more and more the basic matters become routine, proceduralized and sometimes simpler.

We have noticed that at times the work seems to perk along at a rather linear pace, proportionate to the number of workers. And we have been blessed to be a mission whose ranks have increased wonderfully over the past two years as others have commented. But sometimes, irrespective of the gross numbers, there seems to be a jump in the curves, a shift in the slope, an underlying change in the assumptions of what is possible.

We will discuss a question in the coming Mission Presidents Seminar that we posed with our leadership counsel a few months back. A question that asks what is possible, what it would take, to bring every area, every companionship, into the productive phase of the work.

We see fields that lie fallow during certain seasons of the year, but then are brought into production with re-plowing, planting and the maturing of the tropical sun and rains. Similarly, we have been learning how to prepare the paddy, how to engineer the watering and drainage in our young branches, how to nurture the paddy rice so that it can be transplanted into appropriately spacing and then flourish until it is ready for the harvest.

We have spent a little time again in the Mekong, which though it is the breadbasket of this country, is not yet ready to be brought into regular cultivation in the harvest of the Lord. But the land is sometimes so fertile that the harvest can hardly be restrained. This is the one place where we have seen the conversion of entire extended families to the gospel of Jesus Christ. There is a humility, and a hunger, that when exposed to the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ, seem to allow a rapid harvest. And in that we rejoice both in the harvest, and the Lord of the Harvest.

We sometimes are still caught doing linear thinking when the Lord is seeing a quantum leap. And we understand more fully his assertion that he will “hasten his work in his time” in conjunction with the prophetic words of Elder Holland, “You are witnessing the birth of the church in a day.” We are grateful that this is our day.

Turning further towards our desires...

                                   

The things that motivate us are most often pretty universal, although also individual. In a country with a history of poverty and deprivation, the widespread yearning to build a better economic life for themselves and their children has been a dominant theme in Vietnam's psyche for a long time. The belief that by working more, working harder, they can lift themselves from their plight is prevalent. We often encounter people who work 15-17 hours a day to provide for their families. It is a habit born of the day when one's employment barely covered the costs of putting rice in the bowl for half the month. Lawyers and teachers take on extra work by driving an Uber or Grab ride-sharing vehicle in their off hours. Home businesses (from selling smoothies to hardware) supplement the office job or factory work, managed by the at-home grandparent or spouse, usually with opening hours that would make a convenience store jealous.  
Clearly related to this is the recognition that war and conflict poses a risk to that hope, just as it has imposed a heavy cost in the past. So a desire for peace has also been a celebrated theme here for a long time. 
Hanoi has proclaimed itself a "city of Peace" and the symbolism of the dove figures strongly in public iconography, right down to the public buses that feature an idealization in their exterior paint design. While maintaining a strong presence of a military, and often attracting recruits by means of the economic advantage of education and employment, the city is not one that has seen armed conflict for a long time now.

The drive for economic improvement is related perhaps to the thrust to become educated, and the desire to see one's children better educated than oneself so they have an advantage in the marketplace ahead. Schools in Vietnam are often crowded, with generally large classes, sometimes with two different sessions for different enrollments, a morning session from 7-12 and an afternoon enrollment from 1-5. In addition, the number of evening classes offered by private teachers and tutors, as well as institutes, academies, and such is protean. Walking by the ILA, or the VietMy Association, or Titan Education buildings at 8 pm is to see the upwardly hopeful parents awaiting their children's release from these enrichments.

Of course many of these enrichments are merely core capabilities like English, math and science as well. While suburban parents in the west escort their kids to soccer or gymnastics or music, the after school hours here are crammed with added study sessions in languages and STEM content.
These drives and desires carry over into times when we might rather they did not, such as Sunday mornings, when we would prefer that families were together and attending church services, and of course Monday evenings when we'd encourage families to strengthen their bonds with each other.
I think the challenge for families in this case, or individuals, is in understanding truly the ultimate costs, rather than just the marginal costs. With a bias towards seeking economic improvement, or educational benefit, or even peace and social harmony, we make most decisions to seek these things based only on the added incremental cost, the marginal cost- be that a couple of more hours of work at night, an extra class for an hour on Sunday morning, or an added social imposition of control to preserve peace. But in making these kinds of choices we often undervalue the alternatives, things which might also be strong values, but less urgent and more easily deferred to another time, or just relegated to someone else's duty.
What is the true value of a few hours each week for family time in the evenings? What kind of difference does it make for a father to hold and play with his children each day? How would one's life be different if one were together with one's family in church each Sunday? What kind of human values would develop if allowed to gather for social action without the need to register content details and the ID card numbers of each participant whether foreign or domestic? These are questions oft forgotten or left unanswered in the rush of humanity towards the elusive goals of a better more secure economic life, higher education and urban tranquility.
We are heartened however by the number of bright young single adults who are seeing the difference that a balance between these dominant drivers in society can make. They are bravely swimming against the stream in taking time to worship, time to serve, and time to integrate spirituality amid the press of the corporal concerns. The recent YSA conference in Hanoi centered around the theme that "Your Story Begins at Home" and helped many of them see the relationships with parents, siblings and friends as the starting point for happiness in the story they are writing to include a spouse, children and grandchildren. The inter-connectedness of choices in small and simple things now and the state of their lives decades from now became more clear as they heard the story of others further along the path, like Elder and Sister Peter Meurs, from the Asia Area Presidency.

Though we are not totally sure whether they come for the fruit and home-made cookies, or the chance to discuss the topics from the institute courses on preparing for an eternal and glorious marriage, we are grateful to welcome a varied group of these young people to our home on Sunday evenings. Even when the topic is as grave as how to confront and overcome problems like pornography, they seem eager to listen, ask insightful and probing questions, and linger after to visit. (And they are always keen to clean up the kitchen and such before they leave!)

We aren't going to turn the tide of Vietnamese society away from its yearning for a better economic future, nor will we have much impact on the private enrichment educational industry here through our branch-builder's English sessions, but we think there are a growing number of wondereful young Latter-day Saints who are seeing that fulfillment and joy in life is not measured in the size of a bank account, or the score on your IELTS exam. It is however found in the peace of mind and heart that comes from relationships made pure by the Atonement of Jesus Christ

While we are sleeping...

                                 

Things happen when we aren't looking. When our eyes close at night, the world of life, the work of growth, the works of God (and in fact, half or more of God's creatures) go on living. I recall some time ago seeing a planting guide for a "night garden" made up of plants that flowered at night, and thus were particularly prone to fragrances and other means to attract night-active insects or other means of pollenation in the dark. I didn't undertake the create such a garden, but one plant which might well fit is this succulent that is now quite prevalent here in Vietnam as it produces a marketable fruit. Hylocereus undatus has many common names in a host of languages, from skogskactus in Swedish to Thang Long in Vietnamese. It is thought to have originated in the Americas, and I don't think was widely cultivated in Vietnam before 1975, as I certainly didn't ever see any of it's fruits in the markets then, but it is now widely available in the markets, almost year round, and has even reached the  point where it is a staple on the airline food offerings regionally.

The blossoms begin with yellow streamers that open at night into a white petaled flower that then produces the pear-shaped fruit with a watermelon like texture and myriad small black seeds scattered throughout the fruit. The flesh is usually white, but recently a crimson-fleshed cultivar has appeared which is slightly sweeter and hence commands a higher price. But the most notable feature, and the reason that one would have noticed and remembered them from 1975, is that when ripe the fruits are a hot-pink color that stands out strikingly for the fruit-seller. Cannot be ignored or missed! The efforts of the local growers in Vietnam would lead me to believe that they are seeking access to the US markets, so this odd-looking fruit may find a place among other other imports like mangos and papaya. Then what began with flies and other night insects on a white flower will be evident to all. 

                                     

                                      

In getting to and from Asia, there is often some night travel involved. Or at least it seems, given the lengths of time involved, that a night should have been in there somewhere! Even within Asia, overnight travel is often preferred due to the lower fares. Our group of 40+ who recently attended the Manila temple mostly took the overnight option, and Elder D, pictured below, bid his doting and supportive, though sorrowful parents, good bye near midnight, on his way to the Manila mission training center. So we go too sleep with our mind and body in one country, and wake up in a totally different environment. Perhaps that is the miracle we will experience with death one day.

                              

The miracle of conversion also seems to happen when we are not looking at times. We do not "cause" it in any sense, we only marvel when peace is spoken in the quiet moments of reflection, sometimes between wakefulness and drowsiness. Then like Oliver Cowdery, we are bid to cast our mind upon that night when we must answer "yes" to the query "Did not I speak peace to thy heart?" The transition from one resistant to the entreaties to believe, obey or follow is often a "miracle of the night" when we are not looking. 

At times, we stumble upon those whom the weathering and softening of age and experience are preparing for the truths that will change the course of their eternities. Sometimes these are the days and nights spend soldiering, serving on a battle's front that is anything but figurative. And sometimes the scars left in the ground are minimal in comparison to the scars left upon the souls of those who fought, or just witnessed. They stand in silence aside, sometimes without hope of repair, ever. But the Master is so often silently working when we are not looking, when we are sleeping. With time, with gentle tugs upon the heart strings that seemingly were knotted beyond hope of unraveling, he gradually pulls a bit here, snips another bit there, and hearts are softened, the seeds planted, and the soul once tattered and gnarled is made new again. In a country that has known so much  of war for so many centuries, it is endlessly comforting to know of a Savior whose balm heals endlessly and without adverse side-effect. To receive beauty for ashes, as Isaiah said, is the promise of His plan, and it is working in the lives of many souls here, so often, when we are not looking. 

But when we find them, where the miracle is ready to happen, where the seed of the Word is ready to spring forth, we know true joy.

Other comparisons could also be made. Physical growth primarily occurs at night. We put to bed a toddler, and they wake up an adolescent. A sapling retires for the night and they awaken a full grown tree, a teen turned into a young man or a young woman, exceeding so often their parent's in height, and to some points of view (often their own) in knowledge and wisdom. Some of the latter no doubt stems from the love of learning (or the external pressure for learning at times) that keeps their eyes glued to the page (or the screen) longer than older eyes can endure. Knowledge too then, is also captured so often in the late night and wee morning hours, while others slumber.

                              

So it has been for us. We turned our hearts to the work here long ago, but so much happened when we were not looking, when as it were, we stood at the gate whilst inside the garden the agony of so much work was being done in the night, the times of trial, of suffering, of deprivation. Our efforts then were weak to do much, and perhaps now are not much more. But yet, working with priesthood keys, we do see the miracles coming, as the dawn of light and truth spreads over Southeast Asia. It is such a different place than it was 40 or 50 years ago, or even 20 years ago when the gospel was still just getting a foothold in Thailand, and barely starting to be preached in Cambodia. But much has been happening here while we were sleeping. The work of the Master has not slackened at all, but has been silently going forward in every preparatory phase, in the softening of the ground, the placement of the arbors, the supports that will sustain growth and hold up the fruits as they, now long since pollenated in that night before, mature and are laid up in store for a bounteous future. 

This fellow has likewise come into our lives while we were aslumber, another miraculous blessing that is poured out to bless our lives and others, while we were not looking. His days are the obverse of ours, half a world away, so when we awake, we will rejoice again to know that the Master never slumbers nor sleeps in his efforts to pour out blessings upon his children on earth.