My Friends Mike and Angela: Part 1: Missouri

I was going to wait until February to tell this story so that it would be on the one year anniversary of the blessed event, but I can't wait that long. (I am severely impatient when it comes to things like this.)This story is important to me. It strengthened my testimony beyond measure. It's also a long story so I will share it in two parts. It's not flowery or poetic, but it's simple and lovely.

Almost one year ago I was living in Blue Springs, MO. My missionary companion and I were working hard to teach people about the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. One man that we worked with had been a member of the LDS church but had started working Sundays and eventually just stopped coming even when he could. Fortunately, he started coming back with the help of his home teachers, and he didn't just come back slowly or lazily. He came back with a fire. He wanted to spread the happiness he had with everyone. His name is Mike. This takes us to a cold night in February a month or so since he had returned to church. The three of us were driving through an apartment complex, 15 or so buildings each about 3 stories tall, when we saw a man walking alone in the dark heavy night. Mike waved at him and he waved back. Immediately, Mike shouted at me to stop the car and park. I asked him why and this dialogue followed:

Me: Why? What's wrong?
Mike: He waved back! He must be nice. We need to talk to him about the gospel. NOW!

Me: Friend, people wave at us all the time, but they usually don't want to hear about the church...

Mike: No, Elder Hayter, we need to talk to him. 

Me: OK, Friend. 

We proceeded to park and awkwardly chased down this man who had walked another 50 meters down the road. Unfortunately, I was right. He wasn't terribly interested in what we had to say. The good news is that the Lord had inspired my friend for a reason. As we were slipping over the ice headed back to the warm confines of the car we saw a lady and her daughter walking towards their apartment. I recognized her. We had talked with her a month previous and she hadn't expressed much interest. Tonight was different. We had only talked for a couple of minutes when her daughter asked if we wanted some hot chocolate. So three men working for the Lord and a single mother and her wonderful daughter started a friendship that would have eternal consequences. She was curious and open-minded. This lady was going to change my life. Her name was Angela.

Rain: Kansas

Sometimes it rains. But not all rain is the same. Sometimes dark monstrous storms gather around and the outcome seems bleak. The rain is hard and cold. It stings and bites.The lightning is jagged and lights the sky with a cruel glow. Other times a drizzle so fine it almost seems like a mist envelopes spreading a quiet melancholy until the sun banishes it with brilliant rays. My favorite rain is Kansas rain. Bright gray thunderclouds swoop in and unleash buckets of happy drops that dance in the streets, and when that happens I only have one option. I have to dance with them. The slow rumbling thunder is our music. The dance steps are light. Bare feet perform each step elated to be free. We leap about in the roads that are now rivers. I see the bright red cardinal who lives across the street and I hear him calling to me. We are old friends. He wakes me up each morning with his care-free warbling and I answer his call with a whistle of my own. Now in the rain he is a brilliant speck of red against the dove gray clouds. We whistle and dance together. Five minutes later the rain has stopped. The sun is back, and I am wet. But, I am happy.
I wonder if life is a lot like the different storms. Sometimes we are pelted with cold icy trials that gnaw at our defenses until we are left huddled and shivering. Other times they weigh upon us like the mist. It seems infinite and we can't see if the end is near let alone the end of our own noses. I figure that the way we view our storms depends on our attitude. I forget that sometimes and my trials seem pretty big and menacing or endless and gray. Tonight, however, I was able to sit down with a couple of my best friends who reminded me that my storms don't have to be that way. The Lord has a perfect plan. I know this. I testified of it for two years. I just forgot. I stopped to evaluate just how grande this storm really is and because the Lord is part of that perspective this time the clouds aren't so black. In fact, I can see the purple painted in. The grays are warmer. The drops aren't so cold and they even have an awkward little shuffle going on. I can't see my friend, the cardinal, but I can hear his song. It's not the happiest storm, but I think I can do that awkward shuffle the raindrops are teaching me and maybe tomorrow I will dance.

Best Be Mindin': Kansas and other assorted states and countries

 I love meeting new people. It's one of my favorite things to do, actually, but I was never blessed with the social capacity of easily interacting with large groups of people at once. I get sort of lost in the mire of gossip and conversation and then it just becomes background noise like the sound of sirens in Kansas City or the trains in Mulvane. Every once in while some well-meaning soul will come and interrupt my isolated reverie and bring my thoughts careening back into the present. I am grateful for these people. They tend to be good listeners. I like to listen and I love to be heard. I am not as dull and obtuse as I look, and I have discovered that most people are that way. You can gain much from listening. I am striving to be a better listener with the hope that someone will later return the favor. Do you think that big ears might not be such a bad thing? I reckon so.

"The greatest compliment that was ever paid me was when one asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer."

— Henry David Thoreau

Introductions: Utah

I figure I should introduce myself properly. My name is Jens, but I have been granted many appellations in my lifetime. My favorites; Elder, Jensie, J, and Hayterade (due to my wonderful last name and a friend named Brittany.) You can just call me Jens.

I like swimming, reading, people-watching, and Kansas, though perhaps not in that order. The greatest treasure I have is the knowledge and relationship I have with my Savior. I don't know exactly where I would be without His guidance, but the thought comes to mind of a dreary wet barrel and the smell of misery. 

I don't have the wit of my dear friend Sarah J. I lack the sheer brilliance that Meggie has. I'm not practical like Sydnie Juniper, and I am not nearly as ambitious or hard-working as Kim. Still, my thoughts get a little bit cramped in the recesses of my mind, and they start complaining. I reckon things might clear up a bit if I let them go.