Vida Thayle

Iban and Malay name badges

District Meeting

Grandma, Nenek yang saya sayang,

My cheerleader, friend, and biggest support,

I will miss you. And I won't forget my most recent memory of you, visiting you in Idaho Falls the first time we thought you were going to die, and you were so happy, excited, and proud of me for deciding to serve a mission. You asked me all about Singapore and Malaysia and I had no idea what to tell you but you were so excited anyway. You gave me such good advice. How many missions did you serve? 3? Thank you for being an example of righteousness in our family, for raising my dad to be the awesome dad he is, for loving my mom like she is your own daughter, and for raising 9 amazing kids, who are best friends, who I know would die for me. Because they're best friends, some of my best friends are my cousins. We really are a keluarga yang erat (tight family).

I love the way my dad put it in his email to me this week:

"Grandma Wynn died shortly after noon today, Wednesday Nov. 20.  As there is no easy way to say it, I thought I would just put it out there just like that.  Actually that's the way Grandma Wynn would have wanted it.  I used the word "died" because she didn't like to say or hear "passed-on".  I know that sounds a little weird, but that's how she felt.  I have to laugh a little when I think about it.  She said she understood that people felt they were softening the blow a little by using words like "passed" or "passed-away" or "passed-on", but she said that, in fact, they were dead.  She told me specifically not to refer to her as "passed' or anything like that, but to say she had died.  So there you have it."

That is so you. That's me too. I always have to catch myself here, the word for "to die" is "mati," but everyone says "meninggal" (to pass away) here. Dad also told me you died of a ruptured thoracic aneurysm, I know you're proud of the fact that I know what that means because I'm an aspiring nurse. Man, our family is so weird when it comes to death. In Cloe's email, she said, "I like that our family is slightly unorthodox when it comes to handling death." I hope it didn't hurt when you died. I'm excited to see you again when you were young. You were always beautiful, but man, I saw your pictures from high school and you were a babe. I love you, I know you'll always be with me as I try to teach the people here. I know you'll be my guardian angel to guide and protect me, not just in the kampungs of Malaysia but anywhere else I go for the rest of my life.

Anyway, for the rest of you, kirim salam.

It was Thursday here when I got the call from President Mains that my grandma died. Sister LeBaron and I panicked a little when we saw his name on our handfone because he's the mission president. He's a busy, important man. Sister LeBaron answered, said "Oh Sister Wynn? Yes she's right here." and handed me the phone. He said, "Sister Wynn, I have some sad news. Your father--"

my stomach clenched

"--informed me today that your grandmother died."

Okay, worst way to start a sentence ever, haha. But I told him, "It's okay, she can be my companion here always." I thanked him for calling me. It must be hard to be a mission president and mission president's wife. When your missionaries (all 170 of them) hurt, you hurt. I know they pray and worry and think about us all the time. I'm really fortunate that it wasn't sudden news. It was also Sister LeBaron's birthday that day, so I didn't want to ruin it by crying or being sad, haha.

I can't even take credit for the line about grandma being my companion always, I first heard it from an Elder in my district here. On the trip over to Singapore, he told Sister LeBaron and I that a couple weeks before he got his mission call, his little brother died. And he said, "It's okay, he can always be my companion now," as he showed us pictures of him.

I keep learning about these daunting personal challenges other missionaries have, and they're here because all they want to do is serve God. They turn outward and serve others instead of worrying about themselves or their families. Some of the stories of these missionaries would bring you to tears.

Last Monday, Sister LeBaron and I spent our P-Day figuring out our bicycle situation. Sister Lea, a really awesome Filipina lady from the Chinese group picked us up and drove us to Elder Snyder's and Elder Scheutz's apartment so we could pick up Elder Wayment's extra bike for Sister LeBaron to use. They got their white shirts dirty, and we got oil and dirt all over the inside of Lea's van. I already had Sister Guzman's bike in a box for me to use. Lea took us to a bike shop to memperbaiki these bikes, but we left after they tuned them up because one of the guys kept saying I needed a new chain. I said it should be fine because it was only in a box for a month and to put more oil on it. He kept pushing me to buy a new chain, and I didn't really trust him so I told him I'd just buy a chain from the bike shop in Lutong because I'm friends with them. You know you kind of have a grasp on the language when you can be a little sassy in that language.

We then drove over to the other Elders' house to pick up the key for the lock on Elder Wayment's bike, and they gave us butter paus that they made because the elders are obsessed with butter paus and learned how to make them. Sister LeBaron and I told Lea that we were pretty much useless because the elders learned how to cook for themselves and can fix their own bicycles.

The next day, we walked our bikes to the bike shop by our house, and lo and behold, they told us I didn't need a new chain (that saved me about 80 ringit). One of the employees poured oil on the chain I already had and loosened each link individually, taking great care to do so. Yes I will relate this to missionary work: Sometimes we look at people and say, "They're broken. Why should we take the time to care about them?" when sometimes they just need love. So no matter how many Iban tattoos they have, how many teeth they're missing, how hardened their faces are, we need to give everyone love.

Lately, I've been trying to look at people, not as they are, but as they can become. I imagine everyone wearing white, entering the waters of baptism, and wearing white, being sealed to their families forever. It's really helped me grow in love for all of the people, even the men that cat call us as we bike by.

On Sister LeBaron's birthday, I wrote her a nice little letter and gave her some candy, since I'm a lot better at expressing love through writing instead of words, like normal people. I wrote, "In the words of Taylor Swift: I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22. Everything will be alright if you keep next to you (because we're companions and it's against the rules to be separated). Everything will be alright if, we just keep proselyting like we're 22."

And it occurred to me a couple weeks ago that I can understand what people are saying when they speak Malay (Iban, belum fasih still). I gave a talk yesterday in church, and a lot of people told me I was pandai bahasa Melayu (good at the language). And when people say things like that here, they mean it. It's not like in America where if you train wreck, people still tell you you did a good job, haha.

Miracle of the week: We met a really sweet lady named Melissa, who was at our investigator's house (Julia and Dawi) because Julia told her we were coming to teach them. Melissa listened to our lesson, and after we gave her a Book of Mormon, she said, "So when can I get baptized? Can I get baptized on the same day as my friends?" Again, my jaw dropped. Sister LeBaron and I scrambled to redo our schedule so we could teach Melissa a lot this week and next week. Yesterday, we went over to her house, and Julia explained everything as if she were already a member of the church. She would explain things like, "Well you can know this book is true if you pray about it, because the Holy Ghost will let you know through how you feel." Sister LeBaron and I almost said, "Yeah, Julia, you just teach the whole lesson." Julia is basically a missionary, and she isn't even baptized yet.

Something else I've been thinking about this week is how the Atonement of Jesus Christ fixes everything that's unfair about life. Sister LeBaron and I come from good families, but we've had trials that have shaped us. People have been unkind to us, in high school and in college. I was thinking, grandparents are supposed to die. Dads and brothers aren't. Young missionaries aren't supposed to die on their missions. But it's okay because Christ already took care of everything that will ever hurt us. I read Romans 5 this morning.

Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope at the glory of God.

And not only so, we glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience.
And patience experience, and experience, hope.

Last week, I also wanted to share Hebrews 6:19 about hope.

Hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.

And John 16:22. Your joy, NO MAN taketh from you.

Even when people steal your bike, even when your grandma, your best friend dies.

I love being a missionary, I love you all.

Sampai salam,
Sister Wynn