March 13, 2016...  Continued

Just got home from Camile (the husband), Luvof (wife) and their son Rusland, who is about 22. They are members the Missionaries wanted us to meet. They are thinking of going through the temple. They live in a little wooden home where you have to duck to go in the door. The home is on about a 15 degree grade, very small. They are remodeling their other home. They were so warm and welcoming. They gave us some homemade juice and a bowl of candy. I thought, this is great, I can handle this. Elder Oldham’s juice was sliding slightly down the table. Then she brought in a fried egg for everyone. I guess you would call it over easy and a bowl of pickled vegetables from their garden. Then she came in with some homemade salsa and put it on the eggs. I knew I was in trouble. This was going to be the first trial of my faith. I managed to eat a little of it. Camile wanted to know what was wrong with my appetite. I told him that we ate dinner before we came and I was full. He made the Elders promise to tell us well before we came next time so I would be able to eat. I’m not sure if it is more disrespectful to turn down the food or start gagging. I wish I didn’t hate vegetables so much. She also made us some hot chocolate that was yummy.

Each of them and their son told us how they found the gospel. It was so touching. Camile had had an accident and fell a great distance and broke the bones in 75% of his body.  He was in a coma and they didn’t think he would live. Luvof kept talking to him and praying for him. She said while she talked to him he would have tears coming out of his eyes.  But he slowly got better. He is truly a miracle. He was raised a Muslim but she turned him to Christianity.

Then the Elders asked us to tell them how we got our testimony. So we did. Then they asked us to tell about how we felt to be sealed in the temple. We could feel the spirit so strong in that little home. They are a great family, so humble and loving. We got lots of hugs when it was time to go.

Elder Oldham gently chastised me for not eating the meal. I promised him that even though I hated vegetables I’d try to do better. Pray mightily for my taste buds to die or become more tolerant.

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