Email from December 3, 2012:
"I asked Elder Nwachukwu and Macaulay for a priesthood blessing. As they laid their hands on me, I was surprised to hear some of the blessings from my patriarchal blessing re-iterated. It was kind of like a reminder of my true purpose. I was promised that, 'by this time tomorrow, you will see it as a new day, and will feel much better.' I knew it was true."
Dear Family and Friends,
I'm sorry I missed the last two weeks of emailing. The first week the internet was down and the second last week the power was out all day Monday. I'll do my best to catch you up.
First off, Mom, I got the packages and a TON of letters on Nov 14th, it was awesome! I felt kind of bad because all the mail at our district meeting was for me. But then again, I didn't feel too bad. Except, I swear every time I get letters, as soon as we step in the door of our apartment at night, the power goes out. Haha It was nice to get the drawings from the kids and all the drink mix! Dad I got your maps on Nov. 20th, and Mom I love the picture of Jesus and the little black child.
Two weeks ago was the last week of our sub, so almost all the food was gone and nobody had any money left. Except for Elder Doggett because he prepared. Our water line also broke that week, so it was some week. We went out and bought a ton of water sachets for all our water supply. Try bathing with those, it’s a joy. But they eventually fixed the line and brought us a new fridge! I was excited because the old one was from like 1935, seriously, and it was tiny.
That Saturday we had the opportunity to dig a grave for one of the members who recently passed. He was a very renowned man, a professor, who studied in Cambridge as a scholar, and all these other colleges over the world. He was the stake patriarch, and he was 74 years old. He passed two days after we arrived in the area. So as an Elder's Quorum, the members went to the house and dug the grave in the side lot. Everyone here buries their loved ones on the family property, and they encase the caskets in really nice stone and cement work. It was a difficult experience though, because, as an American among a bunch of Africans, they think you're lazy, you're weak, and you don't know how to work. Before we even began, they were insinuating that 'Obruni' didn't know how to use tools. [They] even asked me if I had ever used a shovel. As I got down into the hole to break the ground with the pickaxe, they all freaked out, saying I was swinging too hard, and, "we don't want you to hurt yourself." Then they just laughed and laughed and took the axe from me, having someone else work. But during that escapade, what frequently came back to my mind was the blessing I was given as I was set apart as a missionary. I was blessed that I would be able to quickly forgive those who trespass against me. It takes a lot of patience.
So the next week was a blast. Elder Nwoko fell sick with some stomach virus on Tuesday and Elder Doggett caught himself a nice, big dose of malaria. We were on splits on Tuesday and I came home to find Elder Nwoko dying on his bed. Then early Wednesday morning, I woke up with severe stomach pain, and visited the toilet most of the night. When morning came, I was seriously rendered utterly useless. I couldn't do a thing, and I had no appetite. I called Sister Shulz and told her I had all the symptoms of malaria, but she just told me to drink more water and take paracetamol (ibuprofen), so Elder Nwachukwu and Macaulay went to get us drugs. As I lay in bed trying to sleep, I couldn’t lay still because my entire body, bones and muscles, were aching. I had extreme pain in my lower back and ribs, and I couldn't breathe straight. I was hyperventilating, so that contributed to my already-existent headache. I had a high fever, and my bowels were going about their own business without my consent, haha. Lying in bed, I was kind of delirious, I remember mumbling some very strange things. It all hit me really, really fast. In my subconscious-strange state, I asked Elder Nwachukwu and Macaulay for a priesthood blessing. As they laid their hands on me, I was surprised to hear some of the blessings from my patriarchal blessing re-iterated. It was kind of like a reminder of my true purpose. I was promised that, "by this time tomorrow, you will see it as a new day, and will feel much better." I knew it was true. So I took some Ibuprofen and retired to my bed, and successfully found sleep. When I woke a few hours later, I felt so much better. Even then, my fever was receding, and I could breathe again. And the next day, I was feeling almost ready to proselyte again, while Elder Nwoko was still suffering his symptoms. I was amazed at how fast I was healed. And that's just it: I didn't get better, I was healed. For the next 4 days, Elder Nwoko couldn't eat, or walk, or do anything, so I just studied. Having the faith that you can be healed through the power of the priesthood is just as important as having faith to heal. I know the priesthood is powerful.
Getting back on our feet from all that sickness in
terms of the work has been very hard. We lost a lot of energy that week, both
mental and physical. This area is actually really hard. The people here aren't
really all that serious. Nobody answers their phone. And people have a serious
problem with keeping their word. They will tell you they'll be somewhere, or
where you can meet them at a certain time, and people will over half the time
ditch you. Even if you ask them four times, "Are you sure you'll be
there?" they'll say yes and then they won't show. And people leave for
weeks on end. Some of our promising investigators have been gone for 3 weeks. I
don’t know, they just travel, it's like they hate their homes. So everyone left
in town are just a bunch of "menti brofo"'s as we call them. It means
'I don't understand English' in Fante. Elder Nwoko and I don't really know
Fante, he was in western region until now, which is full of rich, educated
people. He's never even served in a village. The work is very slow right now. All in all, I can only draw strength from
prayer and the scriptures. Mosiah 24:15 has helped me a lot. I'm still trying
to get my body to adjust to the new environment, but it's really taking some
major time. I
don't want to be too negative, but I haven't had a lot of good experiences
recently, but I'm still trying. I know this Church is true, and I know that I'm
here for a reason. I can do this, I just have to have patience. So far, that's
about all the Lord has been teaching me. Patience, patience, patience. The hard
part is: it takes patience to learn patience. Haha.I'm sorry I missed the last two weeks of emailing. The first week the internet was down and the second last week the power was out all day Monday. I'll do my best to catch you up.
First off, Mom, I got the packages and a TON of letters on Nov 14th, it was awesome! I felt kind of bad because all the mail at our district meeting was for me. But then again, I didn't feel too bad. Except, I swear every time I get letters, as soon as we step in the door of our apartment at night, the power goes out. Haha It was nice to get the drawings from the kids and all the drink mix! Dad I got your maps on Nov. 20th, and Mom I love the picture of Jesus and the little black child.
Two weeks ago was the last week of our sub, so almost all the food was gone and nobody had any money left. Except for Elder Doggett because he prepared. Our water line also broke that week, so it was some week. We went out and bought a ton of water sachets for all our water supply. Try bathing with those, it’s a joy. But they eventually fixed the line and brought us a new fridge! I was excited because the old one was from like 1935, seriously, and it was tiny.
That Saturday we had the opportunity to dig a grave for one of the members who recently passed. He was a very renowned man, a professor, who studied in Cambridge as a scholar, and all these other colleges over the world. He was the stake patriarch, and he was 74 years old. He passed two days after we arrived in the area. So as an Elder's Quorum, the members went to the house and dug the grave in the side lot. Everyone here buries their loved ones on the family property, and they encase the caskets in really nice stone and cement work. It was a difficult experience though, because, as an American among a bunch of Africans, they think you're lazy, you're weak, and you don't know how to work. Before we even began, they were insinuating that 'Obruni' didn't know how to use tools. [They] even asked me if I had ever used a shovel. As I got down into the hole to break the ground with the pickaxe, they all freaked out, saying I was swinging too hard, and, "we don't want you to hurt yourself." Then they just laughed and laughed and took the axe from me, having someone else work. But during that escapade, what frequently came back to my mind was the blessing I was given as I was set apart as a missionary. I was blessed that I would be able to quickly forgive those who trespass against me. It takes a lot of patience.
So the next week was a blast. Elder Nwoko fell sick with some stomach virus on Tuesday and Elder Doggett caught himself a nice, big dose of malaria. We were on splits on Tuesday and I came home to find Elder Nwoko dying on his bed. Then early Wednesday morning, I woke up with severe stomach pain, and visited the toilet most of the night. When morning came, I was seriously rendered utterly useless. I couldn't do a thing, and I had no appetite. I called Sister Shulz and told her I had all the symptoms of malaria, but she just told me to drink more water and take paracetamol (ibuprofen), so Elder Nwachukwu and Macaulay went to get us drugs. As I lay in bed trying to sleep, I couldn’t lay still because my entire body, bones and muscles, were aching. I had extreme pain in my lower back and ribs, and I couldn't breathe straight. I was hyperventilating, so that contributed to my already-existent headache. I had a high fever, and my bowels were going about their own business without my consent, haha. Lying in bed, I was kind of delirious, I remember mumbling some very strange things. It all hit me really, really fast. In my subconscious-strange state, I asked Elder Nwachukwu and Macaulay for a priesthood blessing. As they laid their hands on me, I was surprised to hear some of the blessings from my patriarchal blessing re-iterated. It was kind of like a reminder of my true purpose. I was promised that, "by this time tomorrow, you will see it as a new day, and will feel much better." I knew it was true. So I took some Ibuprofen and retired to my bed, and successfully found sleep. When I woke a few hours later, I felt so much better. Even then, my fever was receding, and I could breathe again. And the next day, I was feeling almost ready to proselyte again, while Elder Nwoko was still suffering his symptoms. I was amazed at how fast I was healed. And that's just it: I didn't get better, I was healed. For the next 4 days, Elder Nwoko couldn't eat, or walk, or do anything, so I just studied. Having the faith that you can be healed through the power of the priesthood is just as important as having faith to heal. I know the priesthood is powerful.
Love,
Elder Clinton Doggett
P.S. People should write me more letters, since I can't understand Ebo or Pigeon (which the elders in my apartment speak), I would love to just write letters at night. And Mom, I could really use some more U.S. stamps. A pocket dictionary would be nice, too. If it's not too much trouble, right now I'm reading Jesus the Christ so it would be handy. And I'm sure I could find occasion for one most of my mission. Thanks!
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