Modern Medicine and Priesthood Blessings

Dear Mom, Dad & Jordan (and all others who will read),

      Let me re-cant the past few days in the life of a missionary, starting with the temporal.  Wednesday night we were whizzing off to our last appointment.  The redneck gene that I inherited from dad reared to the sight of a dead animal on the side of the road.  We quickly turned around to examine and find out what it was, and we discovered it to be a serval (a wild predator cat).  Its pelt was beautiful, like that of a leopard.  It is a little bigger than a house cat with a long tail, pointy ears, and stout nose.  My first thought was, “Let’s skin it!”

      So, with the cat in the boot (trunk), we whizzed home . . . (our last appointment was notthere).  As you know, we have a security guard who watches over the house and us at night.  His name is Nkosi-khona (meaning ‘the king has arrived’).  Upon seeing us pull the serval out of the boot he happily expressed his desire to eat it.  Well, I thought to myself, “I found this thing on the road.  I don’t know how long it has been dead . . . Should I eat it??  DEFINITELY!!”  So, I went to work and skinned the whole thing.  Nkosi-khona proceeded to chop it into segments as Elder Chathyoka prepared the braai (BBQ).  The three of us sat around the fire and shared the cat.

      Thursday night we were in a village called Nosita.  We were visiting a less active family who has four very vicious dogs.  Upon leaving, two members of the family went out to make sure the dogs were not around.  I left the house and stepped into the dark night when the two members nervously said one of the dogs was there.  This battle-hardened veteran slowly

approached the two members keeping his eyes in my direction, giving a low growl.  They grabbed him and franticly told me to get inside.  Almost in an instant I understood why, as the dog ripped itself from their grasp and charged at me.  In an attempt to kick it, it landed on my left leg and for a few seconds threw me down like a stuffed animal.  Finally the members came
and, after kicking it hard, the dog released from my leg and left.  We went inside and found ripped trousers and a bleeding leg.  For all the damage done, I was shocked to learn the dog had only one tooth . . . I have 24 and all I could do was kick it.  They cleaned out my wounds and I went home.

      Friday we decided to tell Sister Von Stetten about the bite.  She told us to go back and make sure the dog had rabies’s shots.  Saturday we went there and, to no surprise, it was not current with any shots.  This is Africa.  By this time, we have gotten a new mission president,

President Zachrison.  I counseled with him, and there were two factors that led to the decision to go to the emergency room: #1, the spiritual impression he had that I should go (keep in mind that he landed in Africa the night prior, has never seen me, and is only talking over the phone).  #2, the terrible infection that was brewing in the wounds.

      Since I’m from over seas and don’t have medical aid in this country the cost for me to receive treatment is tremendously high . . . around 4000 Rand (approximately $400 US).  So, the Branch President Freddy came with us to cover the expenses.  Boy, am I glad we went to the hospital.  The doctor did not like what he saw.  Based on the infection, deepness of the bites, and situation he said the dog was rabid.  He told me that; “should you have put off coming in to the hospital a few more days, there would have been no treatment able to help you.”  He mixed a giant cocktail of Rabie-gamma, Tetanus, and other drugs in a giant syringe and injected me.  I will now be starting a 14-day course of rabie’s treatment to counter act the rabie’s.  I am grateful for modern medicine and priesthood blessings.  Both played a vital role in preserving me.  Also, while at the hospital they discovered I have ring worm.  Not to serious, but funny that all those things are happening.

      So, amid all those physical set backs, they don’t compare to the spiritual challenges.  This area is not easy.  We have had to start from scratch.  No investigators, and there is nobody to teach.  We have to go out and find them all.  You remember last week I told you about the Zoto family?  Well, we don’t have contact with them right now.  We don’t know why; they won’t answer our calls, respond to texts, and they are not home when we go by.  It looks like the same situation as Oren . . . and it breaks my heart.  I think it’s the closest experience I can have at this age that compares to that of a parent and a way-ward child; or Heavenly Father and us.  But, despite all, I have learned to keep a positive attitude.  If we dwell and complain and sulk, our strength is sapped, our faith shrivels, and we are not effective in this work.

      I really have a great companion.  Elder Chathyoka is from Malawi.  He joined the church three-years-ago despite terrible opposition from his family.  His father is a pastor/founder of another church in Malawi called ‘Tree of Life.’  They have about five or six branches.  His father reacted terribly to him joining the church, as the church in Malawi is seen as a satanic cult.

      Well, because of Elder Chathyoka’s faithfulness, his sister also joined the church around the same time.  She recently got a call to serve a mission in Kenya.  But that is not the main point.  The main point is that last Monday Elder Chathyoka got a short email from his mom saying that the WHOLE FAMILY is getting baptized.  Who is in the whole family?  Mom, Dad, six other siblings, and five extended family members who currently live with them.  We didn’t know what to think because there was not much detail in the email.  So, he got permission to call home.  He spoke with his older brother and confirmed it was all true.  They will be baptized the 14^th of July.

      What a miracle, his prayers were heard by God.  Because of his service, I know that the Lord has blessed him.  As I continue in this work, my testimony of it deepens.  I know this work is true.  I wish I could give all my time, the rest of my life.  I cringe that I have only seven more months remaining.  My hand is still to the plow.

I love you,

          Elder Gold

Editor’s Note:

 

            When receiving Landon’s correspondence this week the above photos were viewed yet, for a few hours, I was unable to read the words on the highly pixilated images sent of his journal entry that told the story.  Just think of how imaginative my mind got as I tried to conjure up the details of the story upon looking at the sequence of photos.  Once again, worry didn’t seem to overtake my emotions but a calm and methodical process took control.  The natural mom would of course be worried and concerned with such images, so my only explanation is that the spirit has helped in the process.  Yes, the photos and story told are exciting, humorous and shocking at points, but what I find wonderful about this letter is written in the final paragraph.  Landon tells of his companion’s family, all 13 members who will soon be baptized.  As I compiled this post I started to ponder how wonderful and miraculous this truly is.  Here we have a man whose son joined a church that he and many others throughout their country views as a religious cult, which I’m sure has brought much mistrust and concern.  Not only did his son join but also a daughter around the same time, and both will be serving as full-time missionaries.  This man is a religious man, so much so that he is the founder of a church, and not just a small church.  His church is rather large with five or six branches.  So, then I think about this being his livelihood and how he not only is providing for eight family members but another five extended family members living with he and his wife as well.  This man of faith has so many people in his household who depend on him for support both temporally and spiritually.  Imagine:  he has learned that the church his two children have joined is the restored Church of Jesus Christ and, through his own prayers and humility, gains a testimony of its truthfulness.  Now what?  Such courage I cannot fathom.  He now will leave the church he has built, the flock he has lead and the financial security he has created, and will be numbered among the saints…one of millions to follow the Saviors teachings and to join the greatest volunteer army this world has known.  Why would such a person give up so much you might ask?  Well, he truly knows that what he has been given is priceless above rubies by which there shall unfold mysteries of an eternal degree . . . for now he understands.