LEARNING IN ADVERSITY

Imagine yourself for a moment as an 18-year old boy, named Pahulu.  You have experienced debilitating pain in every step for months, yet the doctors have no idea what is causing the pain.  You have managed to get a pair of crutches, even though they are few and far between in this country.  That helps you get around the house, but you don’t have the endurance for much more than that.

Oh, and you’re not living with your own family.  Your parents have thrown you out of your family home, because you joined the Mormon Church.  You have been taken in by Lopeti and Luseane, a generous young couple who have no children of their own, but who share their home with you and six other young adult men whose circumstances are not so different from your own.  You get wonderful love and support from everyone around your, yet your heart longs for your own family.

You long for them, but your own family feels only animosity towards you.  When Lopeti informs your parents of your undiagnosed, painful condition, their reaction is to go to the family cemetery and dig your grave.  Then when you do not die in a short time, the family turns to prayer – praying that you will suffer greatly, because of your choice of religion.  Lopeti chides your parents:  “Where is your faith?  Why do you not hope for your son to be healed?”  Your parents have no answer.  But you hang on to Lopeti’s promise to your parents: “I will stand by him and support him with all my heart no matter what happens.”

This house is typical of most Tongan homes. 

Lopeti and Luseane both work long hours for meager pay, and you try to be as independent as you can, though you know you take a lot of their time.  You watch the other young men in Lopeti’s and Luseane’s home.  Joseph rises before dawn each morning to cook food to sell, so he can finance a full-time mission for the Church.  The others, David, Jeffry, Liva, Maikolo and Ensini, do what they can to bring in some money to help defray the cost of their meals.  Lopeti and Luseane do not expect rent; this home is for all nine people, as long as it is needed.  Lopeti says, “It’s hard to be a father,” and your mind completes the sentence:  “especially trying to be a father to sons who have already been raised by someone else.”  Yes, when something gets broken in the house, all of you still stiffen in expectations of being beaten, but Luseane simply says, “Let’s get a broom and clean it up.”  You hear Lopeti say frequently that “hands are for blessing, not beating,” but it’s going to take a while longer to stop being fearful when accidents happen.  Not being beaten, not being blamed when things go wrong, is still a new experience for all of you.

The Mormon chapels in Tonga are modest, but sturdy. 

Because you don’t want to be discouraged by the malice of your birth family, you have turned off your cell phone and given it to Lopeti.  Better to have no contact than negative contact, at least for now.  Perhaps their hearts will soften in time.  And Lopeti strengthens you many times a day, reminding you to seek solace in prayer, to remain faithful and strong in the face of this adversity, to forgive your family for their ill will towards you and try to feel only love for them.  You receive a priesthood blessing at the hands of a senior missionary, which provides comfort and strength, if not healing.  Now you can find peace even in pain, because you know in your heart that you are safe here, you are protected and loved, and you will be the better for this experience.  So you smile, and your face is an expression of calm assurance, your demeanor one of acceptance and endurance.

You know that Lopeti is a man of God, for he has shared with you a dream he had some years ago.  His father also opposed Lopeti’s choice to join the Mormon Church, and died a few years before Lopeti served a mission.  In the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, Lopeti dreamed he saw his father dressed in rags and in prison. His father pleaded with him to free him:  “Only you have the power and authority to free me.”  After a long conversation with the President of the missionary training center, Lopeti went to the Provo temple and did vicarious work for his deceased father, to provide him the opportunity to choose, in the next life, which path to take.  A few nights later Lopeti dreamed of his father again, but this time his father was dressed all in white, and had tears of joy in his eyes as he held his arms out to his son, saying “thank you, thank you.”  That experience helped Lopeti build his life around serving others.  Not for the first time, you close your eyes in gratitude for Lopeti and Luseane, realizing how blessed you are to be the object of their service.  You echo the words of Lopeti’s father:  “Thank you, thank you.”

Lopeti, Luseane, with Pahulu (seated) and two of the other young men in their home. 

You smile as you think of the way Lopeti and Luseane have applied one particular scripture in their lives:  “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”  (See Matthew 25:40.) And you hope you will be healed, so that you can serve in the same way that these two wonderful people do.  You hear Lopeti’s words echo in your ears: “When you see someone in need, you’ll feel the Spirit prompt you.  That may be Christ right there, waiting for you to serve Him.”  And you understand more fully how to be Christlike, because you see it around you every day.

FAREWELLS AND MIRACLES

We have had the pleasure of working with Elder and Sister Sanders, a senior missionary couple who accepted a humanitarian assignment here in Tonga.  Last March, we were a bit amazed (but not really surprised) when these two volunteered to take on a second assignment, that of inspecting, supplying and maintaining the 50+ little buildings called missionary quarters, where the young missionaries live here.  

Elder Sanders always wanted to get up-close and personal.
 Here he is inspecting a village water tank.

Sister Sanders knew better than to try to climb the
water tank ladder in a long skirt!

Well, the bad news is that Elder Sanders has developed some serious medical issues, and they have been sent home to Washington State.  There is a hole in our hearts, but we know that because of the events that have happened in the last week, the Lord has more in mind for this fine man and his wonderful wife.

Because of the limited medical care here in Tonga, the area supervisors flew Elder and Sister Sanders to New Zealand for a hospital stay and screening, to diagnose his trouble.  Our mission nurse, Sister Johnston, had been trying to get Elder Sanders to New Zealand for weeks, but he kept postponing the trip because of this project or that.  But when Elder Johnston got an abscess that would not respond to antibiotics, he was put on an urgent evacuation to New Zealand, and the mission president told Elder Sanders (and his wife) to go, too.  Tickets were purchased Friday evening for the flight to Auckland Saturday morning.

One of their few days off, at the beach.

While waiting in the airport in Tonga, the four missionaries met an LDS American couple who explained they had brought their adopted child, Tongan by birth, to meet his birth mother and experience some of the culture that was his heritage.  A pleasant conversation ensued, then everyone got on the plane and thought nothing more of the encounter.  They should have.

Arriving late in the evening, the missionaries decided to wait until morning to arrange treatment.  The next morning they found themselves at a nearby hospital emergency room, and the admitting doctor tried to explain that patients were not admitted on Sundays.  Then the supervising doctor came in to see what was going on.  The supervisor was, of course, the man the missionaries had met in the airport.  Turns out he works at three different hospitals, and “just happened” to be on duty at this particular hospital that morning.  Both men were quickly screened, and Elder Sanders was admitted as an inpatient. Miracle #1: check.

That evening, Elder Johnston found his abscess had begun draining.  This abscess, which had been in danger of going systemic and causing serious bodily harm within hours, simply began draining, once Elder Sanders was admitted. Miracle #2: check.

Elder Sanders’ prognosis is good.  The specialist in New Zealand has a brother who is exactly the kind of doctor Elder Sanders needs; and he just “happens” to practice in Elder Sanders’ hometown.  The Sanders, who started their journey home on Monday, had two appointments with doctors before they even got on the plane, and medical coverage assured from the Church.   Miracle #3: check.

The Sanders live in a rural area, and with the coming recovery period, Sister Sanders worried that because of the needs of their home, Elder Sanders would ignore doctors’ counsel to limit his activities.  Elder Sanders is a worker; he cannot sit for any length of time – he needs to be up and doing.  But Sister Sanders is very aware that in order for her husband to heal completely, he has to follow medical advice and avoid strenuous activity for three months.  Not easy for a man who has worked his own land and been a plumber for 40 years. 

Besides, before coming out on their mission, the Sanders rented out their house, and the contract is not up for another nine months.  Where would they live?

A couple of friends emailed the Sanders telling them they were going to travel to their daughter’s home, that they would be gone up to a year.  The Sanders looked at each other, smiled, and emailed a message:  do you want renters while you’re gone?  The return message began:  “The key is in the garage, the truck is ready to go, the cupboards are pretty empty – do you want our son to shop before you get here?”   And because these friends understand the power of pets during recuperation, they left their border collie behind, to stay with the Sanders.  Miracle #4: check.

Those are not all the miracles, but you get the idea.  The Lord takes care of His missionaries.  I believed that before, but now, with this experience, I have first-hand knowledge.  And Elder Sanders is not surprised.  He told us: “Why shouldn’t we expect miracles?  We’re out here doing what the Lord wants us to do.  We’re out here obeying our leaders, doing our best, and serving the people the way the Lord would serve them, if He were here.  So why should we be surprised when miracles happen?”

I am grateful for the faith and the faithfulness of those beside whom I serve.  It is hard on us to see the Sanders leave, but we trust that the Lord will continue to be mindful of this senior missionary, that his recovery may be complete, that he will be able to serve in other ways during the rest of his time here on earth.  And our friendship, our fellowship together, will continue to grow and develop.  Our paths may divide, but our hearts will remain entwined.  And we will continue to expect miracles.

The Sanders and our mission president and his wife.