"He's Been There Before"

This is the poem Morgan asked for in case you want to read it and another extra story we love.  I sent her both of these "missionary messages".

He’s Been There Before

June 30, 2008

The alarm bell rings at 6:30,
I stumble to my feet
I grab my companions bedding and pull off his sheets
A groan fills the room, is it already time to arise?

It seems like just a second ago
I was able to shut my eyes.
The morning activities follow- study, prayer and such
When it’s time to leave the apartment, you feel you haven’t accomplished much

“We have a super day planned,”
My comp. says with a grin
I lowly utter a faithless breath,
“Yeah, if anyone lets us in.”

With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street prepared to
Face another day of humidity and heat
It’s 9:30 in the evening, the day is almost through
My champion and I are riding home not accomplishing what we thought to do

We ride up to the mailbox, hoping to receive a lot
Only to look inside and hear my echo reverberate “air Box”
We go up to our apartment, the day is now complete
The only thing to show for our work is a case of blistery feet

It’s past 10:30 p.m. My companion is fast asleep,
Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep
In the midst of sadness, I kneel down to pray
I need to talk to father, but I’m not sure what to say

“Oh, Father” I begin, “What happened to us today?
I thought we’d teach somebody, but everyone was away
My hands, my aching hands- worn, hurt and beat;
If our area was any smaller, we’d have knocked every street”

“Why on missions are the days so much alike?
The only difference about today was the flat tire on my bike
Will you send some cooler weather? The heat is killing me
I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes, it’s very hard to see”

“Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn’t your protection enough?
People always laugh at me, and call me stupid stuff
Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack
I want to give them Books of Mormon, the weight of them hurts my back”

“And what about my family: They don’t have much to say
I’m sick of not hearing from home day after day after day
Oh Father, Why am I here am I just wasting time?
Sometimes I just want to go home, I’m sorry but that’s on my mind”

“My companion, Heavenly Father, what are you giving me?”
The way he rides his bicycle, I don’t think he can see.

Now you have it, I can’t go on, I don’t know what to do
That, my Father in Heaven, is the prayer I have for you”

My prayer now finished, I stand up, then jump right into bed
I need my rest for tomorrow, we have another long day ahead
Sleep start to overtake me, I seem to drift away
Then it seems a vision takes me to another time in another day

I’m standing alone on the hill. The view is very nice
A man walks towards me and says, “My name is Jesus Christ”
Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to His feet
“Arise,” He states, “Follow me to the shade. You and I need to speak”

My attention’s towards my Savior, total and complete
He says, “Your mission is similar of what happened to me
I understand how you feel, I know what you’re going through
In fact, it would be fair to say I’ve felt the same as you”

“I even know how you felt when no one listened to you
At times I felt not quite sure what else I could do
I know you don’t like to ride a bicycle, for you a car would be sweet
Just remember the donkey I rode wasn’t equipped with 21 speeds”

“I understand you don’t like sweating, in fact it’s something you hate
I remember when I sweat blood from ev’ry pore, oh the agony was great!
I see you don’t like your companion- you’d rather have someone else-
I once had a companion named Judas who sold my life for wealth”

“It’s hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you
I remember when they put thorns on my head and called me King of the Jews
So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack
I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back”

“Your hands hurt from tracting and knocking on doors all day
I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ached in a similar way
It’s hard not to hear from home when your family’s not there to see
I lost communication on the cross and cried, “Father, why hast Thou forsaken me?”

“We have a lot in common, but there’s a difference between us you see
I endured to the end and finished my mission, so follow and do like me”
He embraced me with His arms and His light filled me with His love
With tears in my eyes I watched as He went back to the Father above

I stood with awe and wonder when a beep rang in my head
I listened and heard the alarm, then realized I was in my bed
My companion let out a groan, “6:30 already, no way!”
I sat up and said, “Come on, I’ll even carry your scriptures today!”

No matter what we go through,
when we feel we can’t take more
Just stop and think about Jesus Christ,
He’s been there before

By Elder Troy Whittle

Texas Houston Mission

Louetta Frye’s Conversion

The Story as told by Bill Carpenter

Bill Carpenter was a young man who had studied 3 and a half years in a Catholic seminary to become a Priest. Just before he was to take his final vows, he came in contact with THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS. Through the efforts of several people, including his family, and through the prompting of the Holy Spirit, he joined the Church on December 4, 1982.  He served his mission in the Iowa-Des Moines mission from February 1984 to February 1986. This is the conversion story which he relates of an African/American sister named Louetta Frye.

               

                "I was serving in East Des Moines when my companion and I knocked on the door of a house. No one answered so we knocked again and still no one answered. As we started to walk away down the sidewalk, we heard, very faintly behind us, the voice of a woman. "No boys, don't go!"  We turned around. Standing in the door frame, an elderly Black African/American woman, probably in her late 70's, beckoned us to come back. She invited us in and introduced herself as Louetta Frye.

                Louetta was very lonely and she desperately wanted someone to talk to - just to listen to her words. I had learned early in my mission that to teach people the Gospel, many times you have to answer their physical or, spiritual needs, before you can prepare them to receive the Gospel. So, for about an hour we just listened to her as she talked, sharing memories of her life and of her dead husband. When she finished, she sighed heavily and said, "Okay, so you have something to share with me?"

                We taught her the 1st discussion, placed a BOOK OF MORMON with her, and gave her a reading assignment. We didn't make a return appointment. About 2 weeks passed and I felt really impressed one day that we should go back and see her. We did and encountered the same scenario. For the first hour she just talked and we didn't say anything.

                When she finished, she sighed and said, "Okay, I am ready to listen."

                I asked, "Louetta, did you get a chance to read in the BOOK OF MORMON like we asked you to?"

                She replied, "Yes, I read some."

                "What did you think?" I asked.

                She said, "Well, I understand, boys, the Sermon On The Mount better in 3 NEFFI (Nephi) than I did in the Bible."

                "That's great, Louetta" I exclaimed. "That is what the BOOK OF MORMON does, it helps to confirm the Bible.  Anything else?"

                She said, "Well, I did read about a people I'm not sure I understand. They were called the Jaredites. Now were they the people that were scattered at the time of the Tower of Babel?"

                My companion and I smiled at each other. We knew that the Jaredites were not in 3 Nephi and that's where the reading assignment was, so we explained to her that they indeed are.

I asked again, "Anything else, Louetta?" (After all, the third time is the charm.)

                "Well, no, I don't think, then again, I read about two boys. Now their dad is a prophet, their brother is a righteous man. God even sends an angel to them." Then she threw her arms up and she said, "Oh, you can't teach some kids anything!"

                We laughed. (Those boys were Laman and Lemuel, and they weren't in 3 Nephi, either.) So, I said, "Louetta, how much did you read?" The sweetest memory of my mission is of that elderly woman picking up the BOOK OF MORMON from off the coffee table, holding it to her bosom saying, "I read it. I read all of it and I loved it."

                It was a beautiful experience for us. We challenged her to be baptized and she accepted.

                We taught Louetta the remaining missionary discussions. Teaching Louetta was so much fun. She was like a child in a candy store. She wanted everything, all of the knowledge that she could absorb, and she wanted it now.

She had a friend who worked at a bank, and she had her write this little contract that we were her adopted grandchildren. As the adopted grandchildren, we had certain contractual obligations to Louetta. One was that we'd come to listen to her stories, drink her hot chocolate, and eat her cookies that she made for us. It was a very binding contract, one not hard to fill!

                Louetta's house was like every grandmother's house in Iowa. It's just cluttered to the ceiling with a whole lifetime of memories. She had this overstuffed couch and chair. She would sit in that big wing-backed chair and just about disappear. She had one ratty dog who would chew on her shoes under the couch while we taught her.

                January, 1986, her baptism was a lovely experience. At 83 years old and 100 pounds, Louetta was frail. My companion and I both got into the waters of baptism with her. I raised her up out of the water. Crying, she embraced us and said, "It's done. 83 years and it's done."

                The next day we explained to her about Visiting Teaching and Home Teachers. We told her she'd want to set a goal to go to the Temple, and we explained some other things to her. My companion said, "Louetta, you'll want to get a Patriarchal Blessing"

                "What's that?" she asked.  He explained that a Patriarchal Blessing is a blueprint for your spiritual life.

She exclaimed, "Oh, I want one of those blueprints." Louetta was an insistent, dogmatic kind of lady and she wouldn't let us leave that day until we'd contacted the Bishop and the Stake Patriarch and made an appointment for her so she could get a blueprint. We made the appointment.

                Two weeks later, Louetta received her printed Patriarchal Blessing in the mail. That same morning she phoned us at 9:00am in the morning. "Are you coming over today, boy?" she asked.

                And I said, "Yes, we are. You know we are." We'd been visiting her every day for about 20 minutes. "We'll come over about 2:00pm, like we always do."

                She said, "Oh no! That won't do. That won't do because it came."

                "What came?"

                "The blueprint came."

                "The blueprint?" I asked, totally confused.

                "The blessing. I want you to come over this morning!"  I told her we'd be there about 9:30am.

                When we arrived, Louetta handed me the blessing and said, "I'd like you to read that for me."

                I said, "No, Louetta, that's personal. I think you should be the first to read it."

                She asked me again to read it and again I declined, saying, "I think it's between you and the Lord and you ought to read it first."

                Her eyes got big and for the first time ever since we began teaching her, she called us "Elders."

"Now, Elders, you don't understand, do you?"

                I said, "I don't understand what, Louetta?"

                My eyes haven't seen words on a written page in over 15 years. But, when you gave me that book, I knew it was true because I saw the words and the Lord granted me that power until I finished its last page. Well, I don't have that power anymore. My eyes are dim once again. Would you please read my blessing to me?"

                For a long time we just sat there. Finally, I started to read Louetta her blessing. It talked about the elect woman that she was and all that God had planned for her. I got about 3/4 of the way through it, and I read a line that changed my mission and changed my life.  It said that Louetta would have joined the Church 25 years earlier if the Elder that had accepted his call would have gone. But he did not. But now, two other missionaries had been prepared to teach her. And they have proven themselves worthy of that blessing because of some sacrifice and trials on their part.  THIS was the last month of my six-month extension.  I can't imagine what my life would have been if I'd never met Louetta.  Louetta passed away that night, having completed all that the Lord wanted her to do.

                One thing we need to know is that our decision to serve, or, not to serve, affects other people. That when the Lord chooses a missionary, he just doesn't say, "Well, North Carolina, Charlotte Mission needs missionaries, or, The Iowa, Des Moines mission needs missionaries" He matches your personality, your talents and your gifts with certain people that reside in that mission, so that their lives may be touched."

Bill Carpenter is now an LDS Seminary teacher and lives in Spanish Fork, Utah, with his wife, Julie Ashman Carpenter, and their son, Levis.