Best. Kid. Ever.

Hiya family! I've been anticipating this moment the entire week since I first arrived in Rockford, IL. Before, even in the first few hours with my new companion, I felt confident that the transition would pass by as smoothly as my expectations permitted. But my commitment became real when we arrived at the apartment.

The apartment is stark, simple, clean, and we have our own washer and dryer, but when I deposited my bags into the room, there were no sheets and there was no pillow. Thankfully Elder Noho's previous companion left behind a comforter. Consequently, I was forced to adapt to the state of my bedding. My robe functioned surprisingly well as a pillow.

Next we went to the store. I picked up a few items, under the impression that we'd be fed most evenings. Thankfully I bought some spaghetti. But I don't mind having to cook for myself. I'll make the best of it and hopefully attain some mediocre cooking skills.

I could go into detail as to what has filled my days this week, but I'll summarize by saying that it's been hard to get through to anyone this week. The area is interesting because quite literally on most street corners, there's a church, some which cater to a very specific demographic. So when we knock on doors, more often than not, the
person or family is already Methodist or Baptist or Catholic, just name a few of the available denominations. What's more interesting is that when we knock on a door, ready to share our message about Jesus Christ, the Christians don't seem to desire to hear about Him, which is both illogical and frustrating. Much of our teaching has been to recent converts and less actives, which is noble in it's own regard, but when we reported our numbers last night, it was difficult to continue to report zero after zero. But I know who to rely on.

It's been hard to be away from you all. It's not like I ever took you for granted, but the reality of my situation became painfully apparent. When I'm scared or would easily come to any of you for guidance, I realize that you are no longer readily accessible. I've never appreciated and loved my family as I do now. I'm grateful for that. But I wish I could have reached this understanding some other way.

I want you all to know that I love you with a magnitude which defies description. You make the world worth living in, and I'll always love you.

Anyway, I love you all, and want you to know that I'll be okay, that I know that this isn't about me. It's about the people who need to hear the truth. I'll assimilate eventually, I'll become excited to work, and I'll change for the better. I love you all. I love you.