Monday, August 3, 2015

#57 Dreams & Visions

Pretty cool while you're walking to a lesson and on your right there are a couple giraffes eating trees and on your left there are a couple impalas

Amazing week. Gonna really dwell on the good for a while here-

Saw some miracles, have a testimony that Nephi's words are true 'I will show you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance.'

I just really believe that's true, especially after a week like this week. I believe that God will give us little assurances along challenging times that say "Hey, I'm here, I'm in control, don't worry so much".

"Therefore, sanctify yourselves that your minds become single to God, and the days will come that you shall see him; for he will unveil his face unto you, and it shall be in his own time, and in his own way, and according to his own will."

Basically I had an experience super special this week, where in a sense- Christ 'unveiled' His Face to me in His own way.

In a little room in a little pre-apartide house, we sat teaching two Zimbabweans. They've been ready and praying about the Bhuka Ra Mormoni. Anyways for the past couple weeks I've had a lot of doubts and stuff concerning points of doctrine etc. I guess you could say. So what this investigator told me was profound, he said "I had a dream, in this dream (I'm paraphrasing) the earth was divided into two bodies of land. There was an endless sheet of transparent glass standing in separation of the two land masses.

I was standing on one side, looking into the latter, beholding quite the scene. There was a dark mist, a veil of unbelief rent upon all of these wayward souls. The source of the dreary, polluted air was the spirit of Satan himself. He was riding along through the air, having control upon a lot of those people. In fact, compared to the opposite side, there were a mere few compared to nations and kindreds encompassed by the spirit of the adversary on the other side of the glass.

On the other hand, the other side of the glass was filled with a couple missionaries. A couple missionaries trying to bring the people of the frightening, hopeless scene into the light, seeing as the side on which the missionaries stood was clear, and calm. There was a man, who was standing behind the missionaries, looking on towards the glum of the sad scene transpiring before his eyes. He stood in a cream colored robe, with his hands behind his back, looking upon his wayward sheep with pity, and sadness. Watching them. Behind (the Savior) stood a couple pure white sheep, grazing happily behind him.

"Despite all of the souls on Satan's side, the Devil wasn't satisfied, nor will he ever be happy or satisfied. I saw him pressing up on the glass, staring into the missionaries souls, saying "I want their blood". He was lamenting, flailing around the glass, throwing everything he could at them, but nothing could effect the missionaries as long as they didn't go to the other side of the wall.

"I saw a bridge, that was dividing these two regions. I realized that I was on the bad side of these two different worlds. I beheld I was close to this bridge, which (take note of this) was a pure white color. My wife and I were really close to the bridge.

"The construction of the bridge was very narrow, seemingly one person could only cross it at once. The bridge's architecture was the most peculiar. It was constructed with several different gates, fashioned in a way that if you walked through one, and it passed you, you couldn't really go back, it looked like this:


you could walk through >that way, but after you've walked through, it's tough to go back <that way.

Me and my wife were close to this gate, that leads to the promised land."

I dunno, for myself I've been struggling with wondering and praying about if priesthood authority and proper ordinances and binding covenants are really necessary to return to live with God again, but his dream helped to bring light to that question, it also helped me to realize that although inadequate, my calling as a missionary is so important. Important enough that Satan is relentless and uncontainable in his pursuit of the 'blood of the missionaries'.

Anyways, so that was cool, but after that he told me about another dream he had. 
I can't give it the proper eloquence and magnificence it deserves via typing. So I'm not gonna even try, he basically just relayed a dream he had that was so angelic, sacred, and self-assuring to me, that no tongue short of God could've uttered what proceeded forth out of that guy's mouth. 

I just have a testimony about miracles. I have a testimony that God's unequivocal majesty and love can be observed and discerned through a number of different catalysts, whether it's through a straight awe-inspiring African sunset, or the laughter of a little child, I really believe that it's there, and it's tangible, and non-coincidental. Just grateful to get little glimpses and assurances that there really is a Greater Being above, that life in itself isn't void, but purposeful. That this message I've been declaring has good, even the fullness of good inside of it. It's something worth committing a couple years specifically, and a life generally to. It's the greatest message that's ever arrived at the doorstep of mother earth since the angels declared the coming of the Messiah.

My ancestors died with their black, frostbitten hands frozen to the crude wood of handcarts. Feeling their cold, famished, children breath their last breath as their cholera-stricken bodies fell lifeless and vacant in their arms. Burying spouses, children, and friends in shallow frozen graves, along the path marked with blood from the feet of the  Israelite's. Listening to ravening wolves devour their weak, frozen bodies in the night-time.

What I'm trying to say, is that they must've felt something deep, when they heard about this Prophet Joseph Smith. They must've felt something deep when they read the Book of Mormon. They must've felt something deep when they decided to sail across the great Atlantic, suffer numerous travails just to get to America, then walk millions and millions of footsteps to get to Zion in the Rocky Mountains.

If they could sacrifice so much to make it to Zion, they I can sacrifice what I can to build Zion in South Africa. If it was that real to them, then it can be that real to me.

Concerning the Martin Handcart company, and regarding some criticism that was transpiring within a group of people who were living in the Salt Lake Valley several years after the arrival of the handcart saints, there were some harsh words spoken about the church leaders who allowing Saints to cross the plains in those handcarts.

An old man, emotion flooding his face stood up and rebuked them saying: "I was in that company with my wife...we suffered beyond anything you can imagine... but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? I have pulled my handcart when I was so wear and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it... I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that angels of God were there... Was I sorry I came by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since... We came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities... The price we payed to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company."

One day, it's my prayer that I will say, looking back on my experience in South Africa: "It was worth the price to become acquainted with God."

I believe this work is true. I believe angels of God, that once pushed the handcarts of my beloved ancestors, are pushing me. Pushing me through the Boer hounds, through the rejection, through the rough times, through those people who treat us like straight township dogs, just like the Apostles of old. And pushing me through to the Promised Land.

Sorry I guess a mission just makes you kinda spiritual sometimes. I believe that this stuff is true though. I believe that I'm not wasting my time. I'm grateful for the hand-placed tender mercies that re-ignite my testimony and illuminate my pathways.

The visions and blessings
of old
are returning
And Angels are coming
to visit the earth.

Israel Lives

Elder Tanner Noah Clegg
lol im getting a newe camera this week sorry for the lack of pictures. This is what I look like mom if you were wondering

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