A Tool in the Lord's Hands

I have been friends with Alan for as long as I can remember, way back in elementary school. We were never super good friends who talked all the time, but growing up we always hung out at school and pretty frequently hung out on weekends with all our common friends.

A little more than a year ago, Alan went on a mission. The fact that he went was a miracle in itself because his dad was in the hospital at the time; rumor was he could die. I was so proud of him for making the decision to still serve the Lord although this hardship had fallen on his family. He gave one of the most touching and amazing farewell talks I had ever heard, and I was touched deeply by it. We talked for about a half hour at his house afterwards, which was pretty impressive for us. It was really nice to just… talk. I told him of my plans to go to Ukraine in August and how I hoped it would come sooner. He told me about all sorts of things about him I never really knew before. It was great to have that last time with him. But that was the last I’d hear from him or he from me for a long time…

I ended up going to Ukraine less than 2 weeks after talking to Alan. I was there for 5 months, and during one of my last few weeks there I got the idea to write a bunch of my friends from high school and such that were now on missions. I had 5 in mind, but somehow only ever got to 4 of them. Needless to say, it was Alan whom I continued to put off—not on purpose, but just because I got so busy wanting to see everything I could since I was going home in less than a month at that point.

It wasn’t until almost 2 months after I had been home that I saw Alan’s mom in July at a friend’s wedding reception. We talked for a while, and she said I really should write Alan because he loved getting mail and would love to hear from me. I agreed and she gave me his address. I wrote him immediately that night, because I felt especially bad since I had planned to write him so much sooner. I finished the letter the next day and sealed it up. I brought it out to my car, so I wouldn’t forget it was there and would take it to the post office in one of the next few days… However, after a week, it somehow got lost. After 2 months of searching for that letter, I finally found it in the back seat of my car—somewhere I still don’t know how it got there. I got the feeling that I really needed to send it soon, so I immediately went to the post office and sent it off.

I didn’t expect to hear back from him honestly. Only one of the other 4 letters wrote back and in all honesty it was a pretty outdated letter at that point… by over 2 months. And as time went on I knew I wouldn’t hear from him. Or so I had assumed.

A few days ago, my dad came in with the mail. He tossed me a letter. I was expecting one from my missionary and instead was shocked to see “Elder Alan” on the front. I tore it open so quick. I had sent him that letter just shy of 6 months earlier, and I was so excited to see what he’d have to say. Mainly because I couldn’t even remember what I had written… ha ha. Anyway, here’s the whole point to this post.

First off, I was shocked at how long the letter was. Two pages front and back? Of England paper, which is longer than American 8 ½ x 11 inches. It was really impressive. And I seriously wondered what in the world he could talk to me that long about…

Once again, Alan touched me deeply. His letter… I’ll just have to share a couple excerpts to help you understand along with me commentary.

About the same time as I talked to Alan’s mom, Alan became senior companion for the first time. He got a new companion, and it was evident right from the get go that they did not get along. With that came constant contention, loads of self-criticism along with his companion also putting in his two cents. Not to mention the fact that the work was completely dead where he was at. “Rain or shine we were facing massive rejection every day. I felt absolutely hopeless. I was doing what I was supposed to do, but to be frank, hating my life. Obviously my prayers were full of pleading and begging for strength and help in this difficult time.”

Alan continues to talk about October General Conference. Apparently, it’s like Christmas for missionaries :) During one of the breaks between sessions, Alan’s district leader brought their mail to them. That day he got my letter. “I continued to open it up right then and there and read your letter. Heather, your letter was the answer to my prayers.”

Now I don’t want to go into too much detail about what he said to me or I to him, and I don’t say what little I do to toot my own horn either. But I said to him what I felt, clear back in July, needed to be said for some reason. I wanted him to know of the times during high school where I was grateful for him, when he was such a good friend to me, when I was least expecting it. And anything good and uplifting I could think of. I told him of the words Genshai and Namaste, words that I learned while I was in Ukraine that brought so much more meaning to my life. “It touched me a great deal. So much so that on my next missionary planner, I wrote on the back, Genshai and Namaste-Never treat anyone small or make them feel small- NOT EVEN YOURSELF! It was almost as if you knew exactly what I was going through.”

At the very end of his letter he said this: "Even though it took me so long to respond, the impact of your letter was real. I hope you are loving life! It's meant to be loved ya know. Always remember Genshai. I have till this day."

I suppose that, to a point, I understood what Alan was going through, but I can assure you that, seeing as I hadn’t heard a thing from him (I don’t even get the weekly emails forwarded to me or anything) in over 7 months, I did not know what he was going through. At that time when I wrote the letter, I was on a spiritual high. I was feeling so good (which is always the best time to write letters) and essentially, all I was, was a tool in the Lord’s hands. And I have never been so grateful for that in my entire life.

So the next time you get a prompting of sorts—bake cookies for a neighbor, call someone randomly for no apparent reason, write a letter to a dear friend you haven’t spoken to in years—DO IT. You never know what kind of effect it could have on them.