I *Heart* Epidemics

Hello! Welcome to the three-week-left Edition of Sister Taylor's email.

In our upcoming news report we will feature news following the dreaded RotoVirus outbreak among the missionaries in the Provo Missionary Training Center.

We will also have a special feature on how the 12-week program slowly turns missionaries insane -- complete with personal experiences.

On a lovely, warm Tuesday night all was well among the 3,000 plus missionaries in the Marriott Center. Little did they know they were in for a surprise, and a long, sleepless night.

*personal story time*

Sister Bradshaw and I had just gotten home from the devotional and were heading to our room to check on a sister who had an allergic reaction to some food when I started to get a really bad headache. On our floor I ran to the bathroom, lost my dinner, and decided I was going to be okay. We went back to class, and half way through I decided it would probably be a much better idea for me to lay in the hall of our residence. After a good hour of never wanting to be sick again I slowly crawled over to my dear companion, whispered my final words into her ear, and died.  Not really. I just asked her to call the front desk to get Elder Hansen and White to our building to give me a blessing.

After the phone call, I scooted outside, in my pj's, without shoes, at 10:45, with lovely Sister Urling and Sister Bradshaw. As I was sprawled upon the sidewalk an older gentleman wearing a suit came walking towards us. "Great," I thought "here I am, in PJ's, no shoes, past curfew, laying on the middle of the sidewalk."  We had a nice chat, he asked where we were going, (after the "why are you on the sidewalk" question) and told us he was the Branch President of the Korean Zone. We had a nice chat until we were interrupted by MTC security escorting our lovely Elders to my grave site.

I got a blessing, puked, shuffled to the front desk, picked up prescription Pepto on steroids, and didn't puke again.  Moral of the story: If you lay on the sidewalk past curfew and get a blessing, you will puke no longer.  There have been a good few hundred missionaries sick, we're not allowed to hug or shake hands and the hand sanitizer machines are multiplying like rabbits. All is well in the land of Epidemic. (The MTC)

In other news,

well... there's not much other news.

Sister Bradshaw and I were in the Choir yesterday. I'm about 99% sure you did not see us. Pourquoi? Well, we were literally the very top row of sisters. I don't think the camera can even zoom high enough to see where we were sitting. Oh well, the chairs we sat in were padded. That made the entire venture worth it. There is nothing worse in the MTC than sitting for 4 or more hours on hard bleacher chairs.

On to our spiritual thought of the week brought to you by Sister Ana De Agostini of the Relief Society General Board:

Her son is in the military, and she shared a thought about how "We are always in enemy territory." She wasn't referring to being in the middle of Iraq, she was referring to our life, right now, right here. She sent her son into the middle of a very deadly area. Our Heavenly Father sent us to the Earth, where we could be tested and tempted by Satan. She worried about her son, she loved her son, and wanted to help him in anyway she possibly can. Our Heavenly Father is exactly the same. He loves us, He worries about us, and He WILL help us if we ask. 

But, it's not enough to sit around blocking yourself from Satan. You can't live your life on the defensive, we are here to prepare and execute our offensive plan of attack. (Yeah, I just made that up, you can quote me.) But really. I love my family, I love my friends and I'm sitting in the MTC regretting not sharing the gospel better with the people I love and don't have it. That my lovely friends and family is our best offensive. *cue epic sound track here* I know we've been beaten on the head over and over about the importance of Member Missionary Work the past few months, but it is so important. I'm going to a country where I can speak a little bit, but not enough to really get to know a stranger on the street and let them know I love them and share the wonderful details of the plan we have. I'm praying to meet members who have friends they already know and love and that these members are willing to show me who to talk to. Knocking on doors won't get me very far, but knowing your neighbors will get missionaries ANYWHERE even farther than we imagine.  

*end missionary work rant here*

The MTC is slowly injecting me with insanity. If you haven't noticed already. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE it here. I am just extremely ready to get into the field. I want to meet people and teach non-fake investigators. 3 more weeks! That just means you will only get 2 more lovely emails from me in the MTC. I can do that. :)

Oh, in light of the passing of my stay in the MTC, anyone may donate any of the following items at your nearest post office:

mustard pretzels

the blue striped skirt in the second to last drawer of my dresser

cliff bars

fruit leather (I will never dislike delicious fruity sheets of mush)

skirts that have elastic waistbands (and are soft and comfy, patterns or no patterns accepted)

super duper soft exercise shirts (Gramsie, you win, my shirt is sooo comfortable, thank you again)

letters

pictures

silly putty

To donate:

Place item into box.

If you live in Utah County UPS will deliver your box for free on Fridays

Write

Sister Morgan Taylor

MTC Box #174

TAHI-PAP 0715

2005 North 900 East

Provo, Utah

84604

on box

Deliver to post office

Wait approx 1 week for thank you card of love and admiration

If you made it through this email, congratulations! If you'd like an explanation on why I'm so weird today, I blame running 3 miles just barely, then eating M&Ms, followed by living in a 1 mile radius for the past 2 months.

I LOVE YOU!

XXo,

Soeur Taylor