In Which I Talk About Cancassing

So….today was interesting. It started way too stinkin early, because Joana had to take me to the clinic to– oh, but I’d better back up.

So, yesterday I came to a house with this small, white dog. It’s just sitting there watching me, not acting threatening in the least. I knocked on the door. Nothing happened. I knocked again. The man opened the door. At that point, the dog started barking at me –mean barking– and attacked. Well, as much as an ankle biter can, anyway. She/he/it bit me on the….ankle area? really hard. Even though my leggings, it broke skin. The owner shooed the dog inside, and I kinda limped from house to house. I told my leader, but she started talking to Mason, so I figured nobody cared. We’ll fast forward a couple of hours to when someone finally paid ttention to me, and Joana realized that hey, maybe I should get that looked at. Since it is a really small wound, she waited till after work, which was kinda dumb in my opinion because most walk in clinics aren’t open that late. I mean, I know there are souls to save, but I mean, come on, who knows whether that dog had its shots?

So this morning I had to get up super early, not for devotions (though I tried to have those too, but because of the earliness, it wasn’t happening) but to go to a clinic. Hours and much paperwork later, I come out with antibiotics and a pill to deal with the sideaffects I always get. It’s awesome how willing doctors are to prescribe that pill.

Anyway, on to what you really want to hear about: Canvassing! Woot! Or something. I wish I’d gotten this down earlier because now I am fumbling for words. The guy behind the door wasn’t interested, so I continued. And then I hear someone running behind me. I’ve never had someone chase me down the street before, but I know it happens, so I turned around. It was the guy whose door I’d knocked on just a few minutes ago. He handed me two shiny gold dollar coins (I thought they were quarters at first, haha) he still wouldn’t take the HD, but he said, “you know, I was watching you come, and I wondered how you would take my rejection, but you were very polite about it, and respectful, and so I decided to give you this.”

Taken aback, I said thank you, I strive always to be polite (even when it’s really not easy. I don’t always succeed, working on that) and we proceeded to talk. It turns out he’s actually done some of the same type of work, for a different denomination. He said they would go door to door selling dream catchers and the money would go this church.

And…this is where I’m kind of ashamed. I felt the holy spirit leading, and I didn’t do anything. Basically, he said he wanted to give me something, free, and handed me a book. He said it was written by his church’s leader, and that it was about uniting christianity. I thought I felt the holy spirit leading me to give the man a GC in return, telling him that it talked about uniting the different denominations of Christianity. Book for Book, why not? But all I could think of was money, and how HE was being so encouraging, saying it was a good work I was doing, and to keep doing it.

I wish I was better, and actually LISTENED to the Holy Spirit. When he deigns to talk to me, which isn’t often.

I thought about going back to give him a GC, but never did.

But, there is a point to this little story: that guy came back to talk to me ​because I was courteous. ​Even if we don’t feel like it, (and it is hard, I know) courtesy will go a lot farther sometimes than anything else we can do.

Anyway, I actually sometimes get a fair amount of people who tell me this is a good way to reach out and I should keep doing it. Not every day, but some days. But I’ve never had it happen twice in the same day.

I was at this lady’s house, and I could tell by the signs that she was a conservative Christian, but I asked anyway (because one should never assume… maybe ​she​ wasn’t the Christian, after all, maybe it was her husband. Actually it turned out her husband was in A and had run out of gas, and she had to go pick him up. This was why she had no money, otherwise she’d help. (Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, but this lady seemed honest, and I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.) Since she said she was a Christian, I asked if I could go ahead and pray for her. So I said a quick prayer for her and her husband, that she would have patience and that God would be with her. Afterwards she hugged me, said thank you, and that that was much needed.

I think that is the first time someone has hugged me out in the field.

I’m surprised I didn’t mind it.

She said she thought it was a good mission for me, and to keep doing it, and she was just very encouraging.

The rest of the day was very discouraging. Especially since I started today, and was in minimal amounts of pain. Plus I was getting dehydrated faster than normal because of this, and was actually feeling sick because I couldn’t get in enough water. I think Jeandra actually felt bad for me, and if I’d complained too hard, she probably would’ve let me stay in the van till lunch. But, I didn’t feel I was quite that bad off.

The rest of the day was rough. I know Jesus was with me, but it was hard to believe it.

I’m disappointed. God only had till today to show me in some mighty big way whether he wanted me here or not. And please don’t tell me that the above experiences are proof of anything, because I’ve had even more people tell me that I should quit and get a real job. I was hoping for like, a ten book set, or a dump bag, something, anything. Even a sprained ankle would be a sign: GO. All I got was a stupid dog bite.

But actually, I’m thankful for that dog bite. You see, yesterday Joana was a little crazy. She said that if we didn’t get a certain number of books out (it kept changing, seriously) that day she was going to keep us out at a gas station until we got out the number we were “supposed” to. Of course, after that I had fifty thousand fits of anxiety, (which meant I didn’t sell ANYTHING because I was so anxious all I could do was pray I’d get out enough books to keep her off my back) because

1. gas station. Late at night.

2. This would cut into my Jesus/reflection time

3. This would cut into my sleep time, and then I’d be tired in the morning.I did text Wyson and ask how late Joana was allowed to keep us out till, but he never texted back. He probably thought I just wanted to go home at 9 instead of 9:10 or something stupid like that. No, Wyson, I’m having a blankety blank blank blank anxiety attack AND YOU WON’T EVEN HELP ME. Ahem. Sorry. Moving on.

But, since Joana wanted to take me to the clinic, we ended up skipping the whole gas station thing. So, even though I was kinda mad at God and super disappointed with him at first, I’m thankful that he let that dog bite me. The fact that I still didn’t get evening time with Jesus is beside the point, because I thought I would be getting it and was able to calm down after that. I’m not sure if I sold anything still, but at least I was able to get through the rest of the day without having to take cry breaks. Yes, I literally had to stop on the street twice yesterday to shed a few tears, or I was going to break down at the doors. In fact, I almost did.Which is why I stopped and took cry breaks.

But! that was yesterday, and this is today. Today was… better than yesterday, but not in terms of sales. In terms of

1. I had experiences

2. I was able to pray with someone who sounded like she really needed it.

If I had to go through all that to reach even just one, just that one lady, a sister in Christ, who needed encouragement, it was worth it. It was worth working in hundred degree heat sipping on water that was hotter than I was. It was worth walking in extreme heat even though I was not feeling well.

I still do not like canvassing. But I do like having experiences like the lady. Like the man. Next time I will listen to the Holy Spirit. Especially if money is the only objection. I know they tell us not to give out books for free, but in some situations I believe it can be beneficial. And, I mean, come on, God can provide donations to cover it. If not today, then the next, or the day after that. And, at the end of the day, I did have enough donations to cover it.

But who knows. Maybe we’ll be back next year. Maybe some other student will knock on that guy’s door. Maybe that other student would be better to reach that guy (whose name I never caught, so I’ll call him George) than I was because… some personalities are better at reaching people than others. Maybe he’ll remember the student who showed him the GC. Maybe he’ll remember the courteous way in which she treated him. Maybe he will figure out the student is with the same organization, and the new student will canvass the GC better than I did. Maybe all I did was soften the way for George to be open to the Holy Spirit’s leading later on in his life.

I will never know what I did. Whether I had a positive or negative impact on his overall spirituality. (I mean, if I didn’t listen to the HS telling me to give him the book, that could still be a negative impact.) But maybe I planted the seed. Maybe.

This is a rebuke to me. No matter how people treat me, I must be polite. I must be courteous. I must treat them like my own brother/sister in Christ.

Because we don’t always know the impact of just one kind word. Just one.

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In Which I Ask Prayer

The decision to leave is no longer in my hands. I am such a fool. If I had been able to hide things better…

Just pray that God’s will be done. Please. And that he will make clear to me (and possibly to other people) what that is.

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In Which I Fall Asleep

And almost miss a wonderful (not!) day of canvassing. I should’ve stayed in the goram church and not let Jeandra find me. The perfect excuse, really. And it probably will not work again.

My battery’s low, so I’d better do this quick.

Maybe the bad day was God punishing me for not wanting to go out…

So. Not only do I not like N, I REALLY do not like N. When the rest of us count out money, we do so QUIETLY. N does not. N counts her money loudly, and then whines rEALLY REALLY loudly about having an odd number of ones. Which would bother me a bit too, but I would never actually name a dollar ammount.

And if you ask her how her day went, she’ll start talking about how much money she made. Not even how many books she sold, MONEY.

I thought the point of all this was souls?

Maybe I’m just not above petty jealousy. Maybe if I was making as much as she brags about making, I’d be more willing to take it. Maybe I’d even enter into the discussion. Maybe it’s a good thing, then. If I concentrated on money, I’d always be trying to one up her. No, it is a good thing, then, that I don’t usually make half as much.

But, I do feel it is a concern. After all, I have needs. I am trying to go to school. It has really been bothering me that I only get to keep 50% of what I make. that means that, that one day when I worked ALL FREAKIN DAY and only got $4, I only got to keep $2. And currently they’re only allowing me to withdraw %5 a week. I checked what that would have been, because I needed $40 for my medication.

Bottom line: I haven’t even made enough money to cover a bottle of pills. Last week, 5% was around $5. A little less, actually.

That’s not going to pay for school. A car. Braces. That’s not even going to be enough to pay for half a textbook.

A student left today. Heruy (pronounced Harry, also not a typo). The pressure from his parents got to be too much. They told him he needed to get a real job and make real money for school. So Heruy packed his things and he left.

I don’t think anyone has a clue how effin jealous I am. His parents came and got him. His parents cared enough to come and get him.

Mine didn’t even care enough to drop me off.

One of my parents told the other parent they didn’t even love me.

I need to talk to someone without bias. Someone who can sit down with me and look at things objectively. All the arguments I’ve heard are from people who are hardcore pro-canvassing. I need someone to look at things with me objectively.

If you or someone you know is willing to do this, PLEASE let me know.

sigh. I’m getting rained out, so I guess I’m done.

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In Which I Tell An Experience

I want to know why he laundry room closes at 7:30. Seriously, it’s not even sabbath. And people were Sooooooo SLOWWWWWW getting ready this morning that we didn’t leave till late. Sigh. Worked something out wih lady in charge, but she’s no too happy.

Sometimes I really do think Advetists get too worked up over this whole sabbath thing. Particularly when it’s not even sabbath yet. I wish we weren’t leaving tomorrow night.

Anyway, weird experience yesterday. I started canvassing the man on the GC. I thought he’d shy me down right away. He had a somewhat angry expression on his face, and he barely even glanced at the book. So I was surprised when, halfway through the canvass, in an abrupt tone of voice, he asked me how much it was. Taken aback, I told him. He left, and took the book with him. I just stood there not knowing what to do. Eventually he came out with he money, said here you go, and shut the door. I did manage to squeak a thank you had a nice day in there as he’s closing the door in my face.

I use no idea what was going on in that mans head. Maybe it was a divine appointment, and he was jus private abou it. Like maybe he just said “lord sent someone to my door” or something. If he was just goingto buy whatever I showed him, I wish I’d pulled out man of peace. The great controversy is often toyed as the best book, bu man of peace talks about Jesus, the most important thing/person ever. The great controversy is…. History. And frankly, it’s BORING history. Until the very last few chapters on the 2nd coming, where it finally gets interesting.

I want that man to know Jesus. I’m not sure the GC can/will do that.

Maybe that’s why I can sell man of peace even without a canvass. I’ve read the book. Twice. I love it. When I talk about it, my eyes light up. The people who bought that book from me bought it because they were interested. Except for that one weird exception, those who bought the GC only did it to help me with school.

There’s something to be said for that. About me, probably.

Doig slightly better, but id lie to leave from cm. maybe grandma A— will give me a ride to bc on the way back if there’s room?

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By he way, I am still looking for a ride out of here. Any takers?

In Which I Am Angry

Especially because this is THE FOURTH FUCKIN TIME I’ve tried to write this. whoever wrote the script for wordpress is a TOTAL DUMBASS.

Warning, post contains swearing.

If The lord ever calls me back to canvassing (which he’d better not, because I still REALLY DON’T LIKE THIS) he’d better find an all adult program for me to go to.

I am an adult. I am 23, to be exact. And I am SICK TO FUCKIN DEATH of being treated like I am 16. Actually, I was sick to death of that at 16 too, but at 16 it’s at least a bit more understandable.

Do ya’ll know how FUCKIN HARD I WORKED to GET to 23? Do you know how hard I worked just to survive childhood, to get to the point where I had the HOPE of being treated like an adult? Let me tell you, it was hard fuckin work.

Especially because I lost track of the number of times I tried to kill myself. Sometimes all the time, I wish I had succeeded.*

When I left glaa, I promised myself I would never go anywhere where I was not

1. treated like the adult I now am

2. Not allowed technology, like computers, cell phones, and ipods. Exceptions being if there was a really good reason, like an activity that involves lots and lots of WATER.

3. Any place where I’d be forced to wear a skirt.

When I left GLAA, I said I was done with all that. I have not kept my promise on the first one, and am wishing I had.The 3rd is barely live with able, but I could do it if I didn’t feel like those who have skirts here are treated as less than subhuman.

*sigh* Need to find a new secret spot. Problem is, most don’t have wifi. fuckety fuck fuck fuck fuck

God it’s so great to say that. Fuck. Just, fuck. It’s so great to say that without fear of being yelled at. Fuck goddammit bitch bastard hell cunt dick fucktard fuckhead goddammned idiot dammit ehiowijfdew

If you are an Adventist, and you just read through all that, congratulations. I really greatly respect someone whose ears aren’t delicate. Or in this case, your eyes. Personally I think those with delicate ears are annoying as fuck, because they’re if they’re seriously too weak to handle it, they’re not for this world.

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Side note, I really do need to stop swearing. It’s a bad habbit.

 

 

 

*disclaimer, I am not currently suicidal. Because suicide pisses off the Almighty God, and when God gets pissed off,  the pisser off ER does not get to go to heaven or get help when he or she needs it. So, no more suicide attempts for me.

 

In which I am losing my faith

So, when I got here, I thought I was going to have someone to speak to. Someone like a counselor. I felt I would really benefit from this. And the person bailed. I thought that I was going to get better. I thought someone was going to help me.

I honestly am beginnin to think God doesn’t exist right now. What kind of a mean god does that? Just holds out hope and then snatches it away?

And then, the big one: if god isn’t willing to give me the help I need OUT of the field, what on earth makes me think he’ll help me IN the field?

In my life I’ve never really quit anything, even when I should have. Maybe I should quit now, for my own sanity’s sake. Maybe… It’d be better this way.

The lord doesnt want a worker like me anyway. He wants someone who WANTS to be here. Who likes doing this.

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In Whch God Answers a Prayer I Forgot To Ask

June 14, 2012

*Sigh* I need to find a new hiding spot. N just found mine. Fan crappin’ tastic. Ah, well, I should’ve known I was going to have to soon anyway. I should actually just try rotating thinking spots on a weekly basis or something. That way even Wyson, who knows the “secret location” can be in the dark, while thinking he knows where I am. For when I REALLY don’t want to be bothered.

Actually, I want to find Teddy and figure out when he wants to leave for CM. I need to know… 10 minutes ago.

Anyway, this morning, I did not have time for lunch. The ever wonderful breakfast prep crew forgot to tell the cleanup crew that breakfast was available. We had 5 minutes to eat. Ask us if we tasted our food. Yeah, I was PISSED. I ended up just standing in the kitchen eating, so cleanup was late, so we were late to worship…. anyway, I did NOT have time to eat lunch. I’m still not happy with the breakfast prep crew.

So, as a group, we had a GC goal. We wanted to get 20 GCs out as a group. I don’t know WHY they focus on the GC so much. It’s not even remotely interesting until MAYBE the last 4 chapters. And it has the American flag on the cover, which is very off putting.

*sigh* I really need to find a new “secret spot.” This one is way too out in the open.

Anyway, I’ve only ever sold one GC, and the guy made it clear to me that he just wanted to help me out with school. He did not actually want the book. He was nice about it though. We struck up a conversation in Spanish. And said it was a good way to reach out to people, and to keep doing it. Which is odd because he is actually Jewish, but THAT’S ANOTHER STORY. Focus Abby. (Did I mention this was at a really low point of discouragement when I was in the “I want to quit the program” stage?)

AHEM. Anyway, today’s story. So, Jeandra was texting Wyson, and asked….well, I’m not sure what she asked, but Wyson texted back 17. Jeandra told us that, and then said, “now, it’s time for lunch, but if you guys want, we can work another few streets and have the goal met for the day!” I was the only voice of dissent. And, really, it wasn’t a battle worth fighting at that point. Everyone was energized with our success, and so early in the morning! God was really working.

I’d had barely enough time to grab a pb sandwhich from breakfast (however, one is not enough) and a bag of cookies Jacq sent me. I figured my meager fare could wait. So we canvassed more. Rodney (I think?) got one more GC. I don’t think I got out any more books that hour or not. I think the books I got out that morning were BEFORE this. Anyhow, Jeandra actually told us when we got back into the van that she had made a mistake. Leader miscommunication. Wyson had been counting down, not up. Jeandra had been counting up, not down. Do we see the problem here? 17 (16, after Rodney’s) MORE GCs, not 3/2 more.

But, since Jeandra said we all went the extra mile, she was going to take us all out to eat anyway! I was stoked, because, hey, the day I forget my lunch!

So, we go to this Korean restaurant, and I’m a bit reserved because Korean food usually equals spicy, which I can’t have. What I had ended up being rather bland, but I still got to try a lot of appetizers and everyone else’s food. My food was actually served in a very hot metal bowl, so I even had a hard time eating it because it was just too hot temperature wise.

So, I didn’t even ask, but God provided me food. He really does take care of his own.

Now if only I was. I had such a bad attitude toward the end of the day. I said words I regretted (no one heard them, I don’t think, but still.)

Tomorrow we are heading to campmeeting. I have no idea when Teddy is leaving, but I hope I get to meet up with Callie.

I am now officially late for curfew. And when the girls ask where I was, I can’t get away with “around.” If there’s one thing I’ve learned about N, it’s that she’s a tattle tale.

And the trouble will be finding a new hiding spot that has internet access. From the church, not that godawful school network where even wordpress.com is blocked. Tell me how LAME is that?

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