He Takes Away the Stain

It's spring here in the southern hemisphere!

There is nothing I love as much as the springtime. It's the season of new beginnings, brimming with the hope of second chances, the promise of adventure, and a world of open doors. We clean out all the clutter, vacuum all the dust, break out nicer shoes... Bird songs ring through the air. So do ours.

I think there's a reason we call it "spring fever." There something intoxicating about the chance to start again. We had a difficult week, but it was a BEAUTIFUL Sunday. I'm grateful for the chance to start again.

Every day of our lives is filled with mistakes. Like it or not, we are constantly messing up... A thousand grape juice stains on Mom's new carpet that the workers just installed. And we know we'll never be able to come back home if she sees it, but how to clean freshly-spilled grape juice out of brand new carpet without just making an even bigger mess? We can't; that's what. And so we'll simply never be able to go home...

But there is an expert stain-cleaner; He has a beautiful smile, and all He wants is to help us be clean... He knows how to do it, and He already paid the price. "Do your best to clean it out, and I will do the rest." I scrub and scrub with all my might, but it's not coming out... I start to cry there as I clean, flooded with guilt and fear of the face of my mother and wondering why everyone else is so much better at stain-removal than me... And it doesn't get better. It only gets bigger. I feel like such a failure... So I crawl to the feet of that cleaner, in His white and stainless suit, and I bury my face into his knees and cry and cry and cry... Because all I ever do as I try hard to clean is make the grape stain worse.

"Patience, little one." He smooths my hair like Mom always did. "Be still and let me help you."

He gently takes my hand and shows me how to scrub just right. Applies new-formula grape juice remover, and all the stains come out. I marvel at the miracle...

The carpet's back to white, and I've learned to clean out the stains.

"Señor, where can I buy that carpet cleaner?"

He smiles His loving smile and leaves me with His card. "Just call me when you need me. We'll keep on putting that carpet back perfect."

I think with every passing grape juice stain, the Lord teaches me just how much I need Him. He teaches me the importance of repentance. The importance of the sacrament. And just how much I depend on Him for both. If my mamá knew how many times I've stained the carpet, she'd probably never let me in the house... But my Father does, and as much as He'd like to, He can't--no unclean thing can enter into the kingdom of God... I want to be His perfect daughter, and I don't want to stain His carpet. I don't want Him to see my stains. But I am always knocking over bottles. And I can't remove them on my own...

I am grateful for the sacrament. I have developed a dependence on that sacred ordinance. For me the Sacrament was always just bread and water...but now it has become a source a healing and peace--a chance to taste His living water and bread of life. I love my Savior for the way He always seems to HEAL me as I beg Him to... For the promise that, if I do my part, I can leave the chapel on Sunday a purer person with renewed energy and renewed hopes. La Santa Cena truly is healing for the soul... Sundays are our chance for new beginnings.

Antonia was baptized yesterday. All of her family was there to support her, even those who aren't members or who haven't entered the church in many, many years. She hates wearing skirts, but she looked so beautiful in her new Sunday dress and simply radiated pureness.. There is so much symbolism in the white baptism and temple clothing. The Lord offers to purify us as we do all we can to purify ourselves first, too. Antonia glowed as she walked reverently in that little white dress down the halls of the Church. Then she sat with her feet dangling off the edge of the bench, still too little to touch the floor. Occasionally, she'd look over at me at the piano and flash me a smile... Eight year old Antonia overcame her fear of the water and chose instead to follow Jesus Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than watching a pure little child come unto Christ through  baptism. Nothing matters more than those incredibly sacred ordinances. Baptism is our chance for new beginnings. He offers each of us the chance to start again.

Someday, we will all be resurrected. We will come forth perfected from the grave... Clean and pure and ready to meet our God. As was that perfect Easter morning, it will be a day of new beginnings--of hellos and reunions and the glory of our God. And in those perfect bodies...we will find ourselves before Him. We will be that brand new carpet that the installers just put in. We will be white. We will be pure. On the outside.

But Christ has given us the sacrament--the ordinance of baptism--so that in that perfect body, that newly-installed carpet, we will also be free of stains.

I live my life spilling my grape juice. I live my life messing up. I am not a perfect person. But I am grateful for the master Cleaner--the master Healer--who is always more than willing to give me the chance to start again. He is the Endless Spring, the Eternal Sunday... All that He asks of each of us is a broken heart and a contrite spirit...and the willingness to try one more time to carry that juice without spilling.

A stainless life, then, doesn't mean we didn't spill it.

It only means that He loves us enough to help us clean it every time we did.

It's thanks to Him that we will be able to return to the presence of the Father--white and stainless carpet, in perfected. glorious bodies... Thanks to a Savior who has cleaned up all our spills.

I have always loved the springtime. It's the season of new beginnings, of second chances, of adventure and a thousand open doors. And it's a time of healing. A spring of cleaning.

He lives...to help us erase the stains of our winter.

I love Him. I thank the Father for the cleansing and eternal spring-time gift of His Son.


I love you all! Have a wonderful week! :)

Love,
Hermana Sanford

Springtime in Viña del Mar

Baptism font selfies :)

Antonia Jorquera on her baptism day

Antonia with the Hermanas who helped prepare
her for baptism

Antonia's entire family came to her baptism

Antonia's siblings

Antonia with the Hermanas and her family

Antonia and her parents

Many members of the Rama Chorrillos supported Antonia at her baptism

With the Familia Lopez

With the Familia Caballero

With Familia Castillo

Almuerzo with the Familia Castillo

with Hna. Kessler at the home
of the Familia Castillo

Missionaries gathered for auditions for the mission
Christmas musical program--El Coro de Navidad

with Hna. Rohmer at the auditions. 

In one of her voice recordings, Morgan said she is super bummed because she will miss the Mission Christmas musical program by only a couple of weeks. "But it's okay cuz I love you guys and I've missed you, plus also it will be nice to be home and spend Christmas with you....." (nice save Morgan... Glad you have a consolation prize to look forward to.... ;)

springtime in Chorrillos

Sometimes when you smile at people, they start to smile back. #Changingtheworldalittleatatime.

I believe in a God of miracles. He amazes me. I know He lives, and I know He has a hand in our lives.  I know, because I saw it this week. He blessed us in so many ways.

First of all, Antonia Jorquera will be getting baptized next Sunday (she's 8 years old, so it doesn't count as our baptism, but we've been teaching her the lessons and helping her get ready), Loreto is doing SO well, and God is humbling the people we love. Let's not jump the gun, but here's a little story about His hand in our lives here in Chile.:)

It's been three weeks since the last time we saw or spoke to Mauricio. But we were preparing on Thursday for a branch activity on Friday and decided that evening to stop by and invite them to come. We had almost forgotten to go, but Hna Kessler remembered in the nick of time and we headed down the opposite side of the hill than we had originally planned. Twenty steps later, and a silver car drives past. It's Mauricio. He rolls down the window, pulls over to the curb, and says, "Oye, chiquillas--something terrible happened. My mom is really sick... They discovered in her a muscular disease this morning that could potentially leave her bedridden for the rest of her life..."

Poor Mauricio. He looked so close to tears... He told us the whole story in medical terms that I couldn't retell if I tried, and we said, "You know what, we were actually just on our way to your house." In the end we didn't deliver the invitation, but a miracle happened instead. "Yeah, go," he said. "Go to my house and see her. She's really, really sad." It was obvious that he was, too. So we went. He arrived 5 seconds after we did. We all went in the house.

Mauricio went upstairs to his room, and poor Cecilia just looked at us and started to talk--she told us EVERYTHING. Everything, everything, everything. For an hour, we just sat there and listened, expressing support where we could and trying to lift her spirits... We testified of the temple, of the reality of eternal families, of God's perfect plan for us, and of the strength that He can give us in our trials. Then she said something that amazed me.

"You know what, hermanas," she said, "there are difficult times ahead. It's gonna be hard--I'm not gonna lie. But I know God will help me, I know it will all be okay, and if suffering means that my son will start believing in God, so be it. I'll do it. He hasn't got a heart, my Mauricio."

Natalia cut it and said,"No, Mom; that's not true. He was upstairs crying."

Hna Kessler felt a few weeks earlier to share a General Conference talk with their family, so we asked if we could--Natalia yelled for Mauricio, and he came down to help.

The Hope of God's Light.

A peace filled that home...and Mauricio listened.

Cecilia thanked us for arriving in the nick of time--in the absolutely perfect moment. We thanked Heavenly Father. She invited us back on Sunday night. We agreed. And we went.

On Sunday night she was asleep, but Mauricio came out to greet us. I've never seen a face so worried and sad... Something is changing in him.

Cecilia's right. I'm amazed by her faith. And I'm amazed by God's plan...

"Leave him," He said, "for a while." So we did. And he's still a little left, but we're going to teach Cecilia. We're going to strengthen her faith. And we're sure that he will listen.

God creates needs because He loves us. He doesn't want us to think we can do it by ourselves because He doesn't want us to. He knows that we'll be a thousand times better if we do it with His help. So He sends us trials and challenges to show us that we can't. To show us that we need a help that's a thousand times bigger than ourselves. And then when we ask Him, He HELPS us.

We fasted for a miracle for Mauricio. God helped him find work. He let him believe for a while that he had done it on his own... But then come the challenges that he can't solve by himself. And he came out of the house looking devastated.

When Natalia called for him to come back inside, he looked quite a bit better. He had a peace in his face that I'm sure only comes from the Spirit.

I trust in God´s timing. I trust in His plan... And I know He's working miracles here in Chorrillos. Pray for Mauricio. Pray for Natalia. And pray for Cecilia, who deserves a gold star for her courage and faith... She amazes me. I love being a missionary.

This work is moving forward. And the hope of God's light fills the lives of the broken... It is healing them. And it is healing me.

Have a wonderful week! I love you so much!

Con Todo Mi Amor,
Hermana Sanford

Progression of a Viña del Mar sunset

Rocio, Perla's daughter, is the cutest baby in Chile

When a grammar nerd missionary goes to Viña she notices misspelled words in the graffiti... ;)

#typo ;)

Cool stairs

Take a STAND.

Viña del Mar sunset

Satan is the great midst of darkness that surrounded the people clinging to the iron rod. He is the haze that blocks our view, the fear that limits our faith--the pride that limits our progress. He is the flared tempers and the angry outbursts, the harsh words that wound--the broken promises and unfaithfulness and lies. He is the author of all sin...and the author of all sadness. He rages in our hearts according to the hold that he can get upon them--the hold that we would give to him. Satan was our brother...but he is not our friend. He is intent on destroying our happiness--and he is intent on destroying us. He has become the common enemy.

If we're going to beat The Enemy, it's important to know who he is. It's important to know what he does and how he works...and it's important to know how to beat him.

Satan is the father of lies. He sneaks through the door and whispers that good is all bad, that bad is all good, and that we can be happy while breaking the commandments. He whispers lies about others, and lies about ourselves...and they're subtle enough that we often give in and believe them. He is the voice that says we're not important. That we'll never be worthy to change. That our Father has already lost His faith in us. That we can do what want without consequence. But he lies.

Satan is the father of fear--he fights against faith. He is that seedling of doubt when we're about to share the gospel, when we're about to make a friend, when we're about to take a step. He is the one that whispers not to trust in God...that stops us from getting to the temple and stops us from choosing the right. He is the one that says, "But what if...? when the Spirit will always whisper, "But why not?" And he is usually the reason behind every broken promise and missed chance and wasted opportunity that we dashed because we doubted. He is the fear to say "I'm sorry." The fear to make it right. He is the fear to reach our potential. The fear of faith--and the fear of failure.

Satan is the king of confusion. He blurs all our answers and clouds up our minds... He is that knot in the pit of your stomach and the dark, raging mists and the stress-induced headache--the lack of peace that does NOT come from the Spirit. He is the raging attack that comes after we've felt the Spirit or received revelation from God. Maybe he comes as a whirlwind, or maybe he sneaks like a gas leak, but either way, the effects of his warfare are fatal. He incites us to lose confidence in what's right. He blurs our vision and makes it hard to see. He creates a haze that we alone could never penetrate...a heavy mist that doesn't lift with the rain. Where instead of winning the race, we head back to the stands to sit down, because in a moment of haze, we forgot why we ran, and the fatigue became all we could see... But then the fog clears, and we realize what we've done. We realize all we've lost... We see all the time we've wasted. And I know, because it's happened to me. Hang on to the spiritual impressions. "If it was right then, it's right now." Confusion is NOT a gift of the Spirit.

Satan is the king of distraction. And it's the biggest tool he's got. Break out the modern warfare... He is every text you've ever gotten at mutual, every time you checked your phone in sacrament meeting, every time you forgot to say your prayers... He is the "I'll read my scriptures tomorrow" and the "I'll repent next Sunday" and the "We're too busy for Family Home Evening today..." He shifts our focus from the good to the not-so-important, and he makes the bad look even more desirable. He makes us forget what we "came here to do in the first place."   That instead of running the race, we run off to chase butterflies and catch one for our sister... And the butterflies are great, but we realize too late--after the race is over and the crowds have all gone home--that the trophy would have meant a lot more to both her and to you than the butterflies you may or may not have caught. He is the reason we don't get things done. All he wants is for us to forget... Like we forgot that one time that we passed through the veil, all his energies are intent on keeping us from remembering again.

Sometimes I forget that my mind is a battlefield. Sometimes I forget that my heart is one, too...  But sometimes, when I remember, I can see the battle there. I hear the cannons and feel the shouting, and it makes me want to fight. I see him now in the mist of darkness and the decoys and distractions. I see him in the doubts and in the fears. And he will always be there, but if I see him, I can beat him...because God will always win. And if I stand with Him, I will win here, too.

 "Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

 "Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; and for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel,

 "For which I am an ambassador in bonds: that therein I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak." (Ephesians 6:10-20)

The only way to overcome our enemy is to stand up and fight him. The only way to survive his attacks is to shield ourselves against them. But if we stand up as witnesses, as ambassadors in bonds, and put on the armor of God...we will withstand in these últimos días--and having done all, we will triumph.

And having done all, we will WIN.

Satan is the father of lies...the father of fear. He is the king of confusion, the king of distraction, the author of sin. But our Enemy is weak. He has holes in his armor just like we do in ours. He is angry and fearful and confused and distracted. And we? We are children of God.

If we can see him, we can win.

Read the scriptures. Say your prayers. Then take the time to see him.

I love you all! Have a wonderful week!:)

Con Amor,
Hermana Sanford

Viña del Mar sunset reflection

7° Valdivia--our house is at the top of this hill

7° Valdivia--the houses of Chorrillos

View of Viña del Mar from Chorrillos

When you live on a mountain, heavy rain
makes a river out of your road

Close-up of the "river" bed

That awkward moment when your companion

holds up your tights and you realize that

they're as big as SHE is... Haha! ;)

Hna. Kessler likes to pray under the table :D

I decided this week to go on a diet...So I splurged and bought some cardboard cereal.:)

Reunion with Hna Mariscal, my trainer, at Consejo

I received GOLD this week in the form of letters from the sweetest young women at Laurel's Conference... I felt, as soon as I read them, that I needed to write this letter to them, so Sunset 4th Ward Young Women, please know how much I love you. Thank you for your faith, your example, and for all you do to serve the Lord. I thought about all that I would tell you if I was there--I would give you all a big hug, tell you all that I love you and that I've missed your smiling faces, and I would probably sit down with each one of you and share a few of the things that I've learned.

I LOVE being a missionary. This has been the best year and two months of my life. I hope every one of you who is thinking about it takes the leap and decides to go...and that those of you who aren't thinking about it start. A mission will change your life. It will change your eternity. And it will change you.

Life is a series of goodbyes. There are many kinds. There's the "see you later" kind...the "maybe someday we'll run into each other again," the one where we might if it's not too much trouble. There's the "see you soon" of good friends who have plans to do so...the "soon" because anything longer would simply be too long. There's the "until we meet" of the doubt that we ever will... The "farewell" of a broken-hearted lover, and the "take care" of a departing friend... The "goodbye" of a one last hug...the "until then" with its promise of forever.

The mission taught me to say goodbye. It taught me not to fear the loving for the fear of losing... I always lived in caution, but here I learned to breathe. I learned to hug much tighter and shake a hand much harder. I smile a little brighter... I learned the eye gleam of a happy heart and the down-cast gaze of an aching one. I learned to say "I love you"...and do what it takes to mean it. And I learned to trust in the Lord my  goodbyes. Cuz you'll never learn to love if you choose to guard your heart. You'll never learn to love if you choose to fear the ending.

I learned to take risks on my mission. To overcome fear of rejection. To say "yes or no, it doesn't matter--I'm going to try it anyway." I learned that you've got to risk what's most preciouse to gain what matters more. That safe isn't better than happy and that love is ALWAYS worth the risk. I overcame my fear of opening my heart. It's easier sharing with everyone...and if they say "no," at least I will be better for it. I learned to defend my beliefs...and I learned how to jump. You'll never learn to swim if you never take the leap.

I learned to say, "I'm sorry." That it's better to be okay than to be right... That pride is the voice that doesn't ask forgiveness, and Christ's is the one that doesn't need to, but that always, always does. That we can't have the Spirit when there's contention; that we can't serve the Lord when there is... That even when it hurts, we should let them speak their side, because "I'm sorry" will always be better than "I'm right." And a grudge is NEVER worth losing over.

I learned that speaking is an art... That you should never go too fast. That it's just as important to listen as it is to love... Look them in the eye. Show them that they're worth it... Show them that you care. That you love them enough to HEAR them. I learned here to speak slowly and listen long... To choose wisely your words and choose peace before anger... That a bit of caution never hurt anybody, but a wisely chosen word can change a broken life. It can heal a broken heart.

I learned to HEAR on my mission. That silence is an art, like breathing--and that a well-placed silence can open hidden chambers of the soul... That you can never search too hard to find a good listener. They're far and few between...but they're worth it. This is a world drowning in people who just need someone to listen--who just need someone to HEAR them. My Father always hears my prayers... I learned to take the time to hear the prayers of others.

I learned how to lead on my mission, and I learned how to follow. That both are equally important. That we're not called to lead from in front or trail along behind, but He calls us to be a team, and sometimes He asks us to lead from behind...and sometimes He asks us to FOLLOW. And when He bids us follow Him...what could possibly be better? To follow is not to trail along in silence... It is sustain, support, encourage, and strengthen. It is the cheerleader and the backup. It is the second testimony. That in Christ's gospel, the leader and the follower walk side by side. They are a team, just as our Savior...He always, always walks with us.

I learned how to cry on my mission...and I learned how to HEAL. I learned how to let Him heal me...and how to ask Him to. I learned that, although I've never watched the blind receive their sight, He heals me every day... He heals the wounds of sin in me and takes away the scars...and every time I break, He puts me back together. I don't know how He does it, but I do know that He does.... and that is miracle enough for me. The Atonement is miracle enough for me. The Fall: Making perfect things imperfect since the beginning of time... Christ's Atonement is what puts them back perfect.

I learned how to FEEL on my mission. A depth of emotion I never even knew back at home... A thousand theater classes never taught me how to get it, but here, the Spirit did. I learned how to ache and to break and to fall right apart... And I learned how to sing...to smile so big that my porcelain mask falls off...to wet my eyes with tears of joy... I learned what it means to rejoice, and to marvel, and to stand all amazed. I learned what it is to see His touch in me, and the Spirit is a thousand depths of pure emotion I never experienced before. I learned how to feel on my mission.

Sometimes it's hard to say goodbye to characters you love... But sometimes it's necessary. Sometimes it's part of the plan. Sometimes it's part of the plot... We'll see them again a hundred pages from now...Quizás. And the beauty of it all is that there's "maybe"...

On Saturday, we left Mauricio. The Spirit said to do it, so we did. When He speaks, we can't say "no." We did our part...we gave him ALL we could. Perhaps right now is not his time. But it will be "Someday", it will be. I find strength in the Lord's plan for me. I know He loves, and I know He loves ALL of His children. It's hard to say goodbye to someone you love like a brother...to a family who gave you their heart and asked you to keep it, but, three months later:

I learned how to TRUST on my mission. I learned how to let Him be right. I learned to say "I'm sorry" every time I fail, and I learned to let Him heal me. I learned to trust His plan. That I cannot control everything...and that even when I'd try, He loosens my grip on the bike handles and takes my whitened knuckls and reminds me that it all will be okay... Just to trust in His plan and His timing, and if that means saying "goodbye" to the characters we love...I trust in His plan, that I'll see them again; that, like Inkheart, they'll come alive in my life and not only live in the pages of my diary. Someday, Mauricio will make it. He got so close. We fought so hard for him.

But God loosened my grip on the bike handles. He helped me to say goodbye.

I learned how to brake on my mission (pun intended)...But He always heals me. And I learned how to feel. I learned how to love.

Life is a series of goodbyes. There's the goodbye we say when we ask them to leave...and the one that they say when the ask us to. But there's also the "someday"...and the bitter-sweet risk. And the promise that the heart never ends, even when the distance does. There's the "see you soon" of friends with faraway plans...the "see you later" of friends without.

But the concept remains the same.

In the words of President Uchtdorf, we are not made for endings. We are made of the stuff of eternity.

So we wait. And we trust. That is this glorious gospel, no ending is ever final.

And no goodbye...will ever be "The End."


I love you!
Hermana Sanford

A visit with Licia and the APs in Agua Santa
during intercambios with Hna. Coray

Luis, a recent convert, was ordained to
the Aaronic priesthood in church

Rain for almost one week straight

wet. all the way through.

My teensy companion even more wet

Sopaipillas with Herminia

Traditional Chilean sopaipillas are made with
sweet potatoes and deep fried like scones

August Consejo de Lideres

Reporting our monthly stats at Consejo

CCM District 5-C reunion at Consejo

Because knee problems. Knees that ache all the time:
sitting, standing, walking, sleeping.

Our door got swollen because of the humidity from
the rain and we could NOT get it closed. Haha.