welcome home elder palmer!

Selamat pagi! First things first ... Welcome Home Elder Palmer! I know you were an amazing missionary and that the people in Japan are missing you like crazy! (Someone please dearelder me with Matt's address. My MTC address is listed on the right side of my blog. Thank you!)

Sorry there's nothing way interesting this week. But, I am officially half-way through the MTC! And my ankle is almost normal size again! It really is a miracle. I walk with a little bit of a limp (and there's some nasty nasty bruising), but the physical therapists are shocked that I've come so far in a week. Well, they're shocked and they're not ... they said that there's this amazing thing about the MTC. Every injury they see takes half as long to heal as it does in "the real world." I like it. Gym time (which is every day) is now physical therapy time for me. I hated it at first but it's helping so much that it's hard to hate it anymore.

Ok so TRC last week. No one showed up (no one ever does for us. There are like five Malay speakers in Provo other than our teachers.) so we talked to our very own Bro Maynes! He was being a goof as usual so we were all laughing the whole time we were speaking in Malay, which turned out being exactly what we needed. No pressure=our Malay was flowing. We were just cracking jokes and having a grand old time inviting this "investigator" to come to church with us. Then, we taught lesson 2 (Plan of Salvation) to a girl in English. Totally committed her to being baptized (it's all practice. Even though she's already a member of the church I still almost cried when she said she would ... can't wait for the real thing).

Sunday's fireside was pretty awesome. The main thing I got from it wasn't anything the speaker talked about though. It just suddenly hit me out of the blue, that I want to do therapy with teenage girls at risk. That's it. Feeling great about it. I love the Holy Ghost!

Tuesday was a BIG day. We had our first SYL (speak your language) day. Obviously we speak bahasa every day, but this was a no English allowed day. And my brain was so messed up by the end of it. I had to re-write a sentence four times in my journal that night (writing in English, I couldn't figure out sentence structure). It was crazy hard but more encouraging than discouraging. I found out that I know a lot of Malay! It was pretty cool for all of us to see what we're capable of.

Have I told anything about my sisters? I love them. Sister Jensen and I are getting a little nervous that we won't get another chance to serve with each other in the field. We are very different people but we compliment each other and we do have a lot in common. I'm so glad I got a companion who I actually like being around. (Dax: she's basically my Szekely.) Sister Kubota: our Hawaiian auntie. She knows how to keep everyone in line but she's hilarious and I love her. When she starts laughing (only her crazy-eye laugh) there is no chance for me. We have so much fun. She has a killer testimony too and I can't wait till the field when we'll (hopefully) get to be companions. Sister Ferguson: Fergie Ferg. Our Maryland Sister. She's a genius and so so funny. And she snores super loud which makes all of us laugh at night (only a few times. we're good about no talking after 10:15). And introducing our new sister: Sister Wright! She's going to Tonga and she got in yesterday, but she's a solo sister ... with a solo elder ... which creates sticky situations. So she's in our classroom any time there's no teacher in hers. We love her already.

Our Malagasy elders are leaving next week. Some of them are like brothers to me and it's going to be so sad when they leave, but I'm excited for them to get out there and do some work. NATALIE, your little bro will be in the classroom right next to mine! That's so exciting, thank you for telling me! I will be sure to go welcome him. SARAH WESTOVER .. .You didn't give me your full address so your letter was returned to me. Is it street or road ... what? send me a dearelder with it please :)

That's all I have time for folks! Super enthralling right? Let me leave you all with a little commitment ;) Conference this weekend (it feels like Christmas, that's how excited I am): write down some questions you have about anything in your life, pray about them. I promise the Holy Spirit will bring you your answers.

I love you all!

Dengan kasih,

Sister Norton

HFI

(Note from Mikelle's Mom ~ Mikelle keeps asking me to send her a dearelder.com with any comments made on her blog ... and um, yeah ... I haven't seen any?? So please ... make a comment someone ... anyone :) Thank you.

uhhhh guys? chad fell down.

I write to you this rainy Saturday morning with a baseball-sized lump on the side of my ankle. Why, you ask? Because I didn't listen to all the warnings of "never play volleyball without your ankle braces. (Especially with a bunch of Tongan elders)." But we can start this exciting week back on Saturday.

This week has definitely been a struggle. I just read through my journal and I kid you not, every other day is different. If I felt like I had a good day on Monday, you better believe that Tuesday was crap. Wednesday would be good and look out for Thursday. You get the picture. On Saturday, I decided to fast for a few personal reasons. Without going into detail, we can just sum it up by saying I'm trying to get out of my own head and maybe humble myself a little. It was really rough and maybe I was beating myself up a little more than I needed to. My teacher is oh so wise and sat me and Sister Jensen down to talk to us. We told him that we were studying pride and humility and we get it, we see the need for it, but we don't understand how to do it. Brother Maynes said, "Sisters, if you can't think of any ways to humble yourselves, do you think that feeling of inadequacy is from the Lord??" Blew my mind. I know I have a great work to do out here and I'm not through the fight to get to it yet.

Maybe the rest of the week wasn't so bad until yesterday. I was playing volleyball in gym and went up to block a Tongan elder. I was tight, he was tight, so you can guess what happened. The second I heard the popping noises in my ankle, I thought I was done. No more Singapore, no more MTC. (Maybe a bit dramatic). Then I hit the ground and just lied there thinking how stupid it was. I was really angry. I don't get mad but I was like fuming. Not at anyone but myself. To add to the humor, the trainers rush over and tell the elders to help me into the wheel chair and I heard a bunch of them say, "We don't know if we can touch her!" Now I am all for following rules, don't get me wrong, but there are exceptions, elders! Get me into the dang chair!! Turns out I have a 2nd degree sprain and maybe a few frayed ligaments. But it will be fine and it won't affect my departure date at all. So if I wanted to be humbled, I guess prayers are answered ;) I hate having people help me, so it's not going to be my favorite thing having the sisters in my district carry everything for me for the next little bit.

Here's where the love comes though. I have an amazing zone of elders. The elder who took me out got me a get better card and wouldn't stop asking what he could do for me. All the elders were offering the same thing. I asked for a priesthood blessing and my zone leaders gave it to me, but Elder Lefrandt asked if he could hop in on it too. I don't know why he did, but I'm so grateful for it. I still connect him to Dax a little bit (plus he looks and acts like Cody), so it was just comforting. Look here folks. The priesthood power is the same power from God that Jesus Christ gave to his apostles when He was here on earth. It's one of the main reasons I'm out here, because if this church didn't have that same power, it wouldn't be true. And why would I waste my time trying to spread a message that isn't true? I know that God is our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ is our Savior through the loving act of the Atonement, but what hope would we have to follow their plan if this gospel wasn't restored in its entirety? When I received that blessing, those elders weren't the ones speaking. I heard what they said but the Holy Ghost was whispering everything else I needed to hear. God wants me to succeed in all the struggles I'm having right now and I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity to always be faced with this challenges so I can learn from them and grow stronger and smarter.

Now let's see if you can help me a bit. I don't communicate well. When I'm teaching, I can get the doctrine, that's great and all, but I don't connect with the people I'm teaching. I love them, I'm teaching out of charity and my love for my Savior, but I can't figure out what things I need to ask to help lead them to the doctrine. As much as I say to them, it's not going to internalize until the Spirit teaches them. So, any advice would be gladly accepted. Send me a dearelder.com ~

Sister Mikelle Dionne Norton

MTC Mailbox # 84

SING-APR 0505

2005 N 900 E

Provo, UT 84604-1793

(My MTC address is also listed on the right side of this blog for future reference.)

Cool Malay fact. We say we feel things in our "hati". I thought this meant heart, because they use it in all the places they would use heart. Nope! It means liver. Man my people are cool. So with a very happy liver, I send my love to you all. You're in my prayers and I know God is watching over you.

Dengan kasih,

Sister Norton

HFI

greetings from hogwarts!

Here's a little update. We have officially been sorted. Serindipitously there are four sisters in our district ... four houses ... get it? Ok so Sister Kubota was called to Slytherin (ha! called? mtc brain), Sister Fergusen to Ravenclaw, Sister Jensen to Hufflepuff (with some disputation), and I'm GRYFFINDOR!! Oh baby.

I've come up with a timeline to chart out our language progress:

Week 1: Deer in headlights. English fully intact. No speak Malay.

Week 2: Language limbo. Still no speak Malay. No speak English no more.

Week 3: English more bad. Saya pandai bercakap Bahasa Malay!

Pretty much no one would understand me over there though, my vocabulary consists largly of English idioms and colloquialisms translated into Malay, such as: "Kata untuk ibu kamu!" (word to your mother) or "Saya tidak tahu kehidupan kamu!" (I don't know your life). It's highly intelligent. We've also found that I speak in an Indian accent by default when I speak Malay. Basically we're just having a lot of fun making witty little jokes and sayings. I have caught on to some actual Malay idioms though. Like "it's only a peanut" or "we are a circle of voice."

So, the other two sisters in our branch leave for Indonesia on Monday; the four of us will be the only sisters in our branch! That's right, branch. That's big folks. Basically I'm getting spoiled wrotten, I never have to open up doors or take my tray back after meals. Tis the life. I am going to miss the Indonesian district though. It's so weird to think they won't be here anymore! Soon the Malagasy district will leave, then the Fijians ... then the Samoans. Then we'll be all alone!! Who will Sister Kubota and I play volleyball with?? (My jump serve is well on it's way back.)

Speaking of the meals. Don't worry, Mama. I eat all my greens. Greens are all I eat ... I strongly dislike most of the food here, so I have them make me a spinach salad at the wrap bar for basically every meal. We don't need to talk about the jolly ranchers that are my salvation in class though.

We had our first TRC appointment last week. For those of you who don't know, that's an opportunity to practice teaching the gospel to "investigators." We had to start out getting to know them in Malay. Fail. Then we switched into English and it went much better. I'm just excited to get another try this week. Oh except this week we have to teach them to pray in Malay! Wooohoo.

Malay. I really like Malay. Like possibly more than Chinese. It's just the coolest language ever. We found out that we'll never really be teaching people whose first language is Malay because all native speakers are Muslim and we're not allowed to teach them in Malaysia. So, I am just keeping my fingers crossed that I get a ton of people who speak Malay AND Mandarin. I think I could teach a wicked first lesson if I switched back and forth between the two.

THANK YOU for the update on Japan. I was worried about Matt, but they did tell us that all the missionaries were safe. It is weird because it's not like we've seen any pictures of it. We've heard it's bad, but that's all we have to go on. You better believe that the people of Japan have been in all our prayers. God looks out for his missionaries. The reason none of them were hurt was they had headed inland for a zone conference. Keep praying for them please!

I ran into more friends this past week! I swear I've seen at least ten people I know. Logan Law teaches here so I saw him, then William Lam, and then Clark Manwaring ... excuse me, Elder Manwaring! He came in last Wednesday and he's headed to Mexico.

AMAZING SUNDAY last week. Don't have time to explain, but Joseph Smith was a prophet of God! Read the JSH if you haven't in a while.

Thank you for the 1/2 birthday package papa!! I hope you all enjoyed my card ... to myself ... to you :)

I'm so grateful that I get to learn to teach in this language. This gospel is beautiful and simple. Learning to teach it in another language forces me to teach it simply. God is our Father in Heaven. He has a plan for us to return to Him. He loves us and sent His Son to die so we can live with Him again. I love it! And I love you all! Please feel free to send me dearelders :) I want to beat Sister Kubota someday. Oh, and tell Zak Corbridge I'm looking for him if you see him!

Dengan kasih,

Sister Norton

HFI

when I whisper it sounds like parseltongue!

Apa Khabar, Keluarga Saya!!

I survived my first week in the MTC!! I can't believe it's only been a week. It feels like at least a month. I don't really know where to start ... this place is real awesome! My companion is Sister Jensen (St. George girl that I already met before coming here) and we are a pretty great team! We work well together and we're pretty determined to kick this language's butt. Malay: So the Chinese lady that told me "Malay much harder than Mandarin!" So wrong! Or maybe it's just the gift of tongues ... but for real, after a week here, I am speaking more Malay than I learned in six months living in China. To get a better idea of what this crazy awesome language sounds like, we are grouped with the missionaries going to Tonga, Fiji, Samoa, Mongolia, Madagascar, and Indonesia. And that's a branch pretty much ... throw in some ESL districts and call it a game. Anyway, it sounds like a mixture of Arabic sounding stuff and Island sounding stuff, and I feel pretty sick when I speak it, not gonna lie. So far I can pray, bear testimony, and do some basic contacting. Our district is killer! We've got four sisters. That's it. It's unique and so great. Me, Sister Jensen, Sister Kubota, and Sister Ferguson. We make an awesome team. Daxy poo! Guess who is in my branch and the classroom right next to mine? One Elder Lefrandt, headed to Madasgascar. He happens to be the little brother of the former Elder Lefrandt who you might know. Cool huh?

I guess you want a little rundown of my schedule, eh mommy? Well, Sister J and I wake up at 6 every morning and go to the exercise class (pilates, kickboxing, yoga, aerobics, etc), then we get ready and have personal study at 7. Then breakfast, companion study, and then it's a 13 hour day from there, filled with language study, preach my gospel study, mdt (it's where you get to decide what you study and learn by yourself ... we usually end up studying bahasa.), gym time ... awesome devotionals, branch meetings, district meetings, large group meetings ... and by the time I lie down at 10:30, it is no wonder that I'm not struggling too much with insomnia anymore. It is hard and frustrating and mind-blowing and awesome and so exciting all at the same time. And I really am loving it so much!!

I may have injured my companion in our first day of gym ... we were playing a little bit of volleyball and one of my serves hit her wrist. Now Sister Kubota and I are the only sisters that play volleyball during gym. Oops! I felt so bad! She's a tough cookie though, so she's fine. I am brushing up on my game though. Most of the elders are polynesian, and Sister K is Hawaiian. Makes for some pretty intense games.

DAX. I CAN'T WRITE CHARACTERS ANYMORE. PLEASE WRITE ME A LETTER IN CHINESE EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE SO I CAN KEEP IT UP. Pleeeeaaaase. Tolonglah!

I don't know what else to say to you all ... it's great! Life's great! Our Heavenly Father loves us! It's all pretty cool. Write me some dearelders if you want (the other sisters get like five a day. Sister Jensen and I console each other, it's all good).

Here's a little kasaksian for you (testimony) ~

Saya tahu bahawa Allah adalah Bapa kita di Syurgah. Saya tahu Yesus Kristus adalah jerusalamat dan penebus kita. Korban Tebusannya boleh membawa kedemaian kepada kita. Saya tahu Kitab Mormon firman Allah. Berbacalah itu! Saya tahu bahawa Allah mengasihi kita. Dalam nama Yesus Kristus, Amin.

I love you all and will write next week!

Dengan kashi,

Sister Norton

HFI

i become a missionary tomorrow??

I really should have written this post last night when I knew everything that I wanted to say. Now I'm kind of doing it because I know that I wanted to last night, and it's kinda getting to be the last chance to write for a little bit. If you were wondering what my thoughts on this might be, please read on.

My life seems pretty near-perfect right now. I am completely overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from my family and friends and ward members. My last few weeks have been sublime thanks to everyone else. This kind of leads me (only a few times) to the thought of "why in the world are you leaving right now when everything is so good?" Everything is so good because I'm leaving. And I don't mean that in the sense that everything will be good now that I'm gone (well, I shouldn't speak for others), but my Father knows me and He knows how to send me off the right way.

My "opportunity to speak in church before leaving on a mission" was wonderful. I was again overwhelmed by all the people that showed up to support me and wish me good luck. I was also reminded how happy it makes me to stand in front of people and open up my heart, bearing testimony of my Savior. It's kinda like this natural high I get. (Sorry if that's inappropriate?) But what's more exciting than standing as a witness? Sounds like I might be a little bit happy over the next 18 months.

It also might have been a little bit hard once everyone was cleared out last night and it started to set in that I'm leaving people. My mama is so wise and suggested that I'm focusing on things I think I'm losing, which is making me feel a void. I need to just look towards everything that's coming. Because it's going to be HUGE. And it's going to be awesome. And honestly that's exactly what I plan on doing. I hope no one back home takes this harshly, but I've decided this one thing about my mission: I don't do things half-hearted. If I'm going to do this (and I am), I am giving it every single bit of me that I can. I want to be absolutely exhausted at the end of every single day. Go big or go home. It's nice and cheesy but I told Jillian a few months ago that I plan on saying "Hurrah for Israel" every morning when I wake up. (Watch The Other Side of Heaven if you're confused.) I think I was kidding at first but I'm kind of not now. I might need to do it silently depending on my companion and whether or not they're thinking I'm insane, but I just want that reminder of my commitment at the start of each new day. Here's my heart, take and seal it.

I absolutely love this little passage that I found a few years ago when my brother was serving a mission, it's a little bit long so I'll put it at the end of the post so it's a little more optional-feeling. Shoot, what am I worried about? YOU chose to read my blog anyway, suck it up and read the whole post. Tough love, kids. Anyway, just ignore the whole gender specification. That's how I want to come back, except I'll still be a woman, don't worry.

Thank you for reading my ramblings for a little while. Don't miss them too much, I'll be back shortly.

Marks Of A Man

As I jumped on board my flight from Miami to Salt Lake City, I paused for a moment to catch my breath. Seated near the front of the plane was an excited young man, probably 19, sitting with his parents. His hair was short and his clothes new and sharp. His suit was fitted perfectly and his black shoes still retained that store bought shine. His body was in good shape, his face clear, and his hands clean. In his eyes I could see a nervous look, and his movements were that of an actor on opening night.
He was obviously flying to Utah to become a missionary for the Mormon Church. I smiled as I walked by and took pride in belonging to this same Church where these young men and women voluntarily serve the Savior for two years. With this special feeling, I continued to the back where my seat was located.
As I sat in my seat, I looked to the right and to my surprise, saw another missionary sleeping in the window seat. His hair was also short, but that was the only similarity between the two. This one was obviously returning home, and I could tell at a glance what type of missionary he had been.
The fact that he was already asleep told me a lot. His entire body seemed to let out a big sigh. It looked as if this was the first time in two years he had even slept, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was. As I looked at his face, I could see the heavy bags under his eyes, the chapped lips, and the scarred and sunburned face caused by the fierce Florida sun.
His suit was tattered and worn. A few of the seams were coming apart, and I noticed that there were a couple of tears that had been hand-sewn with a very sloppy stitch.
I saw the nametag, crooked, scratched and bearing the name of the Church he represented, the engraving of which was almost all worn away. I saw the knee of his pants, worn and white, the result of many hours of humble prayer.
A tear came to my eye as I saw the things that really told me what kind of missionary he had been. I saw the marks that made this boy, a man. His feet - the two that had carried him from house to house, now lay there swollen and tired. They were covered by a pair of worn-out shoes. Many of the large scrapes and gouges had been filled in by the countless number of polishings.
His books - laying across his lap were his scriptures, the word of God. Once new, these books which testify of Jesus Christ and His mission, were now torn, bent, and ragged from use.
His hands - those big, strong hands, which had been used to bless and teach, were now scarred and cut from knocking at doors.
Those were indeed the marks of that man. And as I looked at him, I saw the marks of another man, the Savior, as he was hanging on the cross for the sins of the world.
His feet - those that had once carried him throughout the land during his ministry, were now nailed to the cross.
His side - now pierced with a spear. Sealing his gospel, his testimony with his life.
His hands - the hands that had been used to ordain his servants and bless the sick were also scarred with the nails that were pounded to hang him on the cross.
Those were the marks of that great man.
As my mind returned to the missionary, my whole body seemed to swell with pride and joy, because I knew, by looking at him, that he had served his Master well.
My joy was so great, I felt like running to the front of the plane, grabbing that new, young missionary, and bringing him back to see what he can become, what he can do.
But would he see the things that I saw, could anyone see the things I saw? Or would he just see the outward appearance of that mighty elder, tired and worn out, almost dead.
As we landed, I reached over and tapped him to wake him up. As he awoke, it seemed like new life was entering his body. His whole frame just seemed to fill as he stood up, tall and proud. As he turned his face towards mine, I saw a light about his face that I had never seen before. I looked into his eyes. Those eyes, I will never forget those eyes. They were the eyes of a prophet, a leader, a follower, and a servant. They were the eyes of the Savior. No words were spoken. No words were needed.
As we unloaded, I stepped aside to let him go first. I watched as he walked, slow but steady, tired but strong. I followed him and found myself walking the way that he did. When I came through the doors, I saw this young man in the arms of his parents, and I couldn't hold it any longer.
With tears streaming down my face, I watched these loving parents greet their son who had been away for a short time. And I wondered if our parents in Heaven would greet us the same way. Will they wrap their arms around us and welcome us home from our journey on earth? I believe they will. I just hope that I can be worthy enough to receive such praise, as I'm sure this missionary will.
I said a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for missionaries like this young man. I don't think I will ever forget the joy and happiness he brought me that day.

David Bryan Wiser(?)

Sister Norton

check this out

Major New Study of Religion Has Much to Say About Mormons

salam

Dear Sister Norton:


You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Singapore Mission...


You should report to the Provo Missionary Training Center on Wednesday, March 2, 2011. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the Indonesian language.

Few things have ever felt so right as this letter did when I read it.

Yeeeaaah Singapore, here I come!