Remember last Monday when I said I was going to Lewisville? Well. Have I got a story for you. Wednesday (transfer day), I made it safely and soundly to my new area, a tidy place called Flower Mound (we call it FloMo for funzies). Now, my last area, Hurst South (River Trails) was a complete ghetto. I killed 4 cockroaches that found their way into the apartment that smelled like cigarette smoke (which, by the way, drenched my clothes in that smell, so as I get into FloMo, my companion says "Sister, why do you smell like a casino?") and I was used to people being interested in talking to us only because they figured they could get some money from the "church ladies."
Flower Mound is the precise antithesis thereof.
Every neighborhood is like Montecito and Beverly Hills had a baby in Texas. The homes are huge, my apartment is nice (I have a gym and I don't have to kill cockroaches). I can't tell you the kind of shock I experienced after my first lesson teaching a wealthy woman.
Now here's where it gets twisted.
Friday (my second day in FloMo) I get a call from President Ames. Lemme tell ya, getting a call from the mission president is like driving by the cops. You may not be doing anything wrong, but you're still apprehensive, checking yourself, making sure you're perfect. Undaunted, I answer the phone:
"Hello! This is Sister Gunson!"
"Hi SIster Gunson, this is President Ames."
"Hi President, what can we do for you?"
"Well, this is kind of an interesting call for me to make. Sister Gunson. this call is for you."
Not gonna lie, I thought he was going to tell me Enzo had died.
"Alright President, what do you need?"
"Sister Gunson... You're being transferred. To Denton."
"Yes. To Denton."
"... Denton, huh?.... Sounds great!"
Out of respect for the situation that called me out to Denton, I won't say much more than duty has called on me to be a slinky. This one year at Girls Camp, the YCL's had a cheer to remind us to be flexible. It went: "BE. A SLINKY. BE-BE A SLINKY!" Just to remind us to bounce back from whatever adversity we're in the midst of in that moment.
They say you're not called to a specific area -- rather, you're called to be a missionary and you get put wherever you'd do more good than damage. There's an awful lot of peace knowing that the Lord's will is being done. As I've said before, all that's left for us to do is to decide whose side we're on.
I now serve in the Denton zone, Justin Ward area. It, too, is a drastic change from the neat and spacious homes of FloMo. It is pure country. To get to anywhere, we need to first cross fields upon fields of wild sunflowers and pastures. I saw a cow and excitedly moo'ed (because my mom does that and I decided to keep the memory) and it was quickly made apparent that if I moo'ed every time I saw a cow here in Denton, I wouldn't have time to teach. We technically live outside of our area, right next to the Texas Motor Speedway and every Friday, I'm going to go to sleep listening to the soothing sounds of "VROOOOOOOOOOM VROOM VROOOOOOOOOMMMMM." I teach in everything from trailer parks to rancher mansions and I never thought I'd say this but I am RIGHT AT HOME. For whatever reason, I'm in love with this wild country.
This goin' be fuuuuuuun.
Love, Sister Gunson
PS: I'm in the same zone-ish thing as Elder Mann. *fist pump*
Hannah's new address is:
8299 Small Block Road #622
Roanoke, TX 76262