City Fever

Salutations!I am catching the DC fever. So many people who come out here asinterns end up coming back to stay for good. I might be one of thosepeople someday. It's either that or the Peace Core in Botswana.Sickness pulled me down this week, in health and a little bit inenthusiasm, but I am back on the up and up. Monday had me sick inbed. Tuesday I got up but wasn't in the mood to go to work. Too bad.That's the city way of life—you just keep going. My treat for makingit through the day was a trip to the Washington, DC temple. Thesingle's ward organized for us to do baptisms for the dead. I didn'tknow about it because I go to the inner city ward. How grateful I wasthat I happened to have a skirt on and my temple recommend handy whenI got the phone call to take the Metro for a ride to the temple.I was 12 years old when I went to do baptisms at The DC temple for thefirst time. 12 years later, with so many more experiences that havestrengthened my knowledge of the Plan of Salvation, the evening put mylife into perspective. We arrived so late that we actually didn't getto be baptized, but I felt the baptism of fire as I was confirmed and
received the Holy Ghost for some few of my deceased sisters. Peaceflowed through me as a sat in a room full of white light with thehands of the priesthood on my head. The power of godliness ismanifest through the ordinances of the priesthood. Goodness grows inthe temple.Whenever I feel lonely in the city, I hold the scriptures. It seemsso silly that just holding the book brings me comfort, but the word ismy sword. I thrashed through the crowded Metro station on Wednesday,trying to get on my train. I opened up to the words of Abinadi when hewas preaching to the wicked priests of King Noah. His words gripedme, filling me with the Spirit. At the same time, my physical senseswere surrounded by hoards of people, all fighting for a seat. None ofthem had any idea that I was communing with deity. My love for theBook of Mormon grows each time I read, even in the dungy chambers ofthe DC underground.On Thursday I got pulled into a protest in front of the Capitol—2500black Americans were protesting the "Jena 6" charges against 6 blackyoung men from the South. A lady approached me and asked if I wasthere to protest as well. I told her I had no idea what was going on,but that I believe in racial equality. She pulled me up to the frontof the group, displaying me to the protestors. As I was standing nearthe front, getting my picture taken, someone called out, "Get out ofhere, white girl!" I tried to get out, but realized my purse wasstill on the ground in the middle of all the protestors. A manreached out to me—I thought he wanted a hug, so I tried to hug himback. "Girl, I'm not huggin' you," he exclaimed. "You gotta stepback." Another lady came up and apologized for the woman who yelledat me. I finally got my purse and got out. What a rush!
That same day I received a tour of the Capitol and was present for arole call vote in the Senate Gallery. I saw 98 of our 100 U.S.Senators, including Hillary Clinton and Senator Obama . What a rush!They were voting on an amendment to the Iraqi bill that would havecalled for all the US troops to be out by January. The vote was 70"no" and 28 "aye." I rode the tram back to the Hart building withSenator Libermann.Prayer works. I prayed that someone would ask me about the Restoredgospel, not just Christianity in general. Betty, the security guardat the US Postal Museum, had questions about the temple—yes, faithprecedes the miracle.Last night we went to free Baltic dancing outside the Kennedy Center,just by the Potomac River. A cute, young Bulgarian man lead us incircle dancing, where we all held hands and hopped around together.We were sweating and laughing and smiling; people of all ages andraces and backgrounds. Praise the Lord through dance—it was SOjoyful. There was a live band, complete with accordion, drums,trumpet and vocalist. Later on, when a boy and a girl from the BarlowCenter were dancing with me, an old man came up and told the boy heneeded to stop being greedy, and pulled me aside to dance with HIM.We left right after that.I was spotlighted in Relief Society today and set apart for my callingas a ward missionary. My blessing was full of commandment to bear mytestimony, that my testimony would be heard by members andnon-members, plus those were trying to know if this gospel is real. Ican't tell you how wonderful it felt to know that Heavenly Fatherreally does want me to proclaim His gospel with my testimony.I have one—a testimony, that is. It is the greatest miracle in mylife—my living, growing testimony, like a fire that's burning.I love you, and wish I could talk with you in person, and hear of yourexperiences. Please let me know how life is going. Thanks for lovingme enough to read my flittering thoughts.Love, Sister Peterson (oops, Sundy)