La Gripe

Hermana Ostler’s Update – July 28, 2014

La gripe. It’s the most ferocious sickness out there. It’s the reason why people do not go to church, or read their scriptures, or work, or let us into their house. If you happen to come down with it, yeah you are a goner. 

La gripe translates to the English word “flu” but can mean any of the following as well: stuffed nose, runny nose, headaches, sore muscles, throw up, diarrhea, constipation, sore throat, cough, homesickness, laziness, heartsick, discourageness, burning eyes, joint pain, etc, etc. 

It’s the go-to word for anything. 

AND I TOTALLY GOT IT THIS WEEK. 

I used to be one of the unbelievers, one of the scowling doubters who said that “la gripe” doesn’t exist, it’s just a result of a frenzied mind. But now I have been converted to the truth and I am so very aware that it is a very real thing. 

This week we had to travel to Quillabamba for a week. It is the most beautiful city ever, a little jungle climate nestled between giant mountains. The drive is about 6 hours in a tiny minivan full of people on winding roads, climbing thousands of feet and then coming back down again. And “la gripe” was my constant companion on the trip, in Quillabamba, and coming back, to this very moment. 

My “Gripe” consists of a very runny nose, back pain, sore throat, racking cough, headache, the sensation that I have sandpaper behind my eyelids and dizziness and a blistered chafed Rudolph nose. A little child in Quillabamba, saw me, screamed and asked “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR NOSE?”  And also stuffed up ears for a week and not being able to hear anything or anybody. Attractiveness at its finest. Please. Don’t be a mocker of “la gripe.” It will find you. And it will have its revenge. 

Having lived in a boiling jungle for 7 and a half months has made me very prideful. It has gotten to the point where I refuse to use bug repellant, because I have “Native Blood” and the mosquitos NEVER wanted to bite me in Puerto. Well, God will always find a way to knock down that pride. Even if it means letting those blasted buggers eat me to the bones! We counted my bug bites on my legs and it was more than 120! I have been humbled and now use that repellant. Beware of Pride. 

I love doing my visits to all the sisters. Lots of times I hear some very negative comments about sister missionaries and it makes me smile. These people just do not understand the worth of a sister missionary. They love so big, work hard, and are just all around amazing. The hardest thing for me is to see these amazing individuals suffer. With homesickness, feelings of inadequacy, companion problems, health problems. Sometimes you just have to sit there and cry with them, to let them vent and let everything out and then allow them to sob in your arms. In those moments it’s hard for me to know what to do or say. But then I remember the words of Hermana Harbertson, that we are here to learn how to become strong pioneer women. We are here to become the valiant and loving and understanding mothers and wives of people who will desperately need us in the future. I love sisters. 

This week I had the chance to visit a less active sister with Hermana Irvine in Quillabamba. I felt prompted to read her one of my favorite scriptures in 1 Nephi 21:14-16. It talks about the love of Christ, that He can never forget us because He literally died for us. Every time He looks at the marks of the nails in His hands.. He sees us and feels our pain. Zoraida started to read that scripture and burst into tears. She could not even finish reading because her sobs were so strong. She told me that she had been searching for this answer for years, that she felt that God had forgotten her in her time of biggest pain and loneliness. She looked into my eyes and said that now she understood. She understood that God was there with her in all those heart racking times. Her eyes were filled with tears, but they were like giant dew drops of hope and peace. 

I know we are never forgotten or abandoned. I know that God send me to that sister in that moment so that He could heal her wounds and give me the strength to press forward. How grateful I am for a loving Heavenly Father. I know that Christ died so that we may live. I know we may be changed and healed and forgiven through the greatest act in history, the Atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ. 

I love you all. I love my mission. And I love to sleep. I never seem to get enough of it. But I am definitely a fan. 

Hermana Alex

This is when we forgot our mattresses and had to sleep on the floor.