On the way to our semi-annual mission football (soccer) game we picked up our district leader and his companion who work in Worcester, the next area over. An alarm went off on our phone at 9:50, which means it’s time for mission prayer. Everyday at 9:50 all of the missionaries get on their knees and say a mission prayer - we pray for our whole mission. I debated ignoring it since we were driving, but ended up suggesting we say a mission prayer anyway, (because we had forgotten to say a safety prayer as well!) Anywho, Sister Rose voluntereed to say it. Everyone in the car closed their eyes and bowed their heads, except me, because I was driving. As she began to pray, I came up on the other side of the hill and staring me in the face was a huge, obscene billboard of a woman. I looked in the rear view mirror to see the Elders, eyes closed, heads bowed. Prayer is protection.
Share Sista Pope's adventures as she serves a mission in jolly ole' England. I (Mama Jane) will be posting excerpts from her letters. Check back often and leave some love in the comments! I'll be sure she sees it.
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