Katherine of the Alps: Sister Cullimore

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Welcome to Radolfzell: 750 years old this year, it is a dainty little town right on the lap of the lake. We visit it quite often, whether for a pday eating "spaghetti ice cream" at a sunbathed cafe table, or for finding along the beachside path.

Street performers can always be found strumming guitars beneath the railroad tracks, and when talking to people about religion, sisters can strike up all sorts of interesting conversations with Catholics to Atheists to Muslims alike.

I WENT ON EXCHANGE WITH SISTER KAMI CULLIMORE. #DREAMS.

It was so fun just being able to catch up on everything since graduation; it was especially cool because I have been together with her, cheerleading on the sidelines of a wild basketball game, in AP classes, and now in the mission field. I loved hearing her bear powerful testimony in appointments, and watching her bold and fearless talent in talking to basically anyone on the street. This exchange ("tausch") was incredibly fun but also did not lack it's uncomfortable moments... here are 2 of the multiple:

8 PM we were walking / chit-chatting when suddenly we heard rustling in the bushes. Suddenly this big non-German guy legit jumped out of the bushes shouting "[swear word] AMERICANS" over and over. As he started getting in our faces, we stood our ground and clutched our purses, completely uncertain of what to expect. Then he just ran off yelling angrily. I PROMISE I WOULD NEVER NORMALLY DO THIS IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY - but I was in such disbelief that this dude would literally curse at these two young, 5' stranger girls... that in a moment of pure rebellion, I started whisper singing 'I'm Proud to Be an American' and smiled as Sister Cullimore joined me.
We were visiting a lady in the village over when, in the middle of a great spiritual moment, my phone started ringing off the hook. I hung up 4 times before finally I went into the hallway to answer. It was the 12-year-old we teach English to, crying as she exclaimed, "Where are you?!" Apparently we never received the text that she wanted to change her appointment (always Thursday) to Wednesday. "I am so so so sorry but I can't come today! I'm not even in Singen right now!" It wasn't for another hour later that we got dropped off at the train station in Singen (so that we could take a train towards the border of Switzerland, meet the other sisters, and exchange back). We got to the station like 10 minutes before we needed to hop on the train, so spontaneously I told Sis Cullimore that if we raced over, I could treat her to some ice cream as thanks for the fun tausch. LITERALLY WORST TIMING EVER. The same 5 seconds that we were waiting at the light holding our ice creams were the same 5 seconds that the 12-year-old's father (a bus driver) drove past. We made eye contact and he threw up his hands in pure disgust at us. It felt like a movie. This looked so bad! While we knew the reality of our 10 minute timespan, to him it looked like we had lied to his tween daughter by telling her we weren't Singen to ditch out and get dessert. I was freaking out. It was an agonizing half hour before we managed to get Sis Stellter (Sis Cullimore's German companion whom I replaced in Singen) to call him in her flawless German and settle the whole ordeal.......... SIGH OF RELIEF

HOW TO TELL IF YOU'VE BEEN A SISTER MISSIONARY FOR 14 MONTHS

When you're at the lunch break of a service project, 2 guys in their late 20s pat that tiny space leftover on the couch, and tell you to sit there right smack in between them... AND FOR YOU THAT'S LIKE THE MOST TERRIFYING THING THAT COULD HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN SAID TO YOU ALL DAY

HOW TO TELL IF YOU'RE SERVING IN GERMANY

When it's Thursday and the first time you've been invited in all week is now by a very drunk man in an open bath robe. #bitte...nein
When you wake yourself up in the middle of the night, arms folded praying in German
Or even better, on exchange in Switzerland: when the bill is brought out and the water turns out to cost 10 franks

It's been exhilarating finding new opportunities to teach, whether it be legitimate lessons (FINALLY!!) or simply giving testimony to a person on the street. I have never been so utterly unafraid to just declare to people the wonderful news of the gospel.

To be honest, so much of my mission has been about shaping me into becoming confident in myself as someone capable of being a powerful messenger of the gospel.... because for a very long time I struggled with feelings of inadequacy. But I found something special in D&C 35:

"13 Wherefore, I call upon the weak things of the world, those who are unlearned and despised, to thresh the nations by the power of my Spirit;

14 And their arm shall be my arm, and I will be their shield and their buckler; and I will gird up their loins, and they shall fight manfully for me; and their enemies shall be under their feet; and I will let fall the sword in their behalf, and by the fire of mine indignation will I preserve them."

I think that part of faith in the Lord also includes faith in ourselves. God does not need kings nor celebrities nor Harvard graduates to perform his work in whatever convincing manner of brilliance... he needs those, however humble they may be, with simply the faith enough to know that they can be a tool in His hands. That, as long as they are trying their best, that He will put them on the right paths. And then, as it says in the Book of Ether, weak things will be made strong.

Love,

Sister Lundgreen

Saturday, May 13, 2017
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Brain Jello

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Episode 1: Mission Impossible

It was an hour's journey through hail and snow before we finally we knocked on the Schäfers' door. They seemed happy to see us 4 missionaries there, and we happily munched on Swiss chocolate while they showed us pictures and chatted about World War II. We had an excellent spiritual discussion about perseverance. On our way out the door, Sister Woolsey checked the phone and turned white.

"Ummmmmm Brother Schäfer.... your wife didn't actually invite us, did she?"

"No?"

I peaked over to see that we had 2 missed called from Sister Schäffer. No, not the Sister Schäfer we had just visited but rather Sister Schäffer with two f's who is actually Russian and lives actually in an entirely different city.

Needless to say, Sister 2-f Schäffer was NOT pleased when we finally arrived 2.5 hours late on her doorstep. We poured out our apologies and asked if there was anything we could do to make up for it. In her heavily-accented German she just said, "Eat."

Challenge accepted........ Oh how we persevered.

WHAT SISTER LUNDGREEN ATE:

1 massive bowl of noodle soup (probably a 3:1 noodle:broth ratio)
1.5 chicken breasts (this was NOT the vegan sandwich I'd been craving earlier)
3.5 whopping Russian meat dumplings (I'm talking almost burger diameter)
1 other eggy dumpling thing
3 greasy crepes
5 spoonfuls of Greek yogurt
1.5 cubes goat cheese
1 cup peppermint tea with accompanying spoonfuls sugar
5 orange slices
1 white roll with honey
10 scoops of tomato, cucumber and onion salad
1 cube of super-salty meat-mash BRAIN JELLO (Sister Schäffer's favorite)

Sister Schäffer then sent the four of us home with a heavy bag of

10 crepes
9 hard boiled eggs
2 oranges
4 apples
2 boxes of pasta
1 box of rice pudding
1 box of chocolate cookies
1 box of chocolate bananas
1 carton tomatoes

There is a running joke that all missionaries are expected to gain 15lbs before leaving Singen, except me-- I'm "so skinny" that they say I have to gain 30lbs. I laughed at the possibility as I looked at the new dishes she kept pulling out of the oven and the table-full we still had left to conquer. We were in so much pain; our bellies were so distended that even the elders looked pregnant.

Of course, we were so so grateful to Sister Schäffer for all of the time and effort she had put into preparing our grand meal. She had pictures of past missionaries on her walls because she really does care, and that means the world to us. At the end, tears streamed down her face as we sang "I Am a Child of God," and we thanked her and wrapped her in big hugs.

Episode 2: Silent Conversation

"Hallo, wir sind von der Kirche Jesu Christi und wir fragen--" The man we'd approached cut us off by shaking his head and pointing to his ear. "Do you speak English?" I attempted, realizing quickly that he was an immigrant but falsely assuming what he meant. Actually, he meant that he was deaf.

For the next twenty minutes we watched in awe as he told us his story through charades. To be honest, I didn't understand about 80% of what was going on, but I could guess on a few things.

He is a devout and prayerful Muslim.

He wrote IRAK on his hand, and made it clear he does not like Iraq at all.

Sometimes he would show us pictures of people and sign to indicate that they were his wife or children.

Sometimes he would pretend to shoot machine guns, or use a knife, or dig a grave. Sometimes I was really worried that such motions were connected to the people in the pictures.

He would tug on the edge of Sister Woolsey's coat and then make a waving motion, which after a few times I came to realize meant "flag." When connected with his signs about people wearing particular clothing, he was referring to a certain political or likely terrorist group.

He pointed to the Jesus pass along card we had initially given, kissed it, crossed his heart and put it in his wallet to inform us he was keeping it.

He also made it clear that he wanted to communicate with us more in the future, and offered his number so that we can message him using Google Translate.

In the end, we all smiled and shook hands in silent goodbye.

There is truly nothing like the experiences accumulated on a mission.

XOXO,

Sister Lundgreen

P.S. I AM A GRANDMA!!! SISTER SLACK IS TRAINING!

P.S.S. I saw Sister Cullimore today! For those who don't know her, this cute chica and I did cheerleading together WAY BACK WHEN. Go hurricanes!