Hello! How would you answer the prompt? "If you were in power for a day, how would you try to improve the country?" Hey are you there? This happens a lot, people are waiting for a chat and walk away from the computer and then just leave it open, so when I actually connect. No one replies Anyways My roommate just proposed an hour or so ago I was hiding in the bushes with my camera taking pictures of the whole thing I am excited for them, and Im excited to go to their wedding Its out in california over the summer luckily i have another friend who is getting married in california So it makes justifying the trip a little easier So Ill just tell you a story New Transfer, new start. I was a missionary serving in northern California. Driving away I gave one last glance at the quiet town I loved and trekked for 8 months cushioned in the berms of snow by the ned of that day my world had been flipped upside-down. Everything I had gotten used to would be wiped clean. This new town was always on the go. New town New people new rush it was like they never slept, they never were home, they never stopped working So what time would they have for us, the elders at their door? our area was a mere square mile where people lived. The other hlaf was just a large grass field, underdeveloped except for the outlines of dirt roads. These showing potential -- potential homes, families, dreams. But for now it stood empty and exposed to the storms So, my companion and I walked the same streets; over and over again. the possibility of having a car was out of the picture, even bikes would get us places too fast, so walking it was walking matched the pace of the work we had to do maybe that was the one thing that was the same, the speed of the work The days were long and rainy. It was futile to even hope of being dry. no coat, umbrealla nor even careful planning would come close to winning that war the water would always find a way to soak in After losing battle after battle of having any sense of being dry doubt came along In crevices unknown each penetrating slowly leadin the way for more to follow What good does a raincoat do if the rain always wins Each day, I slogged up and down the busy streets. Endless cars roared by the rain poured down, yet piercing through were the shrieks of honks and  cutting of words Every word somehow was so clear in y ear. I envied my companion who never heard them. He would turn to me and ask what they said shrugging i would lie and say I didnt catch it that time I did Each word was so sharp they always found their way above the cacophony of sounds. draining down, pulling waht little confidence i had along with it. as the storm went on my umbrella dropping a little lower my jacket was pulled a little tighter  and my gaze reduced to tracing each sunken step still the rain always found it way in One thousand five hundred houses. each we counted on the map only 4 houses knocked a day for a year Therefore, it would take knocking 8 a day to finish in the 6 months I was there I could have only hoped it have been that easy Repeatedly we would get doors closed one following another. The process became fluid, trailing from door to door anticipating each response Expecting each day to get back soaking wet and I had nothing new to report to the Ward mission leader but the empty outlines of the streets we walked As my days dragged on, it never felt like enough. I never had enough cover to stay dry only wet clothes on the hanger to dry each night. My shirt dripped theere as awhite flag surrendering the last hope I held To this point in my mission I sought to live up to the call to serve I promised to give everything I had and to use my talents to build the kingdom of God. My  talent lied in specifically drawing For 13 months I stewed over how I could even use my talent effectively to do just that Each idea I had would give up too much time, time better spent using my last bit of hope approaching people In teaching I could squeeze a little drawing in here and there to show the plan of salvation. Or to show some gospel concept in a visual way still I never felt like that was enough we just didnt have the time to do art in the way I had always known Trying to start anything in our time at the apartment I could only get so far leaving me with unfinished papges of un purposeful lines these seemed to mock me I never would have the motivation or time to get what I wanted out of them I started to see them as maps of our defeat just the outlines of each empty day Maybe those pages had potential to become something to create hope or inspire dreams for now they were just another banner of surrender how could outlines mean anything more on a blank canvas The next transfer arrived and with it came the news of a new companion upon meeting him something seemed to clear almost a spark maybe it was just the idea, or the hope he brough but excitement swept through my veins again. This Elder loved art he admitted he wasnt very good at it Though upon discussing the area we devided to try something new. The tides seemed to switch finally, and light gave way through the clouds for the first week in months there was no predicted rain We left the next day with a box of chalk in tow. That was our answer creating chalk art that would sahre our message since no one was really letting us sharing it otherwise figuring that we owuld run out of people to talk to soon we needed this new approach. this time i traced the path to homes of families in the local congregation with a twinkling optimism house after house we would spend enough time to leave a simple message. quickly a few in the congregation came and rallied behind us, with families volunteering their driveways and sidewalks to the cause. within the weekwe had art dispersed thorughout our area the words seemed to bring a symbol of accomplishment and with it returned hope then once again the rains returned wiped clean hours gone though washed away in one night the chalk had left a message on more than just the concrete it was enough time for more families to volunteer their plots we began again. Each a new canvas each a new approach We pushed ourselves making the messages more elaborate and detailed. This time friends and neighbors noticed opening new doors and opportunities walking didnt seem so treacherous as the slander began to be mixed with call of cheer from the families excited to see what we would make next Washed clean, the rains came again. Still determined we set out once more pushing further this process repeated each time receiving new strength to our ranks the congregation began to invite their friends to provide their driveways they posted the art to have a larger outreach I continued to make the pieces more intricate Now with confidence I left masterpieces along the streets we also were able to enter homes that once turned us away many were impressed to see something so different and this gave us a chance People would approach us as we were making new pieces and ask us to come by to their home I had purpose restored and miracles to report daily to our ward mission leader Finally the time  came that the rains stopped and with it was the news that we were both moving to a new area my companion and I set out to leave one final mark we found a home that stood facing a busy intersection there we traced a final message John 14:27 Looking back its easy to see that through the storm I was able to find peace I had overcome the turmoil and darkness that encompassed me I found hope and strength through persistence repeated trial and test a seemingly endless cycle just like the rains tore me down i was worn down and alsmost lost when I had nothing left but the outlines of my faith, it drove me to redraw everything I had previously known I finally found Gods purpose and forgot my own even after leaving the congregation and following missionaries would go and trace our last words these were the outlines that came to mean everything each tracing a hope that could no longer be washed away Well thats it thanks for listening or reading or not
hello how are you