Elder Drew D. Swainston: Elder Drew. D Swainston

"WHO ARE YOU BOY? (Poem to a Missionary from a Russian Convert)

Who are you boy? You journeyed to this land of ours.
This land where I have endured my days
And felt oppression kill my soul
And forced me into some tight mold
And teach me that I should not hope
Unless I care to smell the smoke
Of dreams that the Red Army tamed.

Who are you boy? From this land of plenty.
Teaching of God if there is any.
You have all, we have none.
Do you know what that feels like son?
And yet, you ask me to believe
In something that I cannot see,
Some force you say will bring me joy.
Do you know what that feels like boy?

Where you are from, faith is free.
But it has a price for me.
When I have pain, I have my bottle.
Hurt dies quick when you drown it in vodka.
That's enough to warm my soul.
I work, I sleep, the days go by -
I am waiting for the day I die.
You don't understand this place.
You say believe, obey, have faith.
Live life well, serve and give.
Here in Russia we just live.

Who are you boy? Why did you come
To save a soul who once was numb?
To teach a wretched, hateful man
Who cursed your help, refused your hand.
I thought that we were worlds apart.
So how is it you knew my heart?
A fraction my age, you calmed my rage.
Mercy paid my generous wage.

I should have been left behind
It is hard to love my kind.
Hope in your heart, power in your hands
Why did you come to this distant land
I know now, it was for me
The Red Curtain fell, but I was not free
Until a boy from nations away,
Brought me my Lord. I bless the day
He led me to weep at my Master's feet,"

He's Been There Before

The alarm rings at 6:30; I stumble to my feet
I grab my companion's bedding and pull off his sheet.
A groan fills the room. It's already time to arise?"
It seems like just a second ago I was able to shut my eyes.

The morning activities follow: study, prayer and such
When its time to leave the apartment, you feel haven't accomplished much
"We have a super day planned," my Companion says with a grin.
I lowly utter a faithless breath, Yea, if anyone lets us in.

With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street.
Prepared to face another day of humidity and heat
It's 9:30 in the evening, the day is almost through.
My companion and I are riding home, not accomplishing what we thought we'd do.

We ride up to the mail box hoping to receive a lot.
Only to look inside and hear my echo reverberate "AIRBOX"
We go up to our apartment; the day is now complete
the only thing to show for our work is a case of blistery feet

It's past 10:30 Pm, my companion is fast asleep.
Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep
In the midst of sadness I kneel down to pray;
I need to talk to Father, but I'm not sure what to say.

"Oh Father," I begin, "What happened to us today?
I thought we'd teach somebody, but everyone was away
My hands, my aching hands worn, hurt and beat
If our area was any smaller,we'd have knocked on every street."

Why on missions are the days so much alike?
the only difference about today was the flat tire on my bike.
Will you send some cooler weather? the heat is killing me!
I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes. Its very hard to see.

Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn't your protection enough?
People always laugh at me and call me stupid stuff.
Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack;
I want to give them Book Of Mormon, the weight of them hurts my back."

And what about my Family? They don't have much to say.
I'm sick of not hearing from home day after day.
Oh Father,why am I here, Am I just wasting my time?
Sometimes I just want to go home, I'm sorry but that's on my mind.

My Companion, Heavenly Father, what are you giving me?
The way he rides his bicycle I don't know if he can even see!
Now you have it, I can't go on. I DON'T KNOW what to do!
That, my Father in Heaven, is the prayer I leave you."

My prayer now finished I stand up, then jump right into bed.
I need my feet for tomorrow; we have another long day ahead
Sleep starts to overtake me, I seem to drift away.
Then it seems a vision takes me to another time in another day.

I'm standing alone on the hill, the view is very nice.
A man walks towards me and says, My name is Jesus Christ."
Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to His feet.
"Arise he states, follow me to the shade you and I need to speak."

My attention towards my Saviour, total and complete
He says, "Your Mission is similar of what happened to me.
I understand how you feel, I know what your going through;
In fact, it would be fair to say I've felt the same as you.

"Even know how you felt when no one listened to you
At times I felt now quite sure what else that I could do.
I know you don't like to ride a bicycle for a car would be sweet.
Just remember the donkey I rode I was not equipped with 21 speed.

I understand you don't like sweating, in fact it's something to hate.
I remember when I sweat blood from every pore, " Oh, the agony was great.
I see you don't like your companion you would rather have someone else.
I once had a companion named Judas who sold my life for wealth.

It's hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you.
I remember when they put thorns in my head and called me King of the Jews.
So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack.
I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back."

Your hands hurt from tracking and knocking on doors all day
I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ache in a similar way.
It's hard not to hear from home when your family was not there to see.
I lost communication on the cross and cried, "Father, why has though forsaken me?"

We have a lot in common, but there is a difference between us you see.
I endured to the end and finished my mission, so follow and do like me."
He embraced me with his arms, His light filled me with His love.
With tears in my eyes, I watched as he went back to the Father above.

I stood with awe and wonder when a beep rang in my head.
I listened and heard the alarm, when I realized I was in my bed.
My companion let's out a groan, "6:30 already, no way!"
I sat up and said. Come on, I'll even carry your scriptures today!"

Not matter what we go through when we feel we can't take more,
Just stop and think about Jesus Christ, He's been there before.

by Troy Whittle

Elder Drew D. Swainston

Elder Drew. D Swainston

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