When I Don't Have the Words
One of the most difficult things about living in a foreign country is the language. When you do not understand the language in its entirety, you do not get the full picture of situations.
This is a constant truth of life here, but it becomes incredibly clear when you spend a week almost entirely immersed in these situations.
Last week wrapped up camp number two of the summer for our team. The first camp we do, in July, is the one that we as an OMS team plan and operate. That camp is an English immersion camp where the students receive translation into Hungarian, but almost all activities are in English. The second camp we participate in is in partnership with a church plant in Budapest. For this camp, our team provides support. The church brands this camp as an “English camp” so we provide the English lessons and teach the Bible stories in English. Other than that, the camp is just in Hungarian, with some sporadic translation for those of us who are not fluent.
This year at camp, it was easier for me to know what was going on than last year, as my knowledge of Hungarian has increased quite a bit. However, it was still surprising to me how much I did not understand or missed in conversation.
Each day, I was having conversations with kids in a language not my own, but it was conversation stunted with many expressions of “One more time?” and “I don’t understand.” Many times I knew just enough to understand the theme of the conversation but not the actual point.
The kids also think it is fun to get me to say bad words or other things they think are funny, so it is also a constant game of figuring out what they are saying and what I should definitely not repeat. Many times, I know just enough to know they are messing with me, but not enough to know how.
Operating in these situations, where I can’t see the whole picture, I have to learn a greater degree of patience and humility. I am constantly reminding myself that pride and perfectionism in the midst of this will only lead to intense frustration. The truth of the matter is that there will be embarrassing situations. I will mess up what I say. Someone will laugh at me. Sometimes I will feel a bit on the outside. Sometimes my brain will grow weary with the constant striving to make sense of situations.
Yet, it is always surprising to me how other forms of communication become so much more important when language disappears. I begin to see how a look or a pat on the back can communicate love. Or a look and distance can communicate disappointment. I also become very aware of the miscommunications that can happen even more easily without words and how my nonverbal actions affect others.
Often it is hard for me to see how my words or actions impact others. I forget sometimes that people are paying attention to me, that they are putting weight into what I do or say. This week, and my reflections on it afterwards, have been a reminder to me that what I do, even when I am unaware of who is paying attention, can either communicate Christ, or the opposite. The way that I look at people, my tone of voice, the amount of time I choose to spend with them, can be either life-giving or life-sucking. This camp reminded me that regardless of whether I can see the whole situation, the Lord can use me when I am reacting to people out of love for him—whether verbally or non-verbally.
Are you reacting to people out of your love for the Lord? Are you paying attention to what your nonverbals are saying?
