One of the most discouraging aspects of our time so far has been our complete inability to communicate with anyone other than each other. We spent the past summer studying a different language expecting to go to a different country. Plans have changed in a hurry, and we’ve yet to quite catch up. The language is one of the most difficult to learn in the world, partially due to it’s emphasis on tone. Oh yeah, and I’m tone deaf.
A week ago, while eating at a local restaurant we frequent on weekends, the husband and wife who run the establishment began to argue. Although the tension between them was obvious to us before, this night it reached a new level. They started to yell across the room. Their children left – where, I don’t know. Other customers began to laugh. The conflict ended with the wife going to the back in tears. As we finished our meal, I went to the back to pay. I felt frustrated I couldn’t say anything, but I tried to make eye contact. If nothing else (and I’m pretty sure it was nothing else), I hoped the eye contact would at least show that I didn’t think her pain was funny.
A few days ago, we were approached by a beggar. Unable to communicate or understand what he was saying, I froze, as is my wont. Luckily my wife pointed to a nearby restaurant, and, after a confusing process of ordering our food, we ate together. I decided to ask him to teach us some of the language, pointing to food items and asking him one of the few phrases I know in the language, “How do you say this?” He was a better teacher than I’ve come across in my time here – patient and understanding. He never once raised his voice in that universal language teaching act of desperation, “Maybe if I say it louder….”
As I have said before, I still believe the kingdom of God is built with small, seemingly insignificant gestures. I just find myself praying that even my tone-deaf, inarticulate mumbles can somehow contribute.