Citizens of Heaven: reflections on how the lack of speaking and understanding a language make me a foreigner.
I have
experienced life as a foreigner in varying degrees over the majority of my
life, probably beginning on my first short term missions trip (to Uganda) 22
years ago (yes, 22 years…yikes!). I don’t recall feeling so much a foreigner on that trip, but I was changed, and
became a distinct “foreigner” upon my return to Canada. I think it was then
that I began to learn how to die to myself and began to desire to live out
James 1:27 (in it’s entirety – I yearned to live out true religion by taking
care of orphans and widows AND by remaining unpolluted by the secular world)
*note: I am far from perfect, and simultaneously
began a fight against sin, as once convicted of something, once one knows the
good that they should do and they do not do it, they then sin… the struggle
against the flesh is real, but with every victory, as sin is put to death and
as I choose to live life in the Spirit, I am learning more and more how to live
a life separate from the world.
I have
experienced life as a spiritual foreigner as well as an actual foreigner. I
enjoy spending time with people of different cultures as well as visiting
different places and learning how to live alongside different people and
cultures. And, as all marriages are to some degree, I have learnt (am learning)
communication between different cultures, different (English) languages, and
between the male and female heart/mind.
I find it (relatively) easy to fit in with Africans (or at least fellow Christians from
both East and West Africa - and love the opportunity that we have in the Greater Vancouver area of BC, to meet and do life with so many cultures!).
The biggest challenge for me is always the language. Even where I can speak the language, like with Spanish (and English!), there are aspects of how language is affected by culture, and where communication may not flow smoothly when speaking a mutually-understood language with someone of another culture.
The biggest challenge for me is always the language. Even where I can speak the language, like with Spanish (and English!), there are aspects of how language is affected by culture, and where communication may not flow smoothly when speaking a mutually-understood language with someone of another culture.
I am
feeling that right now more than ever before, as we visit family in Uganda. The Apostle Paul talks about
language in 1 Corinthians 14. He is more specifically writing about speaking in “tongues”, and having order and
translation/interpretation in the Church, but he refers to the importance of
understanding each other, and how lack of knowing a language makes us
foreigners.
I have
never been made so aware of how much I am a foreigner than these past few
weeks, at home with my husband’s family in Acowa, Uganda. I am yearning for
fellowship in English, and am made aware of how much the inability to communicate
in a common language makes us feel like foreigners. The only time that I (we)
have word-for-word translation is at Church, but otherwise, we sometimes have
the gist of something translated, but are mostly “in the dark” about what is
being said. Of course, my husband can speak English and knows how to translate,
but he is working on finishing the house for my in-laws), and two of my sisters-in-law (who
live at home in the village) can speak English and translate basics, but they
are not very talkative (though, getting better) ;)
We had an amazing visit with our dear friends Shadrach and Sarah the other weekend, in Kobwin. They are all from the same
tribe, have the same culture, foods, and mother-tongue, but they speak English! It was such a blessing to sit down and visit with Sarah (and also debrief a bit with her too!), speaking the same language makes a world of difference!
I love our
family, and love spending time in the village with them, and although I would
rather not live in a mud hut, and I enjoy the comforts of running water,
electricity, and comfortable furniture (there is just something about sitting
on a comfy couch/sofa instead of a hard chair or a mat on the ground…), but if
God called us to live in the village (in a mud hut or otherwise), I could
quickly adjust, and die to all of those things. But my greatest struggle would remain the
language and the desire to communicate on a deeper level.
I still
have some more dying to do, and some more learning how to live as a foreigner –not
just in the village with my family, but learning FROM how they live, and choosing
to live a life unpolluted by the world, wherever I am.
More on my
experience and lessons learned in living in the village, next time!