swimming in a language

"So, how did we do?" That was one of a number of questions we asked our language teachers after this morning's visit to a local school. The answer, "Milomano ianareo (You guys are swimming)." This answer provided great encouragement following the plunge we had just taken into the deeper waters of the Malagasy language.

I had almost forgotten the feelings that arrive in waves shortly before teaching or preaching the Bible. Nervous energy, excitement, a heightened sense of unworthiness, a moment of utter helplessness, the queasiness of an upset stomach that is magnified by the terrible fear that there might not be a good toilet (and even if there is a good one, there is no guarantee of toilet paper), followed by a renewed resolve and strength to fulfill God's call for the moment. Only this time it took place in a different country with a different culture in a different language. The variables may change, but the one constant is a faithful God who sends out His sowers and produces the results of their sowing.

This morning we went to a school to teach the Bible to Malagasy students. We have been in language school for only a little over three months now, so it felt like we who are still doggie-paddling in the language were being thrown into the ocean. My class consisted of about forty 12-14 year-olds (we call them Jr. Highers in America). What an interesting time it turned out to be! I prepared a lesson based on Romans 5:1, in which Paul states, "Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." With notes and a Malagasy Bible in hand, I taught on this verse and other supplementary verses for about 20 minutes. After this, I prayed and then asked the question I dreaded most of all: "Misy fanontiana? (Are there any questions?)" You see, after three months of language school, I feel pretty confident in my ability to say what I need/want to say, but my understanding when others speak remains a point of frustration. My ears still can't hear as fast as they can talk.

Thankfully, one of our language teachers was with me during this time, because, surprise of all surprises, there was a Muslim student in the class who had A LOT of questions. I knew I was going there to teach the Bible; I didn't know I was going there to argue for the deity of Jesus with a 13 year-old Muslim. His biggest question concerned how Jesus could be both the Son of God and God at the same time. My goodness, I'm still in language floaties and I'm having to do apologetics in Malagasy. But the Holy Spirit is faithful and good. After praying silently yet fervently, I asked the young man who he thought made the universe. As expected, his answer was God. So I read Colossians 1:15-17 and John 1:1-4 to show him that the Scriptures clearly teach that Jesus Himself was actively involved in the act of creation, which, as he stated, was a work of God alone. As is the case with most Malagasy Muslims, he left the conversation unconvinced, but I was thankful for the opportunity to share the truth of Scripture nonetheless.

However, there was encouragement even in what was overall a frustrating conversation. I found out later that this young man is from Diego (the city we will relocate to in April) and he was speaking in the northern dialect, which partly explains why I could understand so little of what he said. This morning the Lord was giving me but a small taste of what we will be dealing with when we move in a couple of months. My heart breaks for the people of northern Madagascar, many of whom claim Islam as their faith, even though it gets diluted in the traditional religions of Madagascar. Muslim or not, there remains a stubbornness and hard-heartedness in the people of northern Madagascar through which only the Lord can break.

Lord, take their hearts of stone and give them a heart of flesh. Write Your laws on their hearts, and cause them to walk in Your ways. You be their God, and make them Your people.

I'm not sure the magnitude of this morning has hit me yet, probably because my brain was melting in the aftermath, but upon a quick reflection, I see that the Lord gave me the opportunity to teach His Word halfway around the world in a language not yet my own; that is pretty awesome, and overwhelming. We're in the deep, and whether it be by doggie-paddle or breaststroke, we're swimming.