Friday, November 04, 2005

CHALLENGED BEYOND ALL ODDS
I used to think that how I grew up completely defined me - then I realized, I grew up. Let me get you up to speed...

I was almost literally born into the church - Mom might as well have just had me right there on the organ bench. But I was definitely Daddy's little girl. For the longest time, the Bible and Jesus made more sense to me than 2+2. I knew how to "do" church. I was humming and singing church music before I could speak correctly or read. And when I was 11 and my parents talked to me about moving to Brazil to do mission work - I wasn't surprised or even worried, I knew we would go and that was normal to me. I didn't mind having to learn another language or a new culture - in fact, I was so used to being in my own culture anyway - moving from one church to the next and one state to the next my whole life - this shouldn't be all that different.

Of course I found out real quick that I was a little mistaken - Portuguese wasn't all that easy for someone already in the 8th grade. And adolescence set in quickly. I had a separate Portuguese class from the rest of the kids at the American school who already spoke Portuguese. I was with the kids who had lived there anywhere from 5 months to 2 years - the beginners. During those first few weeks in Brazil, I felt a strong need to learn the language - not just for fun, but for survival - not just for me, but for my family.

I asked the L-rd for help: "I cannot do this unless YOU do it for me." I made a promise to myself and to G-d: I would learn this stinkin language if it was the only class I would pass in 8th grade.

I approached my Brazilian teacher and in my very broken Portuguese said: "I have to learn Portuguese."

She replied with a patronizing smile and pat on the back, "Yes, I know."

I looked at her sternly and said again "I HAVE to learn Portuguese."

She said again, "I know."

After my 3rd attempt to share my conviction, she got the sentiment. She bent down slightly and said, "We will try."

It's not that the teacher didn't believe in me, but she had 5 other students who hadn't gotten out of her beginner's Portuguese class since they had arrived in the country and here I was, 2 weeks in, begging to be fluent.

A little while later, during lunch when everyone would go out to the park benches, I was sitting waiting to make some friend. I knew everyone at that school spoke English - all of our classes were in English, except Portuguese. Then, they came, one at a time, and started sitting near me. Some girls, some boys - everything went silent when one of the girls looked at me - then she turned the other way and started speaking in Portuguese with the rest of the students. They laughed and participated in the prejudice. It had happened to me once before - at a meeting with the other missionary families. I knew this feeling. I felt the deepest hole in the pit of my stomach. I ran away to cry - but pulled myself together. I proceeded unwaveringly to the pay phone to call mom and dad at the language center where they studied. I talked to dad and told him I was getting very sick and could not stay at school. He had to come pick me up. (Let me insert here an important side-note: I had never lied with such determination to my parents, much less asking them to come pick me up from school.)

When Dad drove up, he face immediately changed from concerned to confused: "You're not sick!" I hadn't said a thing, but got in the car. He then said: "I'll take you home." I cried....the next day, I went back to school.

I don't know exactly when or how, but I know that I learned Portuguese - fast and fluently. People started commenting on the velocity I had in understanding and imitating accents and slang. Within a year, I was considered a native Brazilian to other Brazilians until they found out I was not.
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The L-rd does spectacular things at spectacular times. I hated what I had to go through to learn the language, but as you will soon read, I really HAD to learn it. Only Adonai could know the impact of such a simple lunch in the 8th grade. Only He could have given me the incentive to fight against the odds. He made me a conqueror. And this is not the only example. I hope to share with you here, how a not-so-special girl, came to be a girl of hope and dreams fufilled...challenged beyond all odds.

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