Growing Pains

 

Yesterday we visited someone I had met once before, but now I was with my two new English speaking companions. I am the only Spanish speaker in our trio. The woman was short, petite almost, but quite clearly pregnant. She spoke to us with a smile and a cheery tone. But to talk to us, she had only come out of her home in a night gown and no shoes. We talked for a little bit and she started slowly shivering in the cold. She began to shake more and more. We got a return appointment and I began to say goodbye, apologizing that we had made her stand in the cold. Then one of my companions suddenly started to explain the Book of Mormon to her. I had to translate into Spanish. The woman's hand quietly moved to the edge of the outer door to steady herself. She began to shake with cold as my companion explained how we can learn so much more about the love of God through the Book of Mormon. And the woman smiled as I translated. But my companions didn’t have a physical copy of the Book of Mormon to give her. And so we left. And when we got to the car, my companion talked about how she was disappointed that we couldn’t count that woman as a “find" because we hadn’t given her a Book of Mormon. We couldn't count her as one of our “Friends.”

My first real lesson by myself in Spanish was over the phone with a guy just a little older than me. His accent is pretty hard to understand, but I pushed through

I learned he had been inactive for a while, but had come back recently. And he was beginning to struggle again. "I just don't see how church is helpful,” he said. 

He's really nice, but just clearly doesn't fit in. There aren't a lot of people his age in church. They all are either married, in college, or inactive. They're all disenchanted with church. Thinking a similar thing to him, I thought, “How does this help me?”

I listened as he talked about how much he has been struggling. He loves the Bible. He loves his mom and her faith. And he talked about his Dad. "Sabe que es cinturon" Cinturon is belt in Spanish. And I didn't know the verb he used, but it was very similar to the English word lasceration. He father was very faithful, but he was going to make sure his kids were faithful too, even if he had to use a centurion. 

He talked about his new life here in Missouri, in America, and simply asked if I knew about Sodom and Gomorrah in the Bible. I wanted to help him so bad, but it was so hard to focus, as my two English speaking companions whispered to each other behind me. 

I tried to talk about the Plan of Salvation, but I felt stupid talking about God and His mercy in the face of all the injustice and pain this person had gone through even though he was barely older than me. We tried to set up another time we could talk, but it fell through. 

One night later that week, I called him. It was almost 9:00. I just wanted to see if we could set up another return appointment, but I asked him how he was, and he said his day had been a lot. He had had a dream about his Dad. And really I didn't understand exactly what had happened. But I could tell it had drained him. He talked about a video he had watched too, where a kid saw his dad in heaven. But again, I couldn’t quite understand what he said. I tried again to set up an return appointment. But it fell through again. He works two jobs. He is the main supporter for himself, his mom, and younger brother.

Then that Sunday on Christmas Eve the only member in the ward who speaks Spanish and actually has the time and desire to help snapped at me when I asked him to translate for Sacrament Meeting. It wasn't personal, and it was just clearly frustration with getting asked to do something all the time, and his frustration was valid. If my friend came, I would just have to translate. And then neither he or any of the others came to church that day.

A few days later, I sent the friend a text asking if we could meet. He said he couldn’t do meet. He said he wasn’t ready, and that something bad had happened, but he didn't say what. He was very apologetic and hoped we would understand. 

I have met so many Spanish speakers here in Sedalia. All of them are so different, but they all need help to find the church of Jesus Christ. And yet they are stuck with a little19-year-old who doesn't even know the word for bathtub in Spanish. 

Hermana d'Evegnée