Twice in My Life

Twice in my life I have had a Spanish teacher make it a point to tell me how horrible a student I was.  I can never remember the exact words that were used, but it was to the effect of "worst student ever...".  Not to say that I didn't deserve the title, but it's definitely not one I would wish upon my progeny.

That paragraph describes one of the many platypuses in my life.  Why platypus?  Well, in Christian circles I have often heard that we know God has a sense of humor because of platypuses.  So, me being a missionary in Peru certainly qualifies as a humorous situation.  I go from worst student ever, to being completely immersed in the language.  I know, I am stating the obvious.  But I think for this story, the obvious serves a purpose.  Commencing story:

This past week of rugby was an interesting one, filled with opportunity and running.  On Tuesday I hopped in a taxi by myself for a 30 minute drive.  But before I did so, I talked for about 30 minutes with a guard that works down the street. 

I was trying to catch a cab for a few minutes and I was not having any luck.  Next thing I know, this guy Carlos, comes over and we drum up a conversation.  Carlos, my new friend, is someone I have purposefully waved to for several months.  He is a guard for San Fernando, a grocery store by our house.  He always waves back, and then gets back to guarding stuff. 

In our conversation suddenly my limited Spanish started to free itself.  After talking and talking, I finally had to break away because I was already late for practice.  However, before I left, we set up a time to get together for lunch on his only day off.

I hopped in the taxi, gave my driver Jesus an Inca Cola, and then talked to him for the entire drive.  My Spanish was getting better and better.  I know because they all understood me.  Praise Jesus, (not the driver). 

Friday Carlos called me and we went to lunch together.  However, I need you to understand the importance of the last sentence.  In almost six months in ministry, because of my language limitations, I have NEVER invited someone to lunch without a translator.  It was unbelievable.  I only understood 60% of the conversation, but he helped me out.  We joked. He told me about his family, his jobs... his beliefs on cussing.  I told him about my family, my jobs, and how sometimes I have caught myself saying a bad word or two. 

I know that God was in the middle of that conversation, even in the parts I didn't understand.  He invited me to see his family in their home, about three hours away... (I think).  I gave him my dictionary, and he is already practicing words in English.  Who knows what will happen? 

However, it got me thinking a lot.  The worst Spanish student ever, ate homemade chinese food in Lima, Peru with a person who only speaks Spanish.  Nehemiah was a cup bearer before he was a wall builder... 

Only God can orchestrate that kind of a platypus.

(I have now unofficially, officially copyrighted the term platypus.)

Shaun