Language learning can be uncomfortable.
Just a year after my husband and I settled into our home in Southeast Asia, our neighbor Azim visited and told us gravely that his wife Yusra was very sick.
“I will pray for her,” I assured him. My heart ached for what he was going through, and that night I lifted her up in my personal prayer time.
I was surprised to see Azim again the next day when he knocked on our door. “Are you ready to come pray for my wife?” he asked.
My stomach dropped. I found praying out loud in the local language difficult, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself or hinder my witness to them.
My husband put his hand on my shoulder and reminded me that I’d been studying different verses for sharing the Gospel during my language lessons. Since it would only be Azim, Yusra, my husband and I, I took a deep breath and nodded, slipping the page of verses into my pocket just in case. Then, we went with him.
When we reached Azim’s doorstep, I noticed a pile of sandals off to the side. My heart began to beat faster, and my palms turned damp. There had to be a crowd inside. Sure enough, as we stepped into the small house, I counted a dozen relatives gathered around Yusra. I quickly offered to return later.
“No, please,” Azim insisted. “We were waiting for you to arrive to pray.”
I wanted to disappear. It was hard enough for me to pray with someone one-on-one. Now I had an audience. Anxiety traveled through me like an electric current. I didn’t know Azim’s relatives or what they would think about a believer praying for their loved one.
Yusra lay in the bed, her face white and skin clammy. A rattling cough came from her frail body. As I walked to her side, I willed myself to focus on her alone. Then, I stumbled my way through the prayer, my words uncertain and hesitant.
When I finally finished, I handed Yusra’s son the page of Gospel verses, saying quietly, “Please, read these to your mother.”
As my husband and I left, I thought, “Jesus, I was not ready for that.”
But whether I was ready or not, He had used me. Sometime later, I found out that locals commonly read verses to a sick person, hoping to bring healing. I had unintentionally done something culturally appropriate for the occasion. More importantly, Yusra got to hear the Gospel from her family in her final days.
She passed away soon after, but the family was so appreciative that I had come. It wasn’t about me. It was about God wanting Yusra and her relatives to hear the Good News.
Language and culture learning are foundational for building relationships that point to Christ. Even in my weakness, God used my small efforts. It’s not about how much I can do but how much He has already done.
Pray:
- Lift up field workers struggling with language learning. Ask God to give them strength and courage to speak the truth using the words they have.
- Pray for Muslim men and women to experience the care and love of Christ through Frontiers workers.
- Pray for the Bible to be translated into the heart language of every unreached Muslim people group in Southeast Asia.
**This account comes from a long-term worker. Names and places have been changed for security.**
Main photo on iStock: bushton3
Original article: https://frontiersusa.org/blog/stumbling