I’ll Embrace the Awkward to Bring Joy

 

I seem to attract interactions with people who don’t speak any English and I don’t speak their language. It’s uncomfortable, challenging, stretching, and incredibly rewarding. 

 

Like now, as I lay next to an Indian woman on a small bed, with a scarf covering both of our faces and her arm wrapped around me. I hold her hand, assuming that this is what she was wanting to communicate, since her body posture is so welcoming. 

 

It all started off with me feeling led to step out of my personal bubble and world and share it with hers. I grabbed my trusty multifunctional iPhone and began to show her photos of my family. Before this, I saw her standing there, gazing off into space, lost in thoughts. I could see the deep pain in her eyes and the heaviness of the burden weighing down her shoulders. I could feel the pain she had walked through and had a sense from the Holy Spirit she was a widow. I crossed the divide, moving from my place on the couch and sat down on the cement floor next to her. 

 

As I began sharing parts of my life with her, she began to lighten up a little, asking me to take her to America and to give me her phone. India’s culture is very blunt and they also personal questions to a stranger, so I wasn’t too put off. She also invited me to go visit her village. Through the help of one of the adopted orphans staying at the house (whom we affectionately call sister) I was able to communicate through her translation. The dear woman opened up that she had 3 sons, but not anymore. I looked up at her and saw tears brimming in her eyes. She took a corner of her sari and dabbed at them. Covering our heads with scarves, I held her hands and prayed for her. I felt the love of God radiating out of my body, knowing that He has a soft spot in His heart for widows. 

I felt His heartbeat for this beautiful woman. Tears now brimmed in my eyes. 

 

Shortly after the prayer, the sisters left to go to school and no one was left in the house who spoke English to help translate. Instead of walking away and giving up, deeming the communication to be too daunting, I chose to press in to the uncomfortable and continue to connect with this dear woman. 

 

My teammate and I sang a song and did a dance, thinking that’s what they wanted. After about 3 minutes, their glazed over eyes cued us they weren’t very entertained… My dear woman got up and said she wanted to sleep. She then proceeded to lay down and patted the bed, motioning for me to join her…

 

In that moment I decided to take a risk and dive deep into what could possibly be incredibly awkward and even offensive. I laid down on the bed next to her. She scooted over, which I first thought meant she didn’t want me there and wanted personal space. But so many cultures outside of the West don’t have the same personal space bubbles we Americans have. I then realized she must be making space for me to be comfortable. She covered her face with her scarf and I mimicked her, for that’s the best way to learn cultural customs. Giggles were beginning to surface. 

 

Much to both of our delight, we both peeked from behind our veils looked each other directly in the eyes, our faces only inches apart. Laughter erupted out of both of us, as well as the two others in the room. As I stared into those same eyes where I had seen so much pain and brokenness minutes before, I now saw joy and a flicker of hope. 

 

After a few more minutes of joyful laughing and trying to communicate without spoken language, she covered her face again and put her arm around me. My heart was overflowing with the goodness of God and the power of His love to cross cultural divides. Laughter is a universal language. 

 

It was worth every ounce of awkward and uncomfortableness to be able to bring joy to this dear widow’s heart.