Mejor and mujer are two words that not only look similar, but they also sound similar as well. But it should be noted that these two words DO NOT mean anything close to each-other. Upon our arrival into the country I began to attempt any kind of communication that was possible. This would include: body language, gestures or sign language, number signs, speaking English very ssslooooooowwwwllllyyyyy, and also speaking it very LOUDLY! After exhausting all of these methods I would have to revert to my broken almost non-existant Spanish skills. On one such occasion, I was introducing myself to a man at church. We exchanged names and he asked what my name was translated into English. Since I had introduced myself as Marcos, I quickly replied, “Marcos is Mark in English.” He then asked me which name I liked better, Marcos or Mark. I proudly responded, “Marcos es mujer.” Well, for those of you who know Spanish, you can probably imagine the expression on my new Colombian friend’s face as I had just told him that Marcos is a woman. You see, mujer (moo-herr’) means woman. What I meant to say was mejor (may-hor’), which means better.

I am going to a language school that is in the southern sector of Medellin. It is a secular university with a language school geared for foreigners. This means I often have other students in my classes from all over the world. I have had classmates from China, Saudi Arabia, South Korea, New York City, Switzerland, Germany, and Ireland just to name a few. In addition to a variety of classmates, I also have many different kinds of teachers. Each level is taught by a different professor. One of these professors was very animated, funny, and went out of his way to make class interesting. This particular teacher “preferred men.” Well, that course came to an end and on the last day our professor gave each one of us private reviews. He wanted us to know how we did in class and point out our strengths and weaknesses so we could focus attention on those areas. As my review was coming to an end I remembered that I wanted to leave him with a spanish gospel tract. I had plenty in my backpack as I remembered. We were saying our goodbyes and I went to pull out a tract to leave with him. I realized at that moment that the only tract I had left happened to be a Chick tract entitled “Una historia de Amor.” I struggled with giving that one to him because I didn’t want my professor to get the wrong idea. You see, una historia de amor means a love story in Spanish. Praise the Lord, he received it with a big smile. Hopefully it wasn’t because…

My wife has had a real advantage here in Colombia. She already speaks Spanish. Long before her and I even met she was earnestly preparing for a future life in Latin missions in a Stateside language school. Because of this, she has spoken fluent Spanish now for about 18 years. But upon arrival she was a little rusty. Also, as with any language, there are variances in vocabulary and idioms as you go from country to country. On one such occasion here Katie was returning a product to the local “Home Depot” type store near our apartment. She had bought a mattress protector for our youngest daughter that was supposed to be waterproof. Our youngest had an accident in bed one evening and that proved the protector to be anything but waterproof. As Katie was in the return department she began to explain the situation. She told them that the protector was falsely advertised. It was not waterproof. She used it and in the morning the mattress was wet. Unfortunately, they didn’t give any money back and so she came home a little disappointed. As she was retelling me the story something dawned on her. She remembered the customer service manager listening to her story but always turning his face away as if he were embarrassed. Then she realized, he thought she was the one who had wet the bed. She had never told the customer service manager it was our daughter’s mattress protector. Needless to say, she didn’t go back to that store for about a month and a half for fear she might run into the service manager that she had confessed her incontinece problem to. Leaving out one or two words can make a big difference!

These are just some of the many experiences that we have had. There are surely more stories to come as we continue to learn the language. Thank God though, the Colombian people are very forgiving and we find that as long as we are trying to speak they are smiling and are very quick and gentle to help us say things correctly.

The family and I decided we would walk down the street tonight to a local restaurant that came highly recommended by a friend. Once we arrived we took a seat inside the completely empty restaurant. The waitress came over and while she leaned on our table, waited silently for us to voice our requests. After a bit of awkwardness, we ordered some drinks as well as our meals. As we sat there waiting for our Chinese dinners to arrive I couldn’t help but wonder how my family and I must appear to the outside world. We are all of a different shade than the locals. The girls especially stick out with their skirts, blond hair and blue eyes. Blurting out our conversation in English I would catch myself shushing our girls to try and avoid any more attention to ourselves than was blatantly obvious. Suddenly a man appeared at the edge of our table.

Noticeably disheveled and filthy this man was unmistakably a beggar. Because I was already in the survival mode I wasn’t really listening to what he said as he began to speak softly to us so as not to be noticed by the restaurant owner. He was telling us his story and that he needed help. I knew that I didn’t have any small change in my pocket so I had already made up my mind to get rid of him as soon as possible. My wife asked him if he was hungry. He replied desperately yes. She offerred him bread out of a basket on our table that had three rolls. I firmly told her to only give him one. She did and just as suddenly as he arrived he disappeared. In that instant I realized that this man was not trying to take advantage of us, he was hungry. I felt immediately convicted as verses of scripture ran through my mind regarding taking care of the poor. But my chance had disappeared. The man was gone. We could have invited him to be our guest, bought him dinner and shared the gospel with him, But he was gone.

We finished our meal and I looked over all our plates. Each plate on the table was at least half full. What a disgusting picture of our abundance. I didn’t want the food. I didn’t need the food. That man did. We paid our bill and left with our bag full of boxed food. With a feeling of disgrace I said to my wife, if we pass someone on the walk home that needs something, we are going to give them all of this food. We did. Shortly after we started walking we met another man thin and desperate for help. We asked him if he was hungry. He nodded. We then gave him the bag full of food and walked on. As we crossed the street I looked back and saw the man beginning to eat what we had given. We didn’t need it, his life may have depended on it. All around us are opportunities to love people to Jesus Christ. God help us to be more aware and in-tune with the Spirit. When He brings people by our way and we dismiss them, we miss manifold blessings both for them and us.

He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; And that which he hath given will he pay him again. Proverbs 19:17