Here is a story from one of our families that is new to the field:
Our son Matthew has had quite the experience with doctors. Unfortunately in most cases it’s been a painful experience. He had to get a large shot in his leg every day for a week. The painful part for me was that I had to hold him still during the procedure.
But me being there to hold him was also a good thing because I was right there to comfort him. He found comfort from me telling him the “Jesus hurt story.” The Jesus hurt story is the story of Jesus dying on the cross and rising again. We told this story to Matthew around Easter, and he labeled it the “Jesus hurt story.” He likes to hear it over and over, especially when anything hurts him.
What struck me was how absurd it would sound to the doctor and nurses for a two year old kid to be comforted by hearing about a man being tortured and executed. This is especially true in a Muslim context where the thought of a prophet dying is anathema. I wondered what in the world they would be thinking about me. Would they think I’m some whacked out masochist who is corrupting my son? I have to admit that in my fear of man the first couple of times I was reluctant to tell Matthew the story boldly.
But after a few times, I was sharing the story loud enough for others to hear, and it reminded me of how the strangeness and oddness of the story is also the story’s greatest comfort. Christ took on our weaknesses so that we can take on His strength.
Speaking of foolishness, fresh in our minds is the conversation we just had with the maintenance/security guy (kapija) of our apartment and his friend. My wife put it well when she said, “I feel ludicrous.” I asked her, “Because of how little language we know?” “No,” she said, “because how they must think of us.” In the conversation we admitted that we tried to pop popcorn, but it didn’t work. They interpreted our problem of not getting popped corn as us not knowing how to do it. Of course, I’ve burnt my fair share of popcorn in the states and my wife almost burned her parent’s kitchen down, but we know the general idea. However, when it seems like we don’t know anything here because our lack of language and our lack of knowledge of the way things are done, our inability to fix popcorn fits right in.
I have another example, there’s an expression for the perfect consistency of hot tea, which literally translated means, “rabbit blood.” The tea’s color is apparently similar to the color of rabbit blood. I tried to use that expression, but I used it wrong, and they actually believed that I thought I was drinking rabbit blood. You should have seen the look on their faces. So here is the question that has been going through my mind, ‘what must they think about me in general if the idea of me thinking I was drinking rabbit blood came as no big shock to them?’ How many other things must I do that seem just as ludicrous?