If You’d Be in Walmart, I’d Marry You

“You are smarter than me. You are more beautiful. You speak better. Your voice is more beautiful.”

This was Fabiano’s assessment of me during one of our weekly Zoom calls. I was beginning to wonder what he wanted from me. Then he answered that question.

“If you’d be in Walmart, I’d marry you.”

I explained that I was already spoken for, but thanked him for the offer. A guy doesn’t get that kind of attention every day, particularly from a guy who lives in Brazil.

For the record, I pointed out that I was probably cooler than he was, too. My air conditioning was on.

Fabiano is working on his doctorate at a Brazilian university. I am a retired-ish American with a blog, a landscaping habit, and a remarkable ability to wander off topic. Somewhere along the way, we became friends. I suppose there are stranger things in the world, but this ranks pretty high on the list of things I didn’t see coming.

How This Started

I began volunteering with an organization called Let’s Start Talking before COVID. The organization uses English as a Second Language as a way to share the gospel with people who might not otherwise have much interest in it. I read with people from Vietnam, Ecuador, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and other places. The format was straightforward: talk about our lives, read something, work through vocabulary, answer questions, and discuss the ideas. The trick was getting people comfortable enough to keep coming back.

When COVID arrived, my in-person reading arrangements went away, and I shifted to online conversations. I now meet with three readers. I’ve been talking with Fabiano for close to three years, although I would not bet money on the exact anniversary. We have bigger problems to solve, such as why English needs so many words that mean almost the same thing.

Fabiano already spoke English fairly well when we started. He is also harder on himself than he needs to be. I regularly remind him that his English is much better than my Portuguese. This is not a particularly high bar, but I mean it as encouragement.

Our calls are supposed to last an hour. For the first forty minutes or so, we generally talk about whatever has happened in our lives. Eventually, I try to steer us toward the lesson. That is the plan, anyway. Plans are useful things, provided you don’t get too attached to them.

Fabiano sometimes forgets it’s our meeting day. I give him ten minutes before sending a WhatsApp message to see if he’s still alive. Other weeks, we have no trouble filling the hour. He has plenty of opinions and curiosity, along with enough confidence to tell me things that probably wouldn’t occur to a more cautious person.

For example, he has joined our calls without a shirt more than once. He knows to put one on when I point out the situation. I appreciate his casual approach to life, but I have no particular interest in conducting an English lesson while staring at a hairy chest.

English Is a Strange Language

Once we get around to the lesson, we read a short passage, discuss its meaning, and work through any words or expressions that give him trouble. Sometimes we can figure out a word from context. Other times, we consult a dictionary or find an online pronunciation. Occasionally, a word refuses to cooperate, and we have to give it more attention than either of us thinks it deserves.

Recently, we spent time on the difference between “seek” and “look for.” Another week, we talked about “maybe” and “perhaps.” You might think those are simple distinctions, but try explaining why two words that seem interchangeable aren’t always used in the same way. English speakers absorb a lifetime of these little rules without realizing how odd they can sound to someone learning the language.

I get to rediscover my own language while trying to explain it. This is educational for both of us, although I’m not sure the original lesson always gets the attention it deserves.

One of my favorite examples was the word “hangry,” a combination of hungry and angry. I used it spontaneously near the end of one lesson, when it was also getting close to Fabiano’s lunchtime. He loved the word and immediately understood the concept. He left the call promising me he wouldn’t be hangry much longer.

Then there was the discussion about his academic paper being “camera ready.” Fabiano was proud that his paper had reached that stage. I understood what he meant, but I didn’t immediately recognize the expression as academic terminology. To me, camera-ready sounded like something you would say about a person who had finally combed his hair before a photograph.

Fabiano had to explain the usage to me. This was a refreshing change from our usual arrangement, in which I get to explain English to him. I am not in academia, and I don’t pretend to understand all its terminology. I was happy to let him have that one.

Of course, the conversation eventually returned to my superior intelligence and beauty. I try to remain humble about these things.

We Don’t Always Stay on Topic

The truth is that Fabiano and I don’t have many conversations that follow a predictable path. We talk about his studies, his life, my family, my landscaping projects, and the hockey players who live with us during the season. He asks about my granddaughter Ellie and likes to see her on camera when she’s around. I ask about his life in Brazil, his interests, and whatever he has been doing since our last call.

He has told me about Brazilian beaches, including the unpleasant experience of visiting one when the weather is cold and rainy. We’ve discussed religion, missionaries, books, music, and the dirty sodas that have become popular around here. I have explained some of the oddities of American culture, and he has helped me understand parts of Brazilian life that I would otherwise know only through travel stories or the internet.

There are weeks when I have to carry most of the conversation because he’s tired. Other weeks, I have trouble getting us back to the lesson. Neither of us is a particularly good actor, so there’s no point pretending a conversation is fascinating when it isn’t. We show up as ourselves and work with whatever we have that day.

I sometimes dread these calls before they begin. I look at the clock and think, “What am I doing? What am I going to talk about for an hour?” Then we connect, get past the first few minutes, and usually find our rhythm. If I find myself looking at the clock too much, I often think I could have prepared a little better. On the days we run over, I know I did just fine.

I don’t know whether Fabiano would say he gets as much out of these conversations as I do. He has told me he would be happy to meet twice a week, but I haven’t figured out how to add another hour to my schedule without inconveniencing the rest of my life. We make adjustments when babies, academic demands, or other obligations get in the way. Otherwise, we keep showing up.

That’s how a friendship can sneak up on you. You start out with a purpose and a schedule, and then the person on the other end of the screen becomes someone you genuinely want to hear from.

So Why Do We Keep Doing This?

I didn’t go into online English reading expecting to become friends with people scattered across the planet, but it has happened with several of my readers. One of them, a young man from Poland, has become almost like a grandson to me. Fabiano and I took a little longer to find our groove. During the time we’ve known each other, he finished his master’s degree, began his doctorate, and moved through some significant changes in his personal life. As he became more comfortable with himself, our conversations became easier and more relaxed.

I like hearing about his life, and I hope he likes hearing about mine. He gets to practice English with someone who will slow down, explain a word, or ask whether I’ve understood what he meant. I get a window into a life and a culture I wouldn’t otherwise know nearly as well. We don’t have to share all the same interests to enjoy each other’s company.

One thing I’ve learned is that people like to feel needed and appreciated for who they are. That sounds simple enough, but it’s easy to forget when we’re busy with our own routines. I may not be able to help Fabiano with his doctoral research, and he probably isn’t going to ask me to coach his favorite sport. But we can give each other an hour of attention every week. We can ask questions, share stories, laugh at each other, and occasionally learn something useful.

Near the end of one recent call, Fabiano said he didn’t know why he liked me. I suggested that it was a character flaw. He assured me he wasn’t teasing me that time. I reminded him that he keeps showing up every week, which seems like fairly compelling evidence.

My social circle in Oklahoma isn’t enormous. Add the people I talk with online, though, and I cast a pretty wide shadow over this planet. I like the idea that a few conversations can make somebody’s week a little better, even if all I’ve contributed is a vocabulary word or a questionable explanation of American culture.

And if all else fails, I can tell Fabiano I’m drinking a dirty soda while he works on his doctorate. I may have the air conditioning, but he’s the one working toward a doctorate. I’m not sure which of us has life figured out.

Amen Ambassador

This is a further explanation of one of the titles included on my “semi-retired” business card. (Amen Ambassador)

I’ve been involved with a program called “Let’s Start Talking” (LST) for a good number of years now. My daughters and I even trekked to Hungary almost a decade ago for a mission trip under their banner, but my real “boots on the ground” work happens right here at my desk with my “readers.”

What exactly is a “reader”? In my case, it’s a revolving door of international men who want to polish their English. Before COVID, this involved actual human contact at coffee shops or libraries. These days, it’s mostly me staring at a webcam. We use LST materials that cleverly disguise English challenges—like the dreaded verb conjugation—inside biblical lessons on sin, grace, and salvation.

I’ve worked with men from Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Vietnam, and Ecuador(all pre-Covid and in person). I’ve learned about their customs, tasted their food, and generally enjoyed the “armchair traveler” lifestyle. I did have one female reader from Hungary once (early-Covid), but that taught me a lesson in boundaries. She was preparing for marriage and telling me things about her fiancé that made me want to bail out of the conversation. I figured any marital advice she needed should come from a woman, not me. I arranged a “handoff” to a female teacher, but she apparently wasn’t a fan of the trade. She never showed up again, though I see her on Facebook with a baby now, so she clearly survived my attempt at mentorship.

The Current Roster I currently have three regulars. They are all academically driven, though their personalities couldn’t be more different:

  • The Long-Hauler (Asia): I’m keeping his specific country a mystery to avoid any international incidents. We’ve been at this for five years. I’ve “walked” with him through a doctorate in Europe and watched his son grow up via pixels. We spend 40 minutes talking about everything from personal pictures to politics before I “cherry-pick” devotions that contain enough big words to keep him on his toes.
  • The Enthusiast (Brazil): He’s been around for about four years. He is the walking definition of the Brazilian stereotype—emotional, enthusiastic, and loud. He’s met my granddaughter on Zoom (he asks about her every call), and I’ve met his mother. She doesn’t speak a lick of English, but she’s promised me a world-class meal if I ever show up in her kitchen. He is a fantastic, high-energy contrast to my more reserved Asian reader.
  • The Academic (Poland): He started with me in high school and is now a university student. He’s an only child who passionately describes every meal and movie in his life. Because of the age gap, I have to work a little harder to stay “relatable” (pray for me). He’s Catholic by heritage but mostly just a moral guy with no real interest in faith. I keep showing up anyway. Even if the conversations aren’t always “deep,” we both usually learn something by the time the timer hits zero.

The Logistics of Grace Aside from “showing up,” the hardest part of being an Amen Ambassador is basic math. Keeping track of time zones is a nightmare. Europe changes their clocks on a different schedule than the US, and my Asian and Brazilian readers don’t change their clocks at all. I much prefer the 9:00 AM meetings over the 8:00 AM ones—mostly because my brain functions significantly better with that extra hour of blood waking it up.

Could I do more? Probably. But at this stage, my wife and I have agreed that our own kids and grandkids are our primary mission field. We’re working to give them a foundation that won’t crack when life gets messy. If I’m held to account on the other side of the grave, I’ll be fine knowing my family came before any other “mission goals” I might have entertained.

God might have other things He’d like us to take on, and those may have to live in the “regret” folder of my mind for now. But I refuse to let my family be part of any regret.


Take On The Challenge

As I was nearing the end of my walk today at the park, a boy on a scooter approached me.  As I tried to figure out what side of the sidewalk he was going to take, he uttered, “Are you going to take on the challenge?” before slowly surfing down the paved hill.  It was clear what his challenge was–he was going to see how far he could coast without pushing off.  My challenge was a little less clear.  So, the kid forced me to think…

  • What are you going to do today in trade for another day of life?
  • Who did you make feel better about themselves today?
  • Were you a helper or someone who avoided helping those who needed it?
  • Did you show those you loved that you cared for them today?  Do you need to have a bigger list so you are more challenged?
  • Did you laugh today?  Did you make someone else laugh?
  • Did you feel empathy for someone who hurts? (Preferably someone you know personally.  There is a spectrum of hurt–it can land anywhere on that spectrum.)
  • What did you do today that will be remembered tomorrow?  For how many tomorrows will it still be remembered?
  • Do you think you were more good than bad today?
  • What reward do you think your opinion deserves?

It seems I have come to a point where I am challenging you to think about where you will spend eternity.  Am I allowed to do that?  Could it hurt someone’s feelings?  In the past, forcing a person to think about their eternity was effective.  In the present, a discussion about eternity could trigger someone.  If anyone is curious about the hereafter and what you can do now to affect your eternity, please contact me on the contact form for this site.

Greetings From The Curb

When I get an idea while walking, I pull out my Iphone and attempt to capture my thoughts.  While sometimes the voice capture feature does okay, most times it leaves me a little wanting.  If I capture a note and fail to review it within a day or so, I often can’t recognize my original thought.  Today’s thought was supposed to be, “Grading on the curve”.  My chosen English female friend on my Iphone chose to record this as “greetings from the curb”.  I can blame the wind or my inability to enunciate clearly.  The point is if I were writing this next week, I might have no idea what the note was a reminder of.

Why did I feel the need to capture this thought?  I was trying to find a way to describe what God does with us.  Does God award heaven on a curve?  No.  This is assuming you have already confessed you are unable to “do” salvation on your own.  You recognize you need a Savior, and His name is Christ.  My thought comes in a post-conversion situation. (Or post being born-again or being saved or “washed in the blood”.  I hope this is completely clear what I am referring to.)

God had given us all different abilities.  He has given us different strengths and weaknesses.  He does not hold us all to the same level of service.  He wants all of our hearts and our lives.  We don’t become us thru the efforts of a cookie cutter.  We are all uniquely made and given unique talents and abilities.  We may be similar to others on the outside, but on the inside we have talents given to us by God.  These talents allow us to reach unsaved people in a variety of different ways.

As I live my life, I often ask the question, “Am I doing enough? With all of the potential I believe I have, am I doing enough to justify a “C” grade?” (Depending on another person’s ability, if they were to do what I have done, they might justify an “A”. )  So, if I am figuratively on the curb, what more can I do to give a better witness of He who gave all for me? When I get off of the curb is there a grading curve?  Are all types of witnessing good action or does God make us accountable for the decisions we make in regards to how our witnessing/evangelizing time is spent(or not spent)?

I know we don’t just get an “A” for effort.  I regularly seek God’s will, and I encourage you to do the same.  If there is a good-better-best plan for my life, I want best.  If there is a plan that involves lots of trusting God, I pray I have the ability to turn all of my fears over to my Maker. And, if there is a plan that relies on us depleting our savings and relying entirely on God, then may our kids forgive us for doing what God has asked us to do.

I know God realizes what I wrote, but do I?  I think I do, now may He put the pieces in place to allow it to occur.

 

Blessed Eggs

As the “alarm clock” (My mother calling from a time zone to the east) went off this morning, the day began.  With everyone needing to be out of the house by 10:00 (or so I thought), the coffee got going and the breakfast options were decided.

I had boring toast. Even though it was some special new flavor from the discount bakery, it worked well with peanut butter, so I was content. My wife pulled out the eggs to get her diet its necessary protein fix.  I wrongly assumed the eggs were for her, when she had already decided they were for my son.  As my son (the one heading to a day of food prep at Chick Fil A) watches my wife make his eggs for his breakfast this morning, I scold him for letting her do it.

He casually replies, "I am making the toast."
Unfazed, I reply, "I could make toast in a body cast."

My son and I laugh.  My wife glares.  My daughters look annoyed as they turn up the volume and continue watching the DVRed “Once Upon A Time.” As my sons scrambled eggs are plated with toast on the side, my wife finishes the carton with the eggs that will serve as her breakfast. Before putting the egg carton in the trash, she glances on the inside lid.  She is rewarded with a bit of inspiration.

CIMG0360

Psalms 118:24 This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Prior to realizing this message was inside the carton, I was just glad to get eggs at $0.79 a dozen from Aldi’s .  (Below cost, but it certainly sucks me in the door.) Now that I know this message is there, I think I will smile a little bigger knowing somebody, somewhere cares enough about my eggs and my day to sneak in a bit of encouragement.  If an egg carton can encourage, what can I do to encourage the people I interact with today?

Conversation While Cleaning the Wok

As we did a little Korean cooking this weekend in our wok, the need to clean the wok for that meal and for sins in previous cleaning was scheduled with our Chinese student on Sunday afternoon. She has such a great heart to take the lead in this task, so even though I had done yard work already, I was glad to find out proper wok maintenance from an expert.

As we used a green scratchy pad and a little “soft” soap to clean the wok, we did quite a bit of talking. She told about her experiences with the exchange student process. And, she informed me she was not very interested in attending the orientation weekend with the other exchange students this weekend – her mother would not sign the paperwork to grant her permission. I am sure I volunteered some other info on our family as well. As the wok got shinier, our conversation got deeper.

“Is your son a Christian?”, she asked. (This question surprised me a bit. Culturally, she is not any religion. She has been willing to participate in the parts of our life that actively make us Christians. We hope all areas of our life reflect our faith, but she has actively participated in church and attending Christian school with my daughters.)

I replied, “He has chosen not to be right now.”  (Of course, this is a disappointment to us, but we are working on understanding why this is so.  We are trusting God to bring him back in His time.)

“That is odd.  I thought he would be a Christian if his parents were Christians.”, she stated.

I replied (I don’t remember exactly, but it went something like this), “He went to a Christian school for 13 years.  And, once he graduated, he decided it was not important to him right now.  He still has a good heart, but he does not see the importance of many of the things his mother and I believe.  He knows Jesus died for his sins (I tried to make sure she had some knowledge of this.  I did not want to over explain.  I wanted to answer her question w/ the hope I would give her enough to think it over further.  She is almost certain to think something over before she speaks.), but he is not interested in that right now.  We hope he chooses to make the decision to follow Jesus again.  It is his decision to make to follow Jesus – his mother and I can’t make it for him.” (Due to any language and or “Christian-lingo” words, I may have had to state or restate the above in a slightly different way.)

There was additional back and forth to clarify a couple of details – I didn’t take the reigns of the conversation.  She asked, and I answered.  Based on knowing her 2.5 weeks, she is a thinker.  She will have more questions, and when she does, I hope and pray I am able to provide information to allow her to continue to be curious and ask questions.