The Gift of Tongues

I have to confess something. I don't think I am a naturally spiritual person. I have a testimony and I strive to keep the commandments, but my "spiritual experiences" are somewhat rare. The handful of times that I have REALLY felt the Spirit manifest something to me are too precious to post up on a public blog. I know I felt impressed to start this blog the other day, so I find myself wondering what exactly I am supposed to put on it! At first I was frustrated, but now I am beginning to like it. It forces me to look for the spiritual in everyday things. Yesterday at church, I forced myself to pay attention and listen to what the Spirit had to teach me rather than allowing myself to be distracted by keeping my little girl out of other people's diaper bags. (Of course, I did that too...) Anyway, this post will be about what I learned from my newfound concentration.

We live in a student ward which means that a lot of people haven't been off of their missions for very long. Several people in testimony meeting talked about their experiences with foreign languages and several of them still use their language at their current jobs. Then again in Sunday School, and also in Relief Society, the topic of learning a foreign language was brought up as one of the most difficult things that people have had to deal with in their lives. It struck me that I couldn't relate to that comparison.

In high school, my best friend's father was one of the Spanish teachers. She and I both enrolled in Spanish One as Freshmen and did so well with his teaching method that we were bumped up to Spanish Two halfway through the year. My Sophomore year, I took Spanish Three and had a crummy teacher that I didn't learn anything from. I had the same teacher Junior year for Spanish Four. My original enthusiasm for the language was long gone when I took the Spanish AP test at the end of my Junior year. I passed the test and considered myself finished with the language.

My Sophomore year of college when I was 19, my same best friend found out about a service opportunity in El Salvador with an organization called HELP International. She was so excited about it and convinced me to go with her. I remember putting that I was at an "intermediate" level of Spanish on my application for the trip. When we got there, I realized that there was nothing intermediate about my Spanish at all. Sure, I could carry on a brief conversation, but most of the people we worked with were uneducated and used thick accents with lots of slang. I found safety in only talking with the other Americans in our group or asking somebody to translate for me. After being there for a couple of months, that started to not be enough for me. I had grown such a respect and love for the people that I had encountered that I just wanted to be able to TALK to them. I wanted to know them and understand them better. I was so frustrated with myself for not having taken Spanish seriously before I went down there. The remaining two months of the trip loomed before me and I felt like it would never be enough time to learn an entire foreign language and then use it to get to know the people like I wanted to. It was because of this frustration and disappointment with myself that I asked one of the young men on the trip for a priesthood blessing of comfort.

I don't remember much of what was said in that blessing, but I specifically remember the words "gift of tongues" being used. After the blessing, I learned Spanish. It didn't come all at once the next morning, but it came VERY QUICKLY. There was a 10-year-old, chubby little Salvadorian boy named Sebastian that befriended me and was incredibly patient with my shortcomings. I talked with him all day long as we worked and he explained the words that I didn't understand. It's hard to describe, but I was just like a sponge... there was no effort involved in soaking up all the things I learned. In fact, most of the vocabulary I now know, I can tell you the first time I heard the word. I would hear it and it would stick. By the time I left that country, I spoke Spanish.

When my friend and I got back from the trip, we heard of an opportunity to live in the BYU Foreign Language Student Residence (FLSR). You sign a contract that you will only speak the target language while you are in the apartment. You eat meals with other apartments 5 nights a week where you also have to speak the target language. We decided to try it out. It was the BEST ward and complex I have ever been a part of. It was so fun that, after being away for a semester in cheaper housing, I decided it was worth it to go back for one more semester. In order to live in the FLSR, you have to be taking at least one class in the target language. So, when I found out I had to have an education minor in order to be a Health Education major, Spanish Ed seemed the natural choice. Shortly thereafter, I was called on a Spanish-speaking mission to NYC.

Since learning Spanish, I had often felt that there was a reason it came to me so easily. Perhaps the Lord knew that I was lazy but He also knew that He needed me to speak it. So, He gave it to me. I know it is not that way for a lot of people, but it was that way for me. When I got my mission call, I assumed that the reason I was given the language was so that I could be a more effective missionary. Indeed, I spoke better Spanish as a greenie than most of the other missionaries going home. I know it made me a lot more effective than most foreign-speaking missionaries are their first few months.

When I got home from my mission, I assumed that I would lose a lot of my language skills since I had already fulfilled the purpose the Lord had in giving them to me. I finished my Spanish Education minor and graduated. Shortly after graduation, when I was no longer taking Spanish classes, Jason came home with the ad from the paper about the job with JetBlue. Surprisingly, they specifically needed Spanish speakers. Today, I speak Spanish daily for hours on end. I have often been mistaken as a native speaker. I don't speak perfectly, but I speak well and my accent is good. Yesterday in church, it occured to me that perhaps the Lord's purpose in giving me the language has not yet been fulfilled.

Ever since being in El Salvador, opportunities to keep up my skills have fallen into my lap with minimal effort on my part.When I am complimented on my Spanish, I feel slightly guilty saying thanks. I know I don't really deserve the praise. I have a testimony that the Lord does indeed work miracles on the earth today. Often, the miracles are to bless us. I have personally been blessed exponentially from my ability to communicate effectively in another language. Also, the miracles are often to help us bless others. The Spirit whispered to me in Church yesterday that I wasn't through blessing other people through my language skills. That's why I still use them on a daily basis. (It's not just because the Lord wanted me to be able to earn the extra 75 cents an hour for being billingual.) I have had this thought before, but it stood out to me yesterday because I was looking for it. I am so excited to see what the Lord has in store for me and my family. We can be tools in His hands if we are willing. I hope to be a profitable servant and fulfill the purpose the Lord had in giving me the incredible gift of tongues.