One of the biggest challenges on mission trips is communicating when you don’t speak the language.

While in Cuba, Adventures Staff, Kristen, gave herself permission to fail when it came to speaking Spanish perfectly, and God did something amazing.

“Hey, Kristen, can you come here? I don’t understand what’s she’s trying to say. . .”

It was my first full day in Cuba, Easter Sunday, and church had just ended. A bunch of us had just leaned over a railing and watched a pizza delivery guy give the person at the door a stack of delicious smelling boxes and drive away: our lunch. There was also a large amount of people still milling around from the church service in the pastor’s home, talking excitedly with each other and with us.

As Colby explained to us the day we arrived, the church lives in community in Cuba. They care about each other and share life together. And that means lingering after church even with growling stomachs.

I was hungry, but honestly, I was more tired than anything. I didn’t get much sleep for the two nights before, and trying to understand Spanish was wearing on my mind. I’m not fluent, as much as I’d like to be. The truth is that I understand it better than I speak it.

My joke is that I speak it well enough to get myself into trouble, but not well enough to get myself out of it.

I wasn’t really sure if I’d be able to help my teammate, but why not try? So I went over and tried to talk with this sweet lady. Stumbling over my words and her meaning, we had some form of conversation. Then another teammate called out to me. She had three little girls chattering at her, so I broke away to see if I could help.

When it comes to speaking Spanish, children are my sweet spot. Probably because my vocabulary is about as extensive as a 4-year-old’s attention span can last. They usually run away right about the time my mind blanks on correctly-phrased sentences.

These girls were older though, so we reached my limit pretty quickly. They didn’t quite understand the language barrier and would just keep yelling louder and louder, gesturing bigger and bigger, if I said I didn’t understand. But between the five of us, we had fun.

When it was time for lunch, I sat down to pizza feeling surprised. I’d held my own—though terribly—in a conversation that wasn’t my first language. I’d communicated, and it felt victorious even though it wasn’t perfect.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a country where I can attempt the language. Hindi and Thai are beyond me. I’m so used to that sometimes I forget to try my Spanish. I practice it in my mind but when it comes to speaking, I usually look for a translator.

But for some reason I can’t explain, on Easter Sunday, I gave myself permission to fail.

For me, that was the theme of ministry in Cuba: taking chances on using my voice in an area of weakness (another language), even if it meant making a mistake.

Our team partnered with a ministry that raises up and sends out pastors and missionaries, so we went to several church plants over the course of the week. These churches met in the homes of the pastors, in rooms that had been cleared of furniture just for that purpose. Most of the time, we spilled out onto hallways, balconies, and alleys. Once we met outside in a yard in the country. Another time we all ate together on a roof. And then there was the time a bunch of churches came together, rode a bus out to the beach, and baptized 9 people (8 adults and 1 boy).

In the mornings we usually went to a different church plant and met there with the leaders of the church. We’d share from the Bible, worship together (like the video on the last post), or talk about current issues. Then we’d go out into the community. This is the coolest part:

This trip was the first time an Adventures team was able to openly share the Gospel in Havana in over 50 years.

Before, it’s always been that teams could invite people to the churches (homes), and then share. But now, Cuba is open. So instead of inviting people to church, (which we did), we were able to directly tell them about Christ!

This was my favorite part of the ministry we did. It’s also the hardest for me as an introvert. Walking up to people I don’t know doesn’t come naturally. But this has been consistently when I’ve seen God work time and time again when I’ve been on the field, so much so that this is my favorite ministry.

Each day we went out was so different. At first, I struggled with the language barrier. I was in a group without a translator, just a teammate who spoke Spanish really well. At one point while he was talking with someone, I went over to talk with this lady, spending a few moments hearing her story (she had 14 children!) and telling her God loves her.

After that, I just took a deep breath and gave myself permission to fail.

The next day, I went out with a different group. We had a translator, but I felt more at ease as well. And we met the most amazing woman, who had spent her life sewing and teaching literacy for the Revolution. She opened the door to see us on her doorstep and said, “A surprise!” invited us in, and told us about her life.

My favorite day was the next, when my teammate, Berny, and I went out with a translator. It was a hot, hot day, and we ended up in a park. We saw a young woman sit on a bench, and then an another lady joined her, so we decided to go talk with them.

Within seconds of greeting them, we found out that the second woman was almost deaf. She needed not only to communicate in Spanish, but also in sign! Good thing I can sign a little… the next thing I know, Berny is talking to the young woman through our translator and I’m talking with Mary, who was 73, in both Spanish and sign… which basically meant we were communicating across three languages!

My fingers got tangled and sometimes I used the English letter for the sign, but we had a good conversation. It got extra fun when we found out they were Jehovah’s Witnesses and pulled out their Spanish Bibles… then I found myself in areas where I didn’t know the signs or the Spanish words.

I left there excited because though I didn’t deserve it, God used me to share the Gospel in a conversation utilizing three languages.

Immediately after, we went to another side of the park to speak with two more women. They were selling plastic grocery bags to shoppers (there was a small fair going on). At first we were all four talking together, but then we found out that one of the women had lost her son a year ago and was so sad. Berny began to talk with her through our translator.

At first I just listened, but then I glanced at the woman next to me, Reina, and saw her eyes welling with tears. I could tell these women were friends, and that she really cares for her. I felt like I needed to speak with her, so I asked God to help me. Our conversation was slow, but it was beautiful. And later, we were able to connect them with the local pastor there.

God did so much while we were in Cuba. Some groups were able to pass out Bibles to new believers. People were prayed for and introduced to the church in their area. It was so cool to come back from ministry time and hear how God had worked!

Personally, I realized that there was something so much more important than perfection on my part: a willing heart. I was afraid my incorrect signs or Spanish vocabulary would inhibit the presentation of the Gospel; instead, God multiplied my small offering of my willing heart, hands, and mouth, and used it as an opportunity for His glory.

May we all live willing to fail, willing to risk it all, for the sake of the Gospel.

*first photo by Katie Horst

 The Church in Cuba is growing at a rapid rate as the Gospel is being shared throughout the island. You can be part of what God is doing in Cuba. CLICK HERE to find out how you can GO!