Language of Love Learning a language never is easy. No one told me it would be.

Though, when I was told I needed to learn a new language, I was confident I could do it with ease. Nothing was ever too hard for me. Learning a new language turned out to be the exception. This is the story of how a new language broke me down and built me back up again. Confidence has always been one of my strongest characteristics. I have always excelled at whatever was asked of me. School was never difficult, I was always on varsity sports teams, and I had a knack for leading others. I decided to follow my religious tradition of serving a mission, and I decided to excel at it. I arrived at the Provo Missionary Training Center (MTC) on March 30, 2011. I had been called to serve in the Oaxaca Mexico Mission. I was called to preach in Spanish. I was eager to start learning and preparing for a mission in Mexico. I was more than willing to begin a new journeyin another language. I walked into the classroom after a tearful and joyous goodbye from my family. Buenas tardes! Bienvenidos al CCM! Estoy muy animado por ustedes y la oportunidad que tienen a server al Seor! the teacher cheerfully said. Fear, unpreparedness, and desperateness immediately rushed to my mind. What was I getting myself into? Why did I volunteer for this? How am I ever going to understand this? Why didnt I try harder in 9th grade Spanish? I had no experience with Spanish. I had taken a class in middle school, and failed it. My familiarity with Spanish wasnt great. I knew less than the basics. Colors, days of the week, and numbers 1-10 were the extent of my knowledge. I was the only one in our small class that

wasnt well prepared. Everyone else had memorized, although poorly, several paragraphs that created a foundation of understanding. I felt smaller than ever. Weeks later my stay at the MTC was coming to an end. One night while stressing instead of sleeping, I came to a realization. My stay at the MTC had the purpose of preparing me to teach in Spanish. Problem being, my stay was short. I had only 8 weeks to learn all I could about Spanish before being forced into a new strange world. I knew the only way to succeed as a missionary would be to learn the rules of the language. Instead of sleeping I jumped right out of bed, got out my workbook, and got to work. I didnt sleep at all that night. Need had set in. It was no longer a desire, it was a central need. I was newly invested in learning. What once seemed difficult now appeared attainable, yet trying. This was the turning point in my learning. The few remaining class sessions were no longer to make jokes and enjoy entertaining errors by others. Every moment was an opportunity to learn. I got a grasp on the rules. My understanding of vocabulary still wasnt great, but I knew how to form sentences and use grammar concepts. I didnt have a complete understanding of Spanish; in fact, I could barely speak. My confidence, though, was through the roof. I got off the plane exuding self-assurance. This time, I had a reason to be assured. I was submerged. I now had no way to fake and joke my way through Spanish classes because everything was in a foreign language. Without trying, every day I was learning. Regular conversation walking through the hot and humid streets was now an opportunity to ask questions and grow my lexis. Teaching appointments with complete strangers were now group class sessions. Everyone was willing to help, and I was making progress. I began to be conversational, interactive, and familiar in Spanish. Compliments swarmed me on a regular

basis. I was beginning to be a prolific Spanish speaker after just a short time. After just a year in Mexico I was finally one of the best. I had completed my goal of becoming fluent in Spanish. Yet again I was successful in my undertaking. Spanish broke me down just a short time ago, but it had built me back up. I was praised for a great understanding of a foreign language. I was respected for accepting a culture and philosophy, making it my own. I was accepted in society for unconditionally loving and teaching a people that was not my own. All of that was possible because I knew their languageone of love.