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Babylon’s One Language

Today I had another “Georgian as my second language” experience. It all started because I have finally found 2 people to help me practice my newly developed language “skills” (I use that term loosely). Since I will be spending a couple of hours with each of them every week, I did what is expected of Georgians – I baked something to give as a gift when I enter their home. Banana bread – that’s all I wanted to make. But as I popped my first loaf into the oven, I realized I didn’t have enough sugar to make additional loaves. So, I ran to the little market down the block. 

The little store only had one bag of sugar left. And it wasn’t a large bag either. I attempted to ask them if they had any more in the back, but it went terribly wrong. They kept telling me that there was no discount on sugar, but if I was looking for butter, they just marked down one brand that they carry. I kept telling them no thanks, I needed more sugar. And they just kept telling me there was no discount. So I purchased my little bag of sugar and left. 

As I was walking home, it dawned on me what had just taken place. I was using the word for “more”, meaning higher. Not the word for “additional”. They thought I was trying to get them to give me a cheaper price on the sugar, not get additional bags. Aye carumba! 

Tonight at the church prayer meeting, the church elders began to explain to one of the new believers about the story of the Tower of Babel, and how everyone spoke one language until God scattered the people and confused their tongues. And it hit me that I can blame them for all of my language issues here in Georgia! 

Not really, but it did make me think about how we communicate with God. No matter how confused our tongue may get, no matter how much we stumble to find the right words, God always gets our true meaning. And since we have the Holy Spirit in us, we can always fall back on our spirit language to help! I am so grateful that I have a God that wants to speak to me, wants to hear from me, and is willing to be patient when it’s just too difficult to put my thoughts and feelings into words. 


Born and raised in a Christian home, I felt God calling me to work overseas with children when I was only 11 years old. I graduated from Evangel University in Springfield, MO, and fully intended on serving two to three years in my hometown of Phoenix, then head overseas. But God had other plans. Two years into it, both of my parents began having health problems that continued for over 8 years. Twelve years after my graduation, my parents' health was restored and my student debt was finally paid off. Now, with 14 years of ministry (12 dedicated to ministry to children) under my belt, I am now fulfilling that calling God wrote on my heart at the age of 11. In Telavi, the Republic of Georgia, I am truly living my dream. God is doing some great things here, and I am so thrilled to be apart of it.

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