¡Hola! ¿Tú entiendes? (Hello! Do you understand?)

Proverbs 16:1-2

“To humans belong the plans of the heart, 

but from the Lord comes the proper answer of the tongue.

All a person’s ways seem pure to them, 

but motives are weighed by the Lord.”

Recently I read a prayer during my devotions that disturbed me greatly. Not because I didn’t understand it, but because I wondered how it might sound to someone whose life is defined by trouble, whose faith has been shaped by fear or displacement.

“God, thank you for redeeming every part of my life.

You are a hiding place for me,

And you preserve me from trouble.

When I run to you – I am safe. Thank you.

Today, please show me how you are protecting me.

Guard my mind and my heart.

Please continue to preserve my life.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

The prayer caused me to pause and consider what it meant to be “preserved from trouble.” As I reflected on the last two experiences I had with our Spanish-speaking cohorts, whose members come from a variety of countries, I thought about the people who wholly rely on Jesus and yet find themselves unsafe.

One of our cohort colleagues spoke about the realities many migrant communities have been facing in places they thought they could comfortably call “home.” Before joining us on an international trip, he confessed that he had been holding back from public statements about injustice in the United States for fear that when he returned, he might be targeted or detained for his prophetic witness. On the one hand, he wanted to feel safe. On the other hand, he knew that confronting injustice might cost that very safety. I realized how delicate our freedom is when safety and justice feel like they’re on unstable ground.

Proverbs 16 speaks of leadership as a sacred trust: “Righteous lips are the delight of kings, and they love those who speak what is right.” Power should be exercised with wisdom, fairness, and care for those who are vulnerable. But when leaders lose that sense of moral responsibility – whether in government, the church, or community life – their words no longer protect; they harm. We need leaders who not only speak wisely but listen humbly, who understand what it means to be unsafe, unheard, or unseen.

Faith is experienced and expressed differently depending on where you stand. What feels like a comforting prayer to one person may feel like an impossible one to another. For some, “preserved from trouble” means physical safety. For others, it means the courage to speak truth even when safety is gone. We need each other to hold these tensions faithfully, because none of us can see the full picture of what God is doing on our own.

The greatest lesson I’ve learned from my brothers and sisters in these Spanish-speaking cohorts is the depth of humility that comes from being around people whose experiences of the world are so different from mine. These sisters and brothers live in a world that constantly demands translation of words, of meaning, of belonging. I often missed the nuances of their language as they moved easily between Spanish and English. After hours of translating in my head, I grew weary of my own limits and realized how much I needed them to help me hear what I could not hear on my own. And I was humbled by the fact that they live this way every day, carrying fatigue and grace into every conversation, every prayer, every act of faith in a country that is both home and not home.

The church needs diversity, not as performance or a “box” to check off, but as an avenue for revelation and spiritual maturity. When we are surrounded only by those whose struggles mirror our own, our theology becomes thin and self-protective. But when we listen to the stories of those whose challenges are different from ours, we glimpse the wideness of God’s mercy and the strength of God’s people. We remember that when one part of the body of Christ suffers, the whole body mourns, and that those who have suffered most often carry the deepest wisdom about hope, endurance, and grace.


Questions for Reflection:

  1. When have you recently paused to consider how words of faith or prayer might sound to someone whose life circumstances are very different from your own? What did that reveal about your understanding of safety, faith, or trust in God?
  2. Are there moments when you have struggled to understand how others experience God, justice, or hope? How do you practice humility and openness in those moments of not fully understanding?
  3. Have you had to spend time listening and learning about another language and culture that is different from your own? What was that like? And how did you feel when things had to be translated for you?
No Comments

Post A Comment