Autobiography Challenge

Hallelujah No Translation Required

Tears.  Why oh why won’t you stop?  Why am I a complete mess this morning?  There must be a reason. If I don’t pull myself together soon I don’t know what is going to happen.  Why does he have to leave? Can’t he see that I am in no state to be left alone for an hour let alone a week?  I can see it clearly now, he is off on his mission in the countryside and all I do is watch romantic comedies all day (every day) and eat Western food.  Maybe he’s right.  I will bankrupt us grieving alone.  Oh, so that’s it. Rachel went to heaven one month ago.   Didn’t the book my mom sent me say that anniversaries are super sensitive?  That makes total sense now.  Please, oh please, take me with you!

My inner dialogue was forgotten a week and a half later as we made our way down the meandrous road on a bright summer afternoon after a successful week of village doctor training in the Yunnan countryside.  The views were spectacular with the steep mountain on one side and a deep river valley on the other punctuated by whole communities of rural villagers with their houses precariously built into the mountainside.  Conversations flowed easily broken only by the occasional honking of our driver’s horn rounding the next bend on the narrow road, making our presence known to anyone going up the mountain path.  We were making great time on a trip usually reserved for overnight buses. 

Up ahead we came to a sudden halt.  A group of Lisu villagers were gathered in the middle of the road prancing around in a circle singing what were obviously praise songs.  We couldn’t understand any of their words except the intermittent “Hallelujah”.  No translation needed for that one.  We had stumbled upon a church celebration! 

Having been on the road for a couple of hours we took the opportunity to stop for a rest.  We must have been quite a sight, an international array of doctors and their families piling out of the car.  Standing on the sidelines we watched in amazement as everyone danced in synchronization without skipping a beat.  It wasn’t long before the bravest among us was answering their call to join them.  Grabbing hands, one by one we succumbed to clumsily learning new steps while being watched.  The universal language of smiles and laughter eased our embarrassment and lightened our hearts.  We arrived as strangers and parted as friends having participated in an act of worship together praising the same God no matter our languages or dancing skills. 

The impromptu mingle may have lasted only a few moments but the memories will stay with me forever.  In fact, that was the defining moment of the best summer I had in China and the best therapy for my broken heart after losing my first child to miscarriage.