On our most recent trip to the village, we decided to fly instead of drive. As a result, when we would go to town, we would take a PMV (public motor vehicle) instead of driving our own truck. One morning as Martha, the kids, and I were getting on a PMV to go to town, the PMV driver invited me to sit down in the front passenger seat. So I got in, shut the door, and sat down. The PMV driver greeted me by shaking my hand. Then he said to me, “You are a strong man.” Now, I know enough about myself to realize that I am not in danger of winning any World’s Strongest Man competitions, so I began wondering why the driver said this to me.
As we got into town, the man sitting in the front middle seat wanted to get out of the PMV. So the driver stopped, and I got out of my seat to let the man in the middle seat get out. Then I got back into the PMV and shut the door. Again the PMV driver said to me, “You are a strong man.” Now I was really confused because I know that I am not very strong, and so why would the driver make this same statement to me a second time?
Finally, we got to our stop in town. As I got out of the PMV and was about to shut the door, the driver said to me, “The door does not work well; please close it gently.” Then it dawned on me! When the driver had said, “You are a strong man,” what he meant was, “You are shutting the door of the PMV too hard; please shut it more gently so that it does not break.”
This is a perfect example of how Papua New Guineans communicate in an indirect manner. I am sure that there have been many times when people tried to communicate something to me that I totally missed because I did not grasp the hidden meaning. And I am sure there have been times when I inadvertently communicated something I had not intended to communicate because people were looking for some hidden meaning lying beneath what I had actually said. Cross-cultural communication can be so difficult sometimes!
A PMV driver in Papua New Guinea |
We will be finishing up our final edits this month in preparation for recording the Enga New Testament beginning in February. The recording process will probably take two to three months to complete. Inevitably we will make more minor changes as we make the recording. Once the recording is finished, we will finalize the typesetting for the New Testament. Our plan is to produce two editions: an Enga-English New Testament and an Enga-only New Testament. Please pray for us as we finish our final edits and begin the recording process.
A picture of my dad and me from 2015 |
Last month I shared the news that my dad had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. On December 6, we found out that he only had a week to a month to live. I had been planning on flying to my parents’ house on Friday, December 16, but when I learned more about my dad’s prognosis, I changed my flights to leave a week earlier on Friday, December 9. After a long trip, I was able to get to my parents’ house on Saturday, December 10, very early in the morning. It was the first time it was only my mom, my dad, my sisters, and me in over twenty years. Although my dad was very weak and could only make very short statements, we enjoyed a beautiful morning together as a family. I was able to sit by my dad’s side, hold his hand in mine, and then pray with him along with my mom and sisters. I was also able to lean over and hug him, and he still had the strength to squeeze my hand and say, “It will be OK.” About 3:30 that afternoon he went upstairs to his room because he was so exhausted. We took turns sitting with him and doing our best to help him and make him comfortable. Although my dad’s body was failing, his mind was still very sharp. The next day was very difficult as my dad was becoming too weak to do anything at all. My sister Brook and I slept in his room that night, waking up every 15 to 20 minutes to help my dad with whatever he needed. Each time I would lie down again, I would pray to God to take my dad home because I knew how difficult it was for him and how uncomfortable he was. The next day God took my dad home. He is now at peace. No more pain. No more suffering. No more cancer. We had his memorial service on Monday, December 19, which you can view at tinyurl.com/ypuav6cx. I am scheduled to depart for Papua New Guinea on January 3. Thank you for your prayers!