A Baptist Doesn’t Speak

blog5deerMy first memory of having that deer in the headlights look was in the Summer of 1971 at R.A. Camp working with deaf campers. If Carl, my interpreter, left for a moment, then there I was not having a clue what the campers were saying. I had that look many times in many languages. Many times I didn’t have that look but understood what was spoken. My sophomore year I took a course on Sunday nights in sign language which prepared me for the next two summers when I was blessed with deaf campers but no interpreter.

The deer in the headlights look shows up in more than one chapter because that is the best way to describe how I felt. Going on vacation or a week long mission trip is different than living in a new culture and language.


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