In a spurt of interest in sign language, years ago I learned how to do How Much is That Doggie in the Window? The gesture for dog is simple enough, being a snap/slap on the hip. Kitty, too, is memorable with pulling on imaginary whiskers. It seemed like a token effort to help children learn how to communicate with people whose ears fail them.

I have never had a real time chance to use it, though. Once there was a family in the pool at the YMCA using ASL, and I could have barged in with my lyrics. But I am not a great swimmer and needed to use my arms for other purposes, like keeping my toddler's head above water. 

Last week in my overnight shift I visited a man who is deaf. There was an interpreter on the building, but when I went she was on her break. I felt at a loss to connect with him. I briefly considered launching into the song, but it seemed inappropriate in a hospital setting. I came back later and the interpreter was by his door. We went in. He had asked for a chaplain, and seemed pleased that I tried again. He said things with his hands quickly, and I watched the interpreter.

"Look at him, not at me," she reprimanded. Of course.

He described the pain in his leg, and his worries about the surgery. I offered empathy, which somehow made it through the transformation of visual cues. I asked if he was comfortable, and he assured me that the nurses were taking care of him. We are not supposed to suggest prayer, but rather respond when asked, so that did not happen. He may have been open to it. I took the liberty of praying for him when I went back to the office to chart visits. 

There have been other patients whose native tongue was different from mine, and the hospital has personnel to fill in the gaps. There have been languages I did not know existed, even one that the notes described as spoken, not written. How does that work? 

Bumping up against the wide expanse of life experiences has been one of the goals I articulated in taking on this program. It has happened. My world has been homogeneous, and I feel comfortable in it. But being uncomfortable is not too big a price to pay for seeing the depth of God's sprawling love.