Start At The Beginning and Tell Me Everything: Manuela’s Story
Manuela and her husband, Manuel, visited deaf church with a friend about 10 years ago. They were both deaf and in their 50s. They had raised two sons and were looking forward to being grandparents. With chin-length black hair, honest eyes, and a pleasant, straight smile, Manuela made me feel at ease.
After a couple of visits to the deaf church, Manuel said he was not interested, but Manuela continued to come. She, like most of the deaf, had seen pictures of Bible stories but never had anyone explain them to her in Portuguese Sign Language (LGP). Whenever we asked meek-mannered Manuela if she wanted to meet with us to study the Bible, our conversations would go like this:
Missionaries: “Manuela, could we meet with you to talk more about the Bible?”
Manuela: “Oh, that’s ok. I’d hate to bother you.”
Missionaries: “That’s what we’re here for. We’d love to!”
Manuela: “Really, I don’t want to be a bother.”
Missionaries: “Manuela, we got on an airplane, flew across the ocean, moved to your town, and learned your language. Do you know why? So we could tell YOU about God! Please let us tell you about Him!”
Manuela: A sideways glance and her shy smile.
It took a couple of years of convincing, but FINALLY Manuela agreed. She had one hour between when she got home from work and when she had to take care of her mother-in-law. Every week at that time when I entered Manuela’s kitchen, she had her rice on the stove and her picture Bible on the table. The first day, we sat down, she opened her Bible, and said, “Start at the beginning, and tell me everything.”
Um, Manuela, this is a very long book. It’s going to take a while.”
She shook her head, looked at me, and said, “Tell me everything.”
“OK,” I said.
I started with Creation and told her all I could for 60 minutes. The next week was 60 minutes more.
Week after week, hour after hour, the stories poured off my hands. Adam and Eve. Noah. Abraham. Isaac. Jacob. Joseph. Had she ever seen these stories before? No, she said.
When we hit Judges, all she could say was, “This is a violent book!”
Sometimes I didn’t know the signs, and Manuela helped me. Sometimes I summarized a book, like Numbers. Once we reached the prophets, I showed her a few Messianic prophecies. She suddenly said, “That’s going to be about Jesus!”
It took over a year, but we reached the Gospels. Once we started the book of Acts, I said, “Manuela, you have Jesus in your head. Would you like to have Him in your heart?” I explained about believing in your heart and confessing Him as Lord. I asked, “Are you a sinner?” She nodded. “Do you believe Jesus died to save you?” She nodded again. “Then, do you want to tell Him that and ask Him to save you?” She wasn’t sure how. I encouraged her to just sign it to Him or tell Him silently and ask Him to save her. She did. Right there at that kitchen table, she asked Jesus to save her. I cried for joy. And Manuela—she cracked her sweet, shy smile.
Manuela was very private. She didn’t want to tell everyone right away. We arranged a lunch at my house with our coworkers who did deaf church with us. After lunch, she quietly told them, “I asked Jesus into my heart.” I’ll never forget their faces. We took a photo together that day, which Manuela posted on Facebook with the caption: “I am in a group, and I accept God.” For shy, quiet Manuela, that was quite the declaration.
Last year, I went to Manuela’s house for some more visits. This time we were in her living room. It had been over a decade since we’d met. She was retired and enjoying her grandkids. But she was fighting cancer. In her quiet, private way, she didn’t want people to know. I shed a few more tears with her, and she smiled in resignation.
Last week, Manuela went to heaven. I had many thoughts during her funeral. I saw her husband, Manuel, still unsaved and uninterested in God, and I prayed for him and his sons to want to know Him. I looked at the room full of deaf people. Though we have told many about Christ, we know of only a handful of Portuguese deaf people who have trusted Him as their Savior, and it makes me sad but motivated to continue making Him known. I imagined Manuela in heaven with Abraham, Joseph, and the other Bible characters that we’d studied, smiling her sweet smile, and worshipping the God that she so calmly accepted.
Was it worth getting on a plane, crossing an ocean, learning another language, and telling Manuela about Jesus? Absolutely. See you again soon, sweet friend.
