When the Lyft driver parked his car twenty yards from where we were standing with our luggage, something felt slightly off. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘huh, that’s different,’ way.
The driver was picking up my family of four from the Salt Lake City International Airport in order to take us to my in-law’s house in the mountains, and he had parked his Lyft directly in front of the “Lyft Pickup” sign at the airport, which was the most perfect, rule-following spot possible.
At the same time, the four of us were only twenty yards beyond that sign with no other cars or people around. Plus, we had a whole lot of luggage that was not going to be fun to drag another twenty yards, especially with two young kids.
He could just pull up a little further, right? But maybe just a ‘to-the-t’ kind of person?
No worries.
We went to him, loaded up… and that “off’ feeling emerged again.
I’m used to Lyft drivers offering some kind of greeting, even if they remain quiet for the rest of the ride, but he said nothing. Not in a bad way as he had a pleasant demeanor. Just in a ‘huh, that’s different,’ way.
Eventually, I spoke, “Thanks for picking us up. How long have you been with Lyft?”
“Ah…say about 1 month,” he said in a heavy accent I could not place, but I knew it meant he did not grow up in the States, and it was thick enough that I could imagine he had not said ‘hello’ because English was a challenge.
“And how long have you been in Salt Lake City?”
“My family and I moved from Congo two years ago,” he replied.
“How’s it going? How have you found Salt Lake City?”
“It is good,” he replied, in a way that felt like he had a whole book’s worth of reflections standing behind those three words.
“My kids like it, and we want a good education for them,” he continued.
“How old are your kids?”
“8, 7, 4, 2, and 9 months,” he smiled.
“Wow…” I smiled back, taking in just how significant a move this must be for them. I asked him what they’re into these days, and he had a hard time finding the word for the sport they’ve been playing at their local playground, but it was obvious from his tone of voice that his kids made his heart smile a great deal.
As we made our way up a steep, stunning Utah mountainside, he began explaining that in the Congo he earned a Bachelor's degree in IT but that the degree does not translate the same in the States. He is now enrolled in an online course with BYU to get the kind of accreditation more readily recognized by employers in the US.
Ultimately, he’d like to find his way back into the IT world. But for now, Lyft is the best source of income available.
I found myself paying close attention to his reflections, even as it was not easy given the thicker-than-I’m-used-to accent. And the more I listened, the more I found myself both hopeful and anxious.
I could readily see he was smart, kind, and courageous - and he cared deeply for his family.
And, also, his road forward remained highly unclear. More, I found myself worried about how his accent might affect future employment opportunities.
Will people slow long enough to really hear him?
—
I smiled, waved, and said, “Blessings on your journey!” as he dropped us off at our house.
Blessings, I mused to myself. Because it was right then that I realized that at least some of my keen interest in this driver had to do with my keen interest in my own life stage right now.
I left paid professional ministry one year ago at this time. It had been my vocational ‘home’ for two decades, and it was the land in which I had not only learned the ‘church-ese’ language, but I became immersed and fluent in it.
In that land, folks would say things like…
Sounds like newfangled Pelagianism - and I knew you were telling me that someone, somewhere was not taking sin seriously (and that you probably had a significantly active Inner Critic).
We attend City Church - and I knew immediately that no matter what city you were in, you were almost definitely part of a PCA church. And I knew exactly what PCA meant, too.
I grew up on DC Talk and Audio Adrenaline, but it’s been awhile… - and as your voice trailed off, I knew immediately that you probably knew numerous Bible verses by heart and attended a Young Life camp during your teenage years, and you also have real reflections about why church is not really a big thing for you anymore…though its likely that those are not frequently shared.
It’s been an exciting, terrifying, and often strange thing to step from this homeland-and-language and into other lands, particularly lands littered with entrepreneurial and corporate folks who sometimes do and sometimes don’t have a faith background. Either way, they definitely have their own language.
I remember how I was talking with mid-level corporate manager last summer, and he was going on about KPIs.
“So…” I interrupted cautiously as I was aware that I was risking a rather embarrassing question. But then again, I had no idea what he was saying.
“What are KPIs?'“
“Oh!” he said, almost like he had not actually said the three words aloud in a decade since, in his land, everyone just uses the acronym. “Key Performance Indicators.”
“Ah…” I nodded along, and thought quickly to Galatians 5:22-23 and the Key Progress Indicators I’d always dealt with in my land: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
When I later inquired of ChatGPT about “examples of KPIs,” I quickly learned of a whole host of other metrics about which my new land was attuned.
Or, on another occasion, a veteran professional speaker took me out for coffee to share about the business side of the profession. He promptly drew a triangle on a napkin and asked, “What do you see?”
“Honestly?” I replied, wondering if he really wanted to know. He nodded.
“The Trinity. Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. The Essence of Life. What do you see?”1
“Um, ok….” he said. “That’s actually kind of funny.” He meant it, but then quickly-and-flatly said, “No. This is the speaker pyramid where you can see very clearly how the pecking order works in terms of annual income generated.”
Still other times my ‘church-ese’ has come through in small ways that aren’t bad, but it can leave folks with the ‘huh, that’s different,’ feeling.
Like when I end corporate-setting conversations with, “Blessings to you!"
Or when I litter my networking sentences with King-James-Bible-influenced words like “alas, “truly,” and “behold.”
Or again, as happened just last week when I was giving a business-setting keynote and - during an unplanned riff - I began using words like “redemption,” “joy,” and “grace” as if, you know, we’re all church-ing it up in here.
Again, not necessarily bad. I get it. Maybe even good in some ways.
But still, I know my accent can be pretty thick for people in this new land of mine. The “Church-ese” runs deep, and I’m confident that sometimes folks plain get lost because I’m not speaking their language clearly enough.
Which means that if you were to ask me today, “How are things going with your new calling?” my response would be this:
“Headed up a steep incline. Learning the language. Working my translations.”
And also, “I think the view could be stunning.”
--
Just a few minutes before the Lyft driver dropped us off, he did one more thing that seemed just a little different. He began searching his phone rather intently at a red light.
“Here,” he said moments before the light turned green. “Look at these photos. This is malachite. I had a side business that sold this in Congo, and I’ve begun talking with my friends back home about having some sent so I could sell it here.”
He communicated like he was sharing a closely held secret. As if the first forty minutes of our drive had been the surface-level stuff, and now – in the final five minutes – he wanted to see the truly unique thing from his native land that he believed might bless both this land and his family. And in the way he offered his phone into my hand, it felt like receiving a part of his heart.
And boy did that heart glow.
His photos showed pieces of malachite chiseled and shaped into wondrous, inspiring pieces of art and jewelry. The bold spectrum of greens was enchanting.
I later did a brief Google search on malachite. Turns out the value range is quite wide. Some of it is rather modestly priced and some of it – the clearest, rarest, and most distinct versions – have significant, cost-you-a-small-fortune kind of value. The experts say they know instantly when they see the real deal.
And I think I get that.
I myself had just spent forty-five minutes experiencing the Real Deal.
Love’s accent, after all, is instantly recognizable.
--
When was the last time you experienced the Real Deal?
And what if today your KPI were simply this: Did I practice the Universal Language? 2
I confess… amid my steep climb full of regular language and translation work, it has become the singular question to which I return most often.
For those who know “Church-ese,” I purposely chose “Ghost” over “Spirit” knowing this person had a Catholic background. Bonus points for highly contextualized use of the language, right :)
Important note: Love is something both given and received. Some of us need even more practice on the receiving side than the giving side.
Just a great post. Love the Lyft driver's story, which doesn't even happen if you don't ask questions. I did know what KPI's were.
Hi Bobby,
I always love your stories. Looks like life is treating you well. We miss you at Church but glad you are following your heart. 🥰