This is what I feel for Spanish. A love that I can't explain. I just finished reading my story that I have to do an assignment on for next week, and I wish I could explain how it gives me happiness to know that I just read and understood a story in a different language, that I worked through the parts that I don't know, and that God has given me the privilege of loving every minute of what some people really dread.
Actually, maybe that's just what I feel for language. Tonight I'm going to go sit in on my school's Chinese class, and I'm pretty pumped for that. I know like three phrases in Chinese, and I hope to maybe learn it soonish.
Words are powerful, and God is allowing me to go to school to learn how they are used across cultures and how their intricacies have been designed, not so much intentionally by us, but to some extent innately (or by God's leading). I don't understand how it all works even, and I am blown away by it. May I glorify Him in my study.