Thoughts from a Child's Mind

They told me it was just migraines...

It's been almost two months since my symptoms started happening, and I don't know exactly what to make of it.

Eye pain, vomiting, headaches, neck stiffness, weakness... paralysis on one side of my body... trouble breathing...

And perfect one paper.

MRIs, CTs, EEGs, and 32 blood tests ruling out nameless, unspeakable fears - meningitis? ALS? multiple sclerosis? stroke? West Nile? ...Cancer? All officially ruled out (with much praise!) and no answers to take their place.

"Ma'am have you been feeling stressed?" "Is that really as hard as you can squeeze?" "....you DROVE here?" *shuffled paperwork and hushed voices. A quick glance over to make sure I'm not listening too closely. Worried looks from doctors that I've known and worked with in my own ICU. Forced levity from my co-workers who've come to visit me.*

What's wrong with me? My God only knows.



In all this, I cannot be grateful enough for my church.

It's a small church, with lots of college age kids, a lot of grown ups that weren't college kids so long ago, and a handful of gruff middle age and older adults that don't know how to tell you they love you except to demand that you take it easy - it's 'cause they care.

In the last two weeks, my pastor has providentially started a sermon series called "Psalms of Lament: Finding God in the Dark Places".

How good is of God to not have left me devoid of hope, but given me comfort even among my own congregation!

The tenant of this theme regards the honest worship of believers who cry out to God and praise him, while still is despair.

For crying out to God to save you in the dark places depicts an accurate perception of God, namely - that he is one who saves.

Similarly, as we would not chasten a child who hesitantly asks, "Do you still love me?" when he has been punished by his parents, neither should we chasten believers who ask the same thing of God.

Honest praise and honest worship begin when we ask God the hard questions with full faith in knowing He is big enough to answer them.

Whether directly or indirectly, our God WILL give us resolution, even if it merely comes as peace in tribulation.

As fellow believers, it is our duty to bear one another up and remind one another about the true attributes of God, just as our own parents would remind us as children, "Of course we love you, it's why we do this".




I may not know much about God, but I know two things:

1). My God is God. He is sovereign and in control over all things. ALL things. Sickness, pain, hurting, fear, my car being stolen, my new car's engine blowing up, lack of autonomy, lack of a working income, inability to drive, inability to walk without help, feeling weak... how the list of my troubles seems so great until I put them in perspective of a greater God.

2). My God is Good. He who IS love, is also the God who saves, protects, succours, shepherds, provides, and .... heals. And he is the God who also, in his perfect wisdom, doesn't heal.

It is a strong and comforting revelation that men in the Bible far more righteous than I, suffered under the hand of my same great God, and declared him righteous though the end seemed bleak. [Glance briefly through Hebrews 11 and Job 1-2].

LORD may I but be like Job, like Daniel, like Samuel, like David, like Nehemiah, like Esther and Ruth, and like other modern and ancient saints too many to count, who have suffered greater sorrows, been tempted and tried in more dire circumstances, been slain, destitute, and acted as wanderers in ways far greater than I can imagine, and endured far greater trials than I can comprehend, and YET, through faith they were declared righteous before my same great God.

They endured. May I please be given the grace to do the same.




"But without faith it is impossible to please God: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." - Hebrews 11:6 

So, my beloved 1991 Toyota Camry was stolen outside my apartment complex this last week. 

Stolen. gone. not present. and yes, locked. I was actually surprised during the aftermath to realize how unnerving and violating it is to have someone take something from you that you thought was safe. 

After watching the surveillance video 7 or 8 times (thanks for nothing security camera) and watching with such chilling ease how the thief strolled over to my car and got in and drove away in under 15 seconds - believe me, I counted - it sort of breaks all trust in one's sense of security in this world. 

I even had nightmares the next two nights of the people coming back for more or me finding my car only to have it stolen again. Silly and childish? I'm sure. Have I even mentioned that growing up is hard? 

The police told me that if the car wasn't found in the first 48 hours, there was almost no chance that it would be found again. Well, it has been 123 hours and 58 minutes and still no sign of any hope of its return on the horizon. 

My first thought when I realized my bereft state was "Oh God, please no. I need my car, how will I get to work tomorrow?" However, as time went on, the LORD has given me perspective. I am grieved, there is no doubting. I loved my car, and there were items in it that I will never get back, or be able to replace the memories I've had in it. 

But 

God, who is rich in mercy has given me hope. 

Two things that I realized how blessed I was this week in having car stolen were:

Firstly, however disappointing it was to spend the same amount of money as a plane ticket home to Texas as to rent transportation for the next week a half, and have to be burdened with the worry about trying to find a new car, I am grateful that I the LORD has given me a stable enough job to have the resources to do so - or at least not end up hopelessly in debt. 

Secondly, it reminded me how transient this life is and how quickly the LORD can give and take away.  

There have been a few verses that I've been meditating on that have really helped to bring me joy and comfort this week. Namely:

"I will bless the LORD at all times, his praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make her boast in the LORD, let the humble hear and be glad! O magnify the LORD with me, let us exalt his name together!" - Psalm 34:1-3 

As unforeseen and grievous as having my car stolen seems, I want to continue to remind myself of God's sovereignty and bless the LORD in the good times and the bad.

In the undergraduate, and now master's of nursing program that I am in, the course material requires the students every few semesters to present a small snippet of who we are; our lifestyles, our passions, and our driving factors that affect our decisions and everyday lives. The title of the assignment is "Who Am I?" and requires a visual or artistic rendering of the answer.

Since the admission to my undergraduate school, my story, although it's telling has taken many forms over the years, remains a simple one:

The Felder Girls 2001

I am the second oldest of a family with five daughters; no boys. I was raised in a safe, loving, God-centered, and Christ-filled home. Though never rich, the LORD never allowed us to know lack or hunger, and through a multitude of blessings and miracles, his hand was ever evident in the lives of my family. When I was sixteen, my family went to Bangkok, Thailand to teach english at a student center for two months.

 It was there that I met her.

Her name was Gift. She was a bright, sunny fourteen year-old girl who was always eager to learn, and listened intently to all that would teach her. Intrigued by her unusual name, I called Gift over after class one day and, through the use of an interpreter, asked her about the origin of her name.


Gift explained that when she was eleven, in a time of financial crisis, her family sold her to be a prostitute, and for three years she knew the hands of many men. One day an American missionary couple came to her and told her about Jesus, the one that could free her from more than her owners, but also of her sin. They asked her if she wanted to leave her situation and come with them, and Gift readily agreed. The missionaries not only bought Gift from her owners, but also were paying for her to learn english in order to obtain a trade where she would never have to sell herself again.  Gift struggled to explain in her own broken english that she felt as though God had given her so much "happy" coming to know His grace and the missionaries she lived with, she felt as though her second chance at life was a Gift.

While reading Hebrews chapter two this morning, I came across the word "succour" in verse 18 in my King James Bible. While I have been a fervent advocate of my favorite translation and have been reading the KJV since I was a child, I realized that I had never fully understood the meaning of this term, and therefore set out to seek guidance from my Oxford American Dictionary.

It means: "Succour (v.) - To give assistance or aid to."

Upon further investigation, I found that the English word was of Latin origin (although the use of Strong's concordance relates it further back to the Greek word  βοηθέω) and associates it with the word Succursus or Succerrere, which literally means "to run to the aid of."

Applying the meaning from the word its origin, the verse I was reading (Heb. 2:18) says "For in that he [Jesus] hath suffered being tempted, he is able to run to the aid of [succour] them that are tempted."

Though this seems like such a little comment, I find it such powerful imagery to think that our LORD God  incarnate, Savior of the world, "Runs to our aid" when we are tempted. Praise our dread and sovereign God! By whom he will allow nothing to tempt us more than we can bear, and sent to us one who can free us from the chains that hold us captive.

While assisting in the pre-k Sunday school class yesterday, we talked about how God punishes us because he loves us. The teacher asked the children if they had ever been put in time-out for doing something wrong. One little boy raised his hand and said, "Yes! But only once." Impressed, the teacher answered, "Well, you must have really learned your lesson," to which the little boy replied, "No, I just learned my Bible."

What theology God allows children to teach us!

http://vimeo.com/9796056

I have sat down so frequently to write a post on this blog; whether a thought, an idea, a lesson learned, a matter of justice that deserves to be rectified, or to ask one of the innumerable questions that run through my head on any given day. Yet I always stop short - abandon the post before it ever reaches the end of the first paragraph - for I always fear speaking with any authority of what another before me has always said better, or questioning something that I'm sure I could find the answer for if I tried hard enough, or perhaps am simply afraid of being considered foolish for asking to be heard if I have nothing worth saying. At the heart of it, I am shy of an audience whom I will never see, nor meet, nor perhaps will ever read any of my heart that beats quietly with each line. Proverbs says that:

Prov. 10:19 "In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refrains his lips is wise."


However, the LORD gave us lips to speak,  a mind to question, and a heart that desires to seek truth. For this reason were we meant to seek and to aid one another in our travels in this life. Why else be placed on this earth with billions of other people who have problems and hurts and fears and dreams? As I was encouraged to do so not so very long ago, I hope to use this blog to seek and pursue the LORD with my mind -as well as with my heart and soul- not only for my benefit, but also to any who wander down a similar path.

I've been thinking a lot lately of people and their desire to teach. While I know that some individuals are clearly given the ability to articulate and pass on truths better than others, there seems to be in everyone an innate desire to share information or lessons one has experienced, regardless of one's age, gender, race, or religious belief.

I can well recall conversations I've had with one of the three year-old boys I use to babysit where he looked me solemnly in the eye and made me promise him that I'd never eat dirt, "Or else, I'd get sick and fro up." I am also reminded of other situations where an 85 year-old grandmother, stricken with Alzheimer's and struggling to recall her own name, imperatively begged me to be careful about whom I chose to marry, and to make sure I chose someone who treated me well, lest I be forced to endure heartache that she could have prevented.

This passing on of information is so curious because what does the teacher (in a sense) gain? Absolute strangers are eager to give advice though they will probably never see you again, but to what end? Of course there's a pride element of feeling like one has superior knowledge, but there seems to be this basic satisfaction in feeling like our living, and having made mistakes and learned from them, benefitted someone else. As though it justifies to us further that we truly do have a reason worth living.

C.S. Lewis in his introduction of "Reflections on the Psalms," compares the sharing of his work to school children helping one another with their "sums" in arithmetic class. Though your fellows may not know much more than you, they have the benefit of having just fought that battle and being aware of the subtle obstacles that can bar one's path rather than a school teacher (infinitely wise as they are), who might have long forgotten.

I suppose that the conclusion I've come to with this thought is the desire to be more open, or at least willing to listen, to the ideas and lessons of others -if not only for my sake, but also their own. May I, in the future be one more teachable concerning the things of God, and in humility, eagerly desire to teach as the day has need.

LORD, teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom (Ps. 90:12). Amen.

Soundtrack music (and much more specifically, fantasy movies soundtrack music) seems to create their own environment of a truer, more robust world unlike anything I've ever experienced here in the mundane. The music seems to take themes and ideas that one can identify with, and purifies them; makes them realer, fuller, truer. It's a tangible ideal that touches on the soul's graving for something more - the inborn and inbred hope of greater ideals made real to us for 110 minutes (the average movie time according to slashfilm.com/by-the-numbers-the-length-of-feature-films.) Can you resist the call? Do you want to? 


I so often find myself desiring to fling out my arms, catch the wind, and fly away, free of problems I am only now beginning to face. Could this be what heaven is? Could the lilting strains of violin that caresses one's ears, really be touching more deeply to one's soul, by fulfilling, for a moment, the longing to live in a perfect world, a realer one, with purer thoughts and emotions, brighter colours, deeper desires, truer sentiments, and more clearly defined rights and wrongs?


I hope so. I long so. LORD, may your day fast approach so that we may truly know what it means to live. 

My tongue's become a flaming fire
Unleashing on all around me ire
And words as sharp as coldest hail
That seem to come from lowest Hell.


I need you, God, to tame my tongue
For you, My Father, are the one
Who only has the power of life
To cease this sword from causing strife.


It seems it's only bittersweet
That flows from me, it is not meet!
When I should oft your praises sing
It seems I turn to venomously sting.


Here now your servant humbly craves 
Your streams of life with power to save
My soul from this most heinous sin
That speaks of all my soil within.


Here now my soul I humbly bow
And call on you with fervent brow
Take this poor servant's biting tongue
Make me like I was when young.


Where I would ever sing your grace
And kindly speak to every face
Make my words like a healer's balm
Befitting of a Christian's alms.


These things I ask of you and more!
May I ever to you praise restore
May my vain words and bitter deeds
Instead give life to those in need.


Amen.


Lately it seems that my words have become more and more biting. While I naturally seem to be blunt and honest in my speech, this has of the last several months become a venomous serpent that lashes in criticism to people around me that I disapprove of. While nothing I say is untrue or intentionally meant to harm, I have begun to notice what an effect it's had on others and has seriously convicted me. As James says,

 " Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindles! The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defiles the whole body, and settes on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell. For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of mankind: But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.For by it we bless God, even the Father; and by it we curse men, which are made after the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. "

James 3: 5-10