Thoughts from a Child's Mind

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.