Foreign languages. Some people get it; some don’t. My husband needs only spend a day in another culture to pick up the conversational basics (a convenient quality in a travel companion!). Me, not so much. I’ve been “learning” Spanish since high school. Two years of study, plus several classes in college, even a year’s worth during my work in DC.
I always do well enough, but simply don’t progress very far. Being immersed in the language has great benefits. Much has come back to me this week, allowing me to carry on rudimentary conversations with the Honduran nationals. But I’m not fluent and doubt I ever will be.
Several of my friends are native speakers from other countries and learned English as a second language. Across the board, they have said they knew the moment they were fluent in their learned language. It was when they dreamed in English. Their subconscious was now speaking from a different perspective and their thinking, the way their brain processes, will never be the same.
Last night, I awoke in a most comfortable, cozy position. I found myself with my arms wrapped so tightly around my core, it was as if I was hugging someone closer than myself. As I laid in the darkness, my dream flowed to my conscious mind. I had been holding orphans in my embrace.
My perspective has changed. All that is important to me has expanded exponentially to include these children. Now I know my mind is changed forever. My heart is speaking fluently a new language.
Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed.