At my age, I guess I'm slightly embarrassed to admit it.  I get a bit tongue-tied trying to talk about it.  But my just-two-weeks-old grandson Caleb has already taught me something I probably should have learned a long time ago.                         

I always thought of "being tongue-tied" only as a metaphor.  People who were "tongue-tied" were having a hard time expressing what they wanted to say.  It was something I was grateful to experience only rarely.  (Of course, I have made PLENTY of other speaking mistakes along the way, mostly having to do with too much, not too little!  But that is another story....)

Now, Caleb--by way of his representatives, Emily & Mike--has introduced me to a whole new world.  Caleb's world is populated with words like ankyloglossia, lingual frenulum and frenotomy. 

I have just learned that an infant has trouble nursing when the little bit of tissue that connects the central underside of our tongues to our mouths (the lingual frenulum) is too short.  Fortunately, this condition of being tongue-tied (ankyloglossia) can often be corrected very easily and quickly by snipping the problem tissue (a frenotomy).  (All the Farmer and Slade clans rejoiced when we got the news from Emily today that the medical folks had diagnosed Caleb's problem and corrected it on the spot--immediately transforming Caleb into a great eater!)

Who knew?  Perhaps you did.  Certainly lots of people do.  I, however, did not, despite spending nearly six decades in the constant company of people--and a little over half of that time as a parent.

This has been yet another reminder (much gentler for me, praying for Caleb and his parents from several hundred miles away, than for the principals) about how limited our experience and our understanding are.  We learn about the things we come into contact with.  We can miss something even though people all around us are touched by it (my googling of ankyloglossia suggests as many as one in twenty infants deal with it to some degree).  We learn about what touches us (or those close to us), but can easily fail to learn about things that touch only those less intimately connected to us. 

Once again, I find myself deeply grateful for all those who make it their life's work to learn about things I do not understand, or to master skills I do not possess... and who put their knowledge and skills at the service of the rest of us.  I'm grateful for a lactation consultant who could tell Emily that her struggling son had a very easily-solved problem, and for the otolaryngologist who solved it.  I find myself grateful to the Lord who both makes learning possible and calls us to use it to bless others.  In the face of the many things in this life I have not learned, I share the feeling of the Breton fisherman, whose prayer confesses, "O God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small."  When that feeling comes, I give thanks to God that "my boat" is not alone on that great sea.  The Maker of that sea is present, and sends along many other boats, as well!

As I write, I am preparing for two trips.  The first and shorter one is our first visit to see Caleb and the wonderful pair who are now his parents.  The second and longer one is a return to Vietnam and the inspiring people who are serving Christ in that land.  I won't be doing any teaching on ankyloglossia, frenulae or frenotomies!  But I do pray that the Lord will take something of the experiences and learning I have managed to do on other subjects and allow them to be useful for the work the Spirit is doing in and through the churches of Vietnam.

I'm grateful your boat with me on the great sea.  Thanks for paddling along with me.  May the Lord also enable you to put the unique learning you have done at the service of those around you!

Blessings,
Stan