“Dentist”—that word alone strikes fear in the hearts of many.
They walk in the room with such authority, human features hidden behind a surgical mask that might soon be covered by flecks of your own spit and tooth gunk. You can only guess what faces they’re making as they pull on those purple latex squeaky gloves, Willy Wonka style, with a quick SNAP!
And the comment that comes next is…
“This is going to pinch.”
Pinch? What universe are you in, masked man? It hurts. A LOT!
Then they’re gone. The “squeak, squeak, squeak” of their rubber-soled shoes echoing down the hallway—the only time Reeboks sound ominous.
And what happens next is so odd. The pain turns to numbness.
Not all at once, but slowly. You don’t notice it at first, but after a few minutes, you can’t feel your lips. Then it creeps through your face: the eye, the throat, the tongue or the nose (depending on where your cavity is). Finally, your teeth disappear. And the the dentist returns. Despite your misgivings as to his intentions, you surrender to his will.
Drilling. Pressure. Scraping.
You’re vulnerable.
Your black, weakened tooth is exposed.
With your source of affliction now open, he changes his approach. He begins to fill it. Sometimes this is uncomfortable as well, but it’s important. If he doesn’t do what he came to, it would leave you to more suffering than before. Your nerves would be bare, giving leeway to even the slightest space invader becoming a larger-than-life enemy. So you have to allow him to finish the good work he started. He has to fill the brokenness so that the malignancy that was there can’t return.
When finished, the healer lowers his mask and reveals a kindly smile.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
In retrospect, you conclude that perhaps you’ve villainized the very person that could alleviate your suffering. The person that if you would have heeded his/her warning, could have kept you from your malady.
This is me.
I have had a good portion of hurts. Many times, I’ve been in a healthy and connected spiritual place, surrounded with wise amazing people, that’s kept the foulness of a situation from taking hold of me. I heard God’s guidance and pursued His healing in the midst of the unfolding pain.
But there have been other times. In those, the Job-like assault of calamity has hit so hard at a time when I was unprepared, that I fail to hide myself under the wing of the Almighty. Instead. I angrily stand in the rain and shout, “What else you got?!”
I villainize God.
He hurt me.
I numb up.
The numbness is meant to shield me from what I’m feeling, but it starts affecting other areas of my life too. My numbness has stolen joy from my life. And wounds fester whether you are feeling them or not. People and situations that were not even part of the original issue, can get on my raw nerves. I lash out in pain.
Eventually, knowing I cannot heal myself, I begin to allow God to chip away at my brokeness. Attend to my wounds. Reveal the source of my pain. Finally fill me with truth, understanding, forgiveness, and love. Saturating every crack and crevice with Himself to be a stalwart against any future enemy invasion.
Pain, loss, and brokenness happen. There is no inoculation against it.
Staying numb, while not dealing with the source of the pain, and feeling God is the persecutor are go-to reactions as humans. We make an enemy out of the very Being that can cut away the nastiness festering inside ourselves.
But when I run to Him and not away, He heals.
He’s the only One that can do it through and through.
Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.
Jeremiah 17:14
