Maybe dentists get a bad rap, but let’s be honest. Who
enjoys sitting in their chairs?
I had some dental surgery yesterday. It took an hour and a
half and has left me with six stitches, a swollen cheek and very sore. But I
was there voluntarily – having an implant is better than having no tooth – and the
dentist was good, hygienic, skilful. Most places in the world, you might have
to just ask your neighbour to pull the offending tooth. And gum it after that.
So this is a first world moan.
Or is it a moan at all? It’s just what happens in life. Some
things hurt. Yesterday, though, I was grateful of the truth of God’s promise,
that when you walk through the waters/fires/troubles he’ll be with you. I was
grateful that as I lay, head down, mouth wide, and the dentist hammering away,
I had chunks of John 1 going through my mind. What a blessed diversion! I have
some of that chapter memorised but it didn’t come out in a coherent narrative
but rather in snatches. But they were life-giving snatches, and I am grateful.
He never leaves us nor forsakes us. That is life to the
full. Even in the dentist’s chair.
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