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Not A Tooth-ache

             This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of Him. (I John 5:14-15)

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who  have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

These passages are a challenge to me at the moment. Sunday morning, I fell while walking Grace, and chipped a tooth. The good news is that since we’re wearing masks, no one will know unless I tell them. I think I’d rather I’d broken my nose, though since I’ve never done that either, it’s hard to tell. My teeth, while far from perfect, were the one part of my appearance that I liked.

So, do I believe these verses, or not? What am I going to do about what I said yesterday about faith being a long-term thing? In a way, the going has just gotten tough – oh, not tough like people are facing as they lose their lives for their faith – but tough in the little way that is supposed to be training for “the real thing.”

I’m grieving – I find myself bargaining with God. “If I do this, will You miraculously fix my tooth.” I’m angry. “It’s just a tooth – it’s such a small thing. Why can’t You miraculously fix it – miraculously do anything in my life. Why am I the one who never gets to see a miracle?” I’m sad and could easily fixate on this one thing as the focus of my life and become depressed. There’s part of me that wants to respond that a chipped tooth means the end of any hope to be a writer because writers have to tour and talk to people. (I never said grief was rational.) And there are dentists, and it can be capped or repaired or something. That’s a way God can take care of the situation. The only stage of grief I’m not noticing is denial. I’m not pretending it didn’t happen, or that it doesn’t matter. I’m trying to accept it, telling myself that it’s just a tooth, and even if I were to have to live with a chipped tooth for the rest of my life (even 50 years!) that wouldn’t be the end of the world. But those are the human responses.

This is a good example of a minor challenge to the question of trusting God. Am I going to trust Him if He doesn’t miraculously make my tooth whole (and maybe, while He’s at it, straighten the rest that little bit they necessary to make them straight? Oh, and He can fix my ankles and thumbs, too.) Is He going to wake me up and I’ll discover it was all a dream? Is He going to step in and give me a sign? And if He doesn’t? Do I walk away? “OK, God, that’s Your last chance, now I’m going to find someone who will help me.” Or “OK, God, that’s Your last chance, I’m just going to grind myself down into the ground with my bitterness over Your failure or lack of compassion. Go away, I want nothing more to do with You.” What possible good would come of those? No other god will fix my tooth. A dentist probably will (for a price) but he/she is not going to walk through my life with me.

No matter which way I choose to go, faith is required. And no matter which way I choose, time will be required. God could miraculously and instantly fix my tooth, but that doesn’t mean He’s ignoring the situation or incapable if He doesn’t. Those are up to Him. What’s up to me is how I’m going to respond. And I’m trust Him for wholeness, whether miraculous, dentist-manufactured, or eventual and eternal (only.)

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