Soul Cavities
It's not often that a trip to the dentist is epic, but this one was.
Not because I was put under the knife, or paid thousands of dollars, but because the trip itself turned out to be emblematic of my life right now. It was the last straw, so to speak; the final memo from God to Glenn, letting me know that there was a real and important message being conveyed that shouldn't be ignored.
But the memos began much earlier than the dentist appointment.
A little less than a month ago, the discipleship school at which I work participated in a healing ministry called "plumb line." Plumb line is, in essence, an inner healing ministry. We do the work of introspection, identifying "bricks" that make up the "walls of our heart," representing lies we have believed since childhood that have contributed to the brokenness in our personalities.
I've gone through it several times since I first attended the school, so I can't say I expected my socks to be blown off by new revelation and healing. And perhaps it wasn't as dramatic as what some of the other students experienced (if it's even fair to compare such things), but the week leading up to the ministry time yielded some surprising results for me. Something in particular happened in that time period, leading to a rather hard conversation with my mentors, and suddenly I felt such an overload of rejection, self-pity, anger, despair - you name it - that I wondered if I had grown at all since beginning my journey with Christ. Honestly, the thoughts going through my head were embarrassingly extreme: "Forget ministry - I'm not cut out for it"; "It's a good thing I'm leaving Visalia; people will be better off without me"; "It's too hard to follow God! I'm trying and trying, and this is what happens..." Good grief, am I even saved?? I wondered despondently.
This unearthing of darkness inside of me was helpful for the ministry time, though. I saw the lies I was believing really clearly - they were right in my face. I decided to "go after them," and the prayer time in front of the class ended up being really helpful for me. I felt lighter and more loved afterwards. Success! I'm all healed up and ready to go to the next season, God.
The only problem was that God was just beginning to show me "problem areas" in my life. If the lies dealt with at Plumb Line were a few bricks of the wall around my true heart, then I would soon find out that there was something akin to the Great Wall of China still standing.
A few days later, June, my friend and mentor who had led me through Plumb Line, came up to me and said, "Hey, do you want to really go after some of those rejection bricks?" I kind of scratched my head and thought, Hmm - didn't we just do that? But of course out loud I said, "Yeah, sure." That day I went to her house and we had another productive prayer time, full of repentance, renouncing, resolving, and all kinds of other things that start with "re." Again, I felt better afterwards.
Then came the counseling session. A good friend and father-figure in my life had recommended clinical counseling a couple of months ago, I suppose in light of my apparent "issues" stemming from my father's suicide (maybe you can see the theme emerging here...). He even offered to pay, and I happily agreed to some more help in my life. Counseling is recommended anyway for people dealing with the physical, psychological, and emotional effects of Chronic Lyme Disease, so I figured this might be long overdue anyhow.
My last appointment before moving to the Central Coast was scheduled for this last week, and I was looking forward to some good encouraging words I could carry in my heart to the next phase of my life journey. This ended up being the case - if, that is, you define "encouraging" as words that expose your worst motives, break down any remaining pride you might have intact, and make you feel rather terrible about yourself in the process. If that's your kind of encouragement, then I walked out of there chock-full of it!
Yes, I do think the counselor meant well, and YES, I think God has used these counseling sessions tremendously these past two months. She mentioned a lot of things that were true about me - selfishness, poor leadership, a tendency to internally "collapse" and retreat under pressure. The intensity of her diagnosis and the timing of it all was just a little bit overwhelming.
Well, what could possibly happen next? Car repairs. And true to the events of the past month, though I took my car in to fix a cooling fan, it turned out that at least 3 different things needed attention, totaling to more than $900. Apparently my car needed more work than expected, too...
At last, we come to the climactic dentist appointment. It was, perhaps like the counseling sessions, long overdue. I hadn't been to the dentist in 6 years.
Before I tell you what happened, though, let me just mention that I brush my teeth twice a day. Every day. And I go through seasons of faithfully flossing - I do! I want to also add that I have never gotten a cavity in my entire life, something in which I take considerable pride. In fact, during the estimated 189 days a year that I do floss, it is not uncommon for the guys in my house to stop and marvel at such a phenomenon: "Wow, you floss?! I remember when my dentist told me to do that years ago - I didn't know anyone actually did!" Needless to say, I have felt confident in my oral hygiene, considering my context.
If you have paid any attention to the flow of this blog, or understand the concept of foreshadowing, you can pretty much guess how the appointment ended up going: TERRIBLE. I mean, from start to finish. The nurse comes in and starts poking at my teeth. Blood starts to flow from my gums, and she starts lecturing me on flossing and proper tooth care. Ok, so I haven't flossed in a month - but before that I did, I promise! She asks how long it's been since I've had a "cleaning," and I kind of mumble in shame, "Uh, 6 years...or so." Alright, Miss Nurse, I've had a lot on my mind the past 6 years, and a lot of other medical bills to pay. But, of course, all of that just amounts to excuses - something that is not going to help me in this season of my life.
The doctor came in and broke the really heavy news. He first came in the door with an enthusiasm and cliche politeness that provided a good picture of what Mr. Rogers would have been like if he was hopped up on energy drinks. That energy, however, soon turned into fierce sobriety as he witnessed the disaster known as "Glenn's mouth." I could hardly believe it when he exclaimed (I'm not exaggerating), "Wow! Tina [the nurse] wasn't kidding. This is bad." I was mortified. He went on to tell me that I had a CAVITY in my lower-right region, gingivitis in my upper gums, and something that starts with a "t" in my lower gums. Whatever that word was, it was bad.
He went on to have a discussion with Tina in front of me that went something like this: "Well, do you think he needs the DEEP cleaning?" (The phrase "deep cleaning" was said in ominous tones) "I don't know. It's pretty bad. But he doesn't have irreversible damage, so it's hard to say..." And so forth, as they discussed the fate of my teeth in my hearing.
It was finally decided that they would give me an "irrigation-cleaning," which was the step under the frightful "deep cleaning," and for that I was very grateful. I would also have to take care of the cavity when I moved to the Coast and had time to take more x-rays.
Now you can see the epic nature of this appointment. The doctor may have been prescribing action for my teeth, but as far as I was concerned, in light of the past month, he was proclaiming sentence on my soul: Wow, your soul is really messed up. Tina, come here and look at how broken this kid is! He's gonna need some serious healing. Call the counselors, call the inner healing ministries - in fact, call Jesus Himself- we're gonna need a miracle for this one.
I know, I know - that might be a bit exaggerated, but that's pretty much the way I felt after yesterday morning at the dentist's office.
Yet, I'm looking up today. I've had some hard words this past month - that's reality. But the "sentence" I've received is not where I plan on staying.
"I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!" (Psalm 27:13-14)
"And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)
And just for good measure: "Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them has lost its young..." (Song of Songs 4:2)
I'm moving to Grover Beach in a week at the direction of the Lord. I'm counting on healing - in my body, and in my heart. Perhaps it is long overdue. But God's timing is perfect, and if He insists on a deep cleaning in my soul (or at least an irrigation), as scary as that sounds, I am willing to do what it takes to walk more closely with Him.
Not because I was put under the knife, or paid thousands of dollars, but because the trip itself turned out to be emblematic of my life right now. It was the last straw, so to speak; the final memo from God to Glenn, letting me know that there was a real and important message being conveyed that shouldn't be ignored.
But the memos began much earlier than the dentist appointment.
A little less than a month ago, the discipleship school at which I work participated in a healing ministry called "plumb line." Plumb line is, in essence, an inner healing ministry. We do the work of introspection, identifying "bricks" that make up the "walls of our heart," representing lies we have believed since childhood that have contributed to the brokenness in our personalities.
I've gone through it several times since I first attended the school, so I can't say I expected my socks to be blown off by new revelation and healing. And perhaps it wasn't as dramatic as what some of the other students experienced (if it's even fair to compare such things), but the week leading up to the ministry time yielded some surprising results for me. Something in particular happened in that time period, leading to a rather hard conversation with my mentors, and suddenly I felt such an overload of rejection, self-pity, anger, despair - you name it - that I wondered if I had grown at all since beginning my journey with Christ. Honestly, the thoughts going through my head were embarrassingly extreme: "Forget ministry - I'm not cut out for it"; "It's a good thing I'm leaving Visalia; people will be better off without me"; "It's too hard to follow God! I'm trying and trying, and this is what happens..." Good grief, am I even saved?? I wondered despondently.
This unearthing of darkness inside of me was helpful for the ministry time, though. I saw the lies I was believing really clearly - they were right in my face. I decided to "go after them," and the prayer time in front of the class ended up being really helpful for me. I felt lighter and more loved afterwards. Success! I'm all healed up and ready to go to the next season, God.
The only problem was that God was just beginning to show me "problem areas" in my life. If the lies dealt with at Plumb Line were a few bricks of the wall around my true heart, then I would soon find out that there was something akin to the Great Wall of China still standing.
A few days later, June, my friend and mentor who had led me through Plumb Line, came up to me and said, "Hey, do you want to really go after some of those rejection bricks?" I kind of scratched my head and thought, Hmm - didn't we just do that? But of course out loud I said, "Yeah, sure." That day I went to her house and we had another productive prayer time, full of repentance, renouncing, resolving, and all kinds of other things that start with "re." Again, I felt better afterwards.
Then came the counseling session. A good friend and father-figure in my life had recommended clinical counseling a couple of months ago, I suppose in light of my apparent "issues" stemming from my father's suicide (maybe you can see the theme emerging here...). He even offered to pay, and I happily agreed to some more help in my life. Counseling is recommended anyway for people dealing with the physical, psychological, and emotional effects of Chronic Lyme Disease, so I figured this might be long overdue anyhow.
My last appointment before moving to the Central Coast was scheduled for this last week, and I was looking forward to some good encouraging words I could carry in my heart to the next phase of my life journey. This ended up being the case - if, that is, you define "encouraging" as words that expose your worst motives, break down any remaining pride you might have intact, and make you feel rather terrible about yourself in the process. If that's your kind of encouragement, then I walked out of there chock-full of it!
Yes, I do think the counselor meant well, and YES, I think God has used these counseling sessions tremendously these past two months. She mentioned a lot of things that were true about me - selfishness, poor leadership, a tendency to internally "collapse" and retreat under pressure. The intensity of her diagnosis and the timing of it all was just a little bit overwhelming.
Well, what could possibly happen next? Car repairs. And true to the events of the past month, though I took my car in to fix a cooling fan, it turned out that at least 3 different things needed attention, totaling to more than $900. Apparently my car needed more work than expected, too...
At last, we come to the climactic dentist appointment. It was, perhaps like the counseling sessions, long overdue. I hadn't been to the dentist in 6 years.
Before I tell you what happened, though, let me just mention that I brush my teeth twice a day. Every day. And I go through seasons of faithfully flossing - I do! I want to also add that I have never gotten a cavity in my entire life, something in which I take considerable pride. In fact, during the estimated 189 days a year that I do floss, it is not uncommon for the guys in my house to stop and marvel at such a phenomenon: "Wow, you floss?! I remember when my dentist told me to do that years ago - I didn't know anyone actually did!" Needless to say, I have felt confident in my oral hygiene, considering my context.
If you have paid any attention to the flow of this blog, or understand the concept of foreshadowing, you can pretty much guess how the appointment ended up going: TERRIBLE. I mean, from start to finish. The nurse comes in and starts poking at my teeth. Blood starts to flow from my gums, and she starts lecturing me on flossing and proper tooth care. Ok, so I haven't flossed in a month - but before that I did, I promise! She asks how long it's been since I've had a "cleaning," and I kind of mumble in shame, "Uh, 6 years...or so." Alright, Miss Nurse, I've had a lot on my mind the past 6 years, and a lot of other medical bills to pay. But, of course, all of that just amounts to excuses - something that is not going to help me in this season of my life.
The doctor came in and broke the really heavy news. He first came in the door with an enthusiasm and cliche politeness that provided a good picture of what Mr. Rogers would have been like if he was hopped up on energy drinks. That energy, however, soon turned into fierce sobriety as he witnessed the disaster known as "Glenn's mouth." I could hardly believe it when he exclaimed (I'm not exaggerating), "Wow! Tina [the nurse] wasn't kidding. This is bad." I was mortified. He went on to tell me that I had a CAVITY in my lower-right region, gingivitis in my upper gums, and something that starts with a "t" in my lower gums. Whatever that word was, it was bad.
He went on to have a discussion with Tina in front of me that went something like this: "Well, do you think he needs the DEEP cleaning?" (The phrase "deep cleaning" was said in ominous tones) "I don't know. It's pretty bad. But he doesn't have irreversible damage, so it's hard to say..." And so forth, as they discussed the fate of my teeth in my hearing.
It was finally decided that they would give me an "irrigation-cleaning," which was the step under the frightful "deep cleaning," and for that I was very grateful. I would also have to take care of the cavity when I moved to the Coast and had time to take more x-rays.
Now you can see the epic nature of this appointment. The doctor may have been prescribing action for my teeth, but as far as I was concerned, in light of the past month, he was proclaiming sentence on my soul: Wow, your soul is really messed up. Tina, come here and look at how broken this kid is! He's gonna need some serious healing. Call the counselors, call the inner healing ministries - in fact, call Jesus Himself- we're gonna need a miracle for this one.
I know, I know - that might be a bit exaggerated, but that's pretty much the way I felt after yesterday morning at the dentist's office.
Yet, I'm looking up today. I've had some hard words this past month - that's reality. But the "sentence" I've received is not where I plan on staying.
"I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!" (Psalm 27:13-14)
"And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)
And just for good measure: "Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them has lost its young..." (Song of Songs 4:2)
I'm moving to Grover Beach in a week at the direction of the Lord. I'm counting on healing - in my body, and in my heart. Perhaps it is long overdue. But God's timing is perfect, and if He insists on a deep cleaning in my soul (or at least an irrigation), as scary as that sounds, I am willing to do what it takes to walk more closely with Him.
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