The dentist used to be fun. Our dentist in Austin was this somewhat cooky old man who most definitely has a crush on my mother. The hygenist was an old family friend of ours, so she would occupy the awkward silence of teeth scrapping with her pleasant chatter. They would always rave about how healthy my teeth were & the fact that I had no cavities. It was fun. And then we moved to Louisville. Yes, I'll admit that it had been a year or two since I went to the dentist. I sat in a dentist's office for four hours last April while Kevin has his broken teeth fixed...does that count? Apparently not because I heard those fatal words uttered by my new dentist this morning that I've gone 24 years without hearing:
"You have a cavity."
What? Certainly not me! Well, it's true. I have to admit that the Lord has shaken my pride. I'm thankful for that at least. It might sound silly, but my confidence can never be in my unblemished dental track record or anything else other than Christ. Just like my teeth, my heart is quite imperfect, and that's why I am so greatly in need of Jesus as my savior. Maybe it's a stretch but why can't we learn things about God's character in the dentist chair? So back I go in a week or so to undergo the knife. Yikes!