The Chipped Tooth

In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me. (Psalm 87:7 NIV)

            Forty-nine years ago, a silly mishap broke my front tooth. The ragged remains left me in tears and despair. In college away from home without my dentist, I felt lost and worried about my upcoming wedding with a broken tooth.

            I don’t remember the details, but someone got me in to see a dentist. A temporary fix kept me from hiding until I could get home to see my own dentist. He provided a perfectly colored crown that lasted for years and years.

            Since that time, I cringed at every cleaning when the crown was scraped and polished. I didn’t want it damaged.

            At my latest cleaning, the dentist noticed a rounded crack on my front crown. She grabbed her I-phone while her assistant pulled back my gums like she was examining a horse’s mouth. The pictures clearly showed a problem.

            I hated the thought of enduring the process of getting a new crown. However, that wasn’t even an option. My dentist was leaving the following day for a trip to the mountains to view the solar eclipse. She planned to return on Wednesday after I left on Tuesday for a trip to Indiana.

            The assistant came in with a device to make a mold of my tooth. After sitting with the gooey stuff in my mouth for three minutes, I couldn’t open my mouth. My teeth stuck like cement. She had to yank on it to pry it loose. I thought I would see my teeth like a set of dentures when it came from my mouth. Fortunately, my teeth stayed intact. At least the mold would help hurry the process when I had to get a new one.

            “Make sure you’re careful when you eat,” my dentist and her assistant both said.

            All the way home, I worried about the situation. Should I go on my trip and risk having it break off or cancel my trip and get it fixed as soon as she got back? I kept changing my mind.

            My cousin and his wife stopped by soon after I arrived home. Since he is a dentist, he looked at the damaged crown and said it could break while I was gone. But he told me to go on my trip.

            His wife said, “They do have dentists in Indiana.”

            Later that night, I continued to play the scenarios over and over in my mind. Finally, I put my worries aside and decided to make the trip.

            Being careful meant no delicious corn on the cob. Of course, I could cut the kernels and eat it. I could dice food into small pieces and not bite anything with my front teeth. With those precautions in mind, worry slipped away.

            Then I realized my concern wasn’t just for the possibility of pain or difficulty eating but embarrassment and pride at having a ragged tooth and looking ugly.  

            Of course, finding a dentist in an unfamiliar town who could help me might be difficult. When I remembered the numerous times God provided for me in the past, I had confidence He will continue to provide for my needs.

            I thought of people disfigured by many terrible situations. My problem was not as severe and could be fixed. Because of my cracked crown, God spoke to my heart.

Dear Lord, thank you for taking care of me in all sorts of situations. Help me remember what you have done in the past so I won’t worry about the future. Amen

Home from My Hawaiian Mission

“A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. All men will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.”

(John 13: 34-35 NIV)

            My latest mission trip is over. Three months before he died, Alan and I went to Jamaica on our last official mission trip. Since then, my desire to travel has diminished along with wanting to join a group to minister in a foreign country or even in another state.

            However, grief has made me more aware of the hurts and needs of those around me. My heart aches for those in pain and grief. God constantly places people in my world who need comfort, encouragement, and understanding.

            A young mother wheeled her daughter’s stroller into the waiting area by the gate. Her cherub smiled at me. I waved and smiled back. She waved and we continued our game until she and her mom boarded the plane.

            A twinge of sadness hit me as I walked the ramp without Alan. But instead of dwelling on my loneliness, that morning I prayed God would show me someone I could help during my trip.

            On the plane, I looked for my seat and was surprised to see the window seat taken by the mother and my tiny playmate. Even though she didn’t act like she needed comfort, I was glad they were my seatmates.

            “I hope she is ok. This is her first flight. I hope she doesn’t bother you,” the mother said.

            “I’m a grandma and was a teacher for a long time,” I said. “She will be fine and won’t bother me.”

            The mother shared about her job working for a company that promotes baseball and softball. When I told her about my granddaughter Ashlyn playing softball, she said she played too. In fact, she got a scholarship to the University of Florida and continued playing professional ball for a few years.

            Later, I told her I was alone because of the loss of my husband. Then I found out that her dad, who lived with her, died a few months earlier. Three weeks later, her mom’s long time boyfriend passed away unexpectedly. Both deaths affected her and her mom.

            “I want to give you one of my books. I wrote it after losing my parents and husband in a short time. God has gotten me through it,” I said.

            “Thank you so much. I’ll read it and give it to my mom who is having a hard time. When I saw you in the waiting area smiling at my daughter, I hoped you would sit by us.”

            God orchestrated my mission that day by connecting us. I understood about having a child and flying alone. My book offered comfort for her and her mom.

            Their presence kept me from lonely and made the five-hour flight go quickly.

            My mission trip wasn’t an organized group of people with a specific destination and purpose. But it was being open to the opportunity next to me and began my mission to Hawaii.

Loving Father, thank you for putting specific people in our lives. Guide us in how we can minister wherever we are. Amen