Duh

Disclaimer: I think part of the way that God designed me as an artist and as a writer is that I sort of etherealize almost everything. I'll experience something, and then I'll express it artistically with as much imagery and figurative language as possible so that my audience will re-experience the experience with me all over again. I think the psalmists of the Bible are similar when it came to expressing emotions. I have a relationship with God, I worship Him, I adore Him, I love Him hopefully more than I will ever love anything or anyone else; and I belong to Him, and He's near me, and He and I have conversations, and almost everything around me reminds me of Him and how I relate to Him. So, almost everything has metaphorical potential to me; perhaps that might get old to you, reader, after a while. But I'll do my best to explain what I'm feeling and learning as accurately and freshly as possible. Also, I might write about my cats.

Tirzah's dental adventures continue! (Trumpet fanfare plays here.)

The other day at the dentist's office, I got a temporary crown on my tooth. While the assistant stood by with the mouth-hygiene equipment, the dentist explained the procedure and walked me through it. From what I understand (from the dentist and my online research), in order to save my decayed tooth and its root, my tooth was compacted or drilled down to a tiny nub, the decay was fished/drilled out and filled in, and a hollow crown was cemented in place so that it looks like my old tooth minus the decay. I'm glad that my tooth and gums were numb during the procedure, because it sounded painful. Before they fitted on the crown, I went through a mini grieving process when I realized that my old tooth was no more. But after the procedure was over and I went back to my car, I looked in the mirror and was delighted to see that the dark spot in my mouth was gone, and the temporary, gritty crown looks a heck of a lot like my old tooth.

I realized that God is sort of like a dentist, but not really. God doesn't usually numb my pain when He works on me. His procedures often hurt. Also, while my dentist works, he looks down at me, but he doesn't really look at me; his gaze is fixed on my teeth. I think God's eyes are fixed right on me.

"Keep me as the apple of Your eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings..." (Psalm 17:8)

"My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart." (Psalm 38:7-8)

"He hurls down His hail like pebbles. Who can withstand His icy blast? He sends His word and melts them; He stirs up His breezes, and the waters flow." (Psalm 147:17-18)

"Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle?" (Job 38:22-23)

"I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Open wide your mouth and I will fill it." (Psalm 81:10)

I'd like to give you a broad example. God has shown me that my spiritual mouth is the way that I receive (words, love, people, etc.). If my spiritual mouth is in need of repair, I could take something or respond to something the wrong way. I think years of wearing braces gave me a high tolerance for tooth pain in a similar way that years of abuse gave me a high tolerance for spiritual pain.

If there's a dark spot on my tooth, and meat gets stuck in it when I bite down on it, and it bleeds when I floss, and this continues on for years and I learn to live with it, the signs of decay will probably just fade into the background until it becomes normal. Then when I go to the dentist because I finally notice a hole in my tooth one day, the dental staff will look at me and ask, "Uh, how long has it been this way?" And I'll answer, "I just noticed it the other morning." But, of course, the damage didn't happen overnight. The decay was occurring and increasing over time.

Let's take anger, for example. Anger is something that many Christians ignore because Christians are supposedly supposed to be happy all the time. Pffft. Come on. Have you even cracked open your Bibles and read any of the psalms, you emotionally robotic fakey-fake Christians?!? Anger is a dangerous animal that should not be stuffed down inside you where it can turn into depression or other problems!!! Sigh. Calm down, Tirzah. Sorry, reader. I'll chill now. (Seriously, though, even God gets angry sometimes.)

If I have angry outbursts, there's a strong chance that there's some decay underneath the surface that's been eating away at me for a while -- possibly even all my life. Psalm 4 shows that there are times when anger in and of itself isn't a sin, but what you do with anger could lead to sin. I've learned over and over again that anger is often a symptom of another unidentified issue. For instance, if I'm angry at a friend for not listening to me, I should take my anger to God and let Him help me figure out why I'm angry, instead of me puking my anger out on my friend in an unhealthy way. (I'm not saying that I shouldn't be assertive with my friend about my issues in a healthy, mature way; that would be another topic altogether.) The procedure might look something like the following.

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Lord, I can't believe so-and-so didn't listen to me! What the freakin' heck?!? And why am I mad about this?

You're human. You have feelings. Something like this is supposed to make you mad.

(Climbs into the dental chair.) But why does this bother me so much?

(Points a mirror at the decayed tooth and shows her the damage.) Why do you think?

(Doesn't like what she sees in the mirror.) Aw, that's gross.

(Turns on His drill.) Mm-hmm. When you were a little girl, [insert event here] happened to you, which opened the door to [insert worse event here]. Now you don't believe that you're worth listening to. (Starts drilling. Bits of tooth fly everywhere.)

(Smoke fills her nostrils while she screams. Tears squirt out of her eyes.) Wait! Aren't You supposed to use anesthesia for this?

(Stops drilling. Makes eye contact with her and grins kindly and empathetically.) Nope, sorry. This way, it's faster. Hold still. (Resumes drilling.)

(Continues screaming and crying. Writhes and grips the arms of the dental chair. Tastes blood.)

(Suddenly stops drilling.) You do know that you're worth listening to, right?

(Pants hard. Gasps for air.) I am?

Heck yes, you are. (Voice becomes somewhat scary and indignant.) Do you know how I feel about you being mistreated? (Cracks knuckles.)

(Looks away.) Oh. With all due respect, could You please calm down before You start drilling again? (Wipes blood from mouth.) I forgive them. Please go easy on them. They didn't know what they were doing.

Of course, little one. I love you. But you're Mine, and I'm fiercely protective of you.

Good. I'm glad somebody is.

Almost done. This is going to look great when it's over. (Fires up drill very suddenly.)

(Screams while blood and pulverized enamel fly everywhere. Drill stops. She continues panting, and a river of tears flows speedily down her cheeks.) Gosh! What the freakin' heck was that, Lord?

(Pats her shoulder and flashes His eternally dazzling smile.) All better now? (Points a mirror at the drilled-down, crowned, and repaired tooth.)

(Marvels at the healthy pink color in her gums. Notices that the black part of the tooth is now white.) It's gone.

Are you going to miss it?

(Chuckles.) No. I like the new tooth better.

Good. You're welcome.

(Smiles her dazzling smile that hopefully looks like her Father's.) Thank You, Lord. So, I guess maybe so-and-so didn't listen to me because they were distracted with other things.

(Helps her down off the dental chair. Wipes excess blood and drool that have been dribbling down the side of her mouth.) Probably. But you're calm enough to where you can talk to them about it now if you like. Your new tooth can take it.

Do I smell like burned enamel?

(Grins.) You smell beautiful to Me. (Embraces her and snuggles her head between His shoulders.)

I still don't get why that was such a big deal to me.

Well, it required Me to fire up My drill and scrape out your gums. Something like that is supposed to hurt. (Whispers raspily and cracks knuckles.) Anytime you hurt, it's a big deal to Me.

Please forgive them for hurting me, Father. But if You ever avenge me Romans-12 style, can You please go easy on them? You're a God of mercy, too.

(Speaks gently again.) Of course, My little one. By the way, how is your owie?

(Completely lost in her Father's presence; breathes deeply and feels no pain.) Hmm? What owie?

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"He who conceals his hatred has lying lips, and whoever spreads slander is a fool." (Proverbs 10:18)

"Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit." (Matthew 7:15-17)

Growing up as a Pharisee meant always having to look good, no matter the cost. Lying was essential for covering up so that the whitewashed look was maintained. But truth has a way of getting exposed sooner or later.

Fruit has a way of exposing what type of tree it's growing on. And if there are more problems than meet the eye, the fruit will be rotten, and I guess you could say that the problems will meet the nose. The other day while I was at the produce section of the grocery store, I was struck by a weird stench. The peaches and nectarines had apparently been sitting out for too long. Good fruit smells pleasant and sweet. Bad fruit smells sour, and it attracts vermin.

Distinguishing good fruit from bad fruit can often be an obvious "duh" process. But I usually need help discerning good from bad. I mean, I was seeing a decayed tooth in the mirror for so long that it became normal to me. Blackness on tooth indicates decay. Duh.

If I read the Bible constantly, and I spend an hour in prayer every day, and I'm at church every time the doors are open, and I go door to door once a week to witness to people about Jesus, and I look very much like a Christian... but then a teeny-tiny offense happens to me, and I suddenly explode in anger and belittle the people around me and instill fear into them by yelling and intimidating... I might not smell like Christ. Duh. I've probably got at least one issue that needs investigating. If people keep avoiding me because I keep ignoring that rotten chip on my shoulder, duh, I need to clip off the chip. If I believe that I'm better than everybody else, and I wonder why I don't have any friends, duh, I need to adjust my attitude. If I yell curses at myself when I'm alone in my room and don't realize that anyone is listening, and living in anxiety and confusion is a normal way of life for me, and I wonder why I have so many health problems, duh, I need help.

If you have a decaying root, stop covering it up with your own fake tooth. Let God dig into your gum and repair the damage Himself. He's a Pro. He won't leave behind any infection. His repairs are perfect and permanent.

Bummer. I didn't write about my cats after all. (Kazoo plays here.)