Wouldn't you want to protect this precious creature from a cobra?

Reader, I should probably warn you that I don't really hold my punches anymore. Enjoy!

It's time once again to dote on my adorably gorgeous cat. Aww, look at that photo above. I think she's doing one of her supercatmodel poses. Wait. Why is her leg striped like a tabby's? Isn't she supposed to be a Siamese cat? And why does she have one white paw with a gray finger while the rest of her leg is gray-tabby-striped? And this isn't showing in the picture, but why does she also have beigish-tan coloring, especially on her back feet, as if she were a calico? I guess there's something wrong with her, because she isn't like any other Siamese cat I've ever seen. A Siamese/tabby/calico cat? I've never heard of such a thing. I can criticize her like this because I'm God, right?

Wrong! Of course there's nothing wrong with my little cat. (Reader, I hope you could smell my purposeful ridiculousness in the above paragraph.) I am definitely NOT God, and I definitely did NOT create my adorably gorgeous little cat. God did. He really did make her to be a half-Siamese, half-tabby, partially calico cat who's very petite and still very kittenish even though she's technically a senior cat. And she's extremely precious to me. But do you know who thrives on criticizing precious, perfectly designed, innocent creatures like her? Cobras.

"Their venom is like the venom of a snake, like that of a cobra that has stopped its ears, that will not heed the tune of the charmer, however skilful the enchanter may be. Break the teeth in their mouths, O God; tear out, O Lord, the fangs of the lions!" (Psalm 58:4-6)

"A serpent may bite when it is not charmed; the babbler is no different." (Ecclesiastes 10:11, NKJV)

"...they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all..." (Mark 16:18a)

Those of you who are my Facebook friends may have read some of my allegorical stories/status updates this past summer. I really did used to be a cobra, even after I got saved. From what I understand, the passages I quoted above are talking about people -- metaphorical cobras. (I don't think Mark really meant for Christians to test their Christianity by handling literal snakes.) I used to be a Pharisee -- a hyperreligious, spiteful little cobra -- even after I got saved, and I've recently let God defang me. (Painful, non-anaesthetized procedures like that can happen in the wilderness.)

Cobras can be pretty darn scary. They're venomous, and they can seriously snap. When I did a tiny bit of research, I discovered that cobras aren't peaceful little vegetarians. They can sometimes eat other cobras.

Why am I talking about cobras? Previously, I've blogged about spiritual abuse. Today, I want to continue blogging my thoughts about spiritual abuse. After you leave an abusive environment and integrate into a healthy environment, you may take a while to notice the healthiness because you've been steeping in the unhealthiness for so long... but you'll notice that in the abusive environment, you had tolerated certain behaviors that you shouldn't have tolerated, and you put up with mistreatment that you shouldn't have put up with. Some parts of this post may sound a bit vague, but I hope they all fit together and make sense in the end.

Often, living among spiritual abusers means living among cobras. The abusers/cobras more than likely believe that everything is urgent, everything is potential for unnecessary/desired drama, and anything can be forced. God showed me that the internal default setting of a cobra is strife. I believe He's also shown me that one type of strife is mocking.

"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers." (Psalm 1:1)

"Drive out the mocker, and out goes strife; quarrels and insults are ended." (Proverbs 22:10)

"Do not make friends with a hot-tempered man, do not associate with one easily angered, or you may learn his ways and get yourself ensnared." (Proverbs 22:24)

Please understand that what I'm about to explain (and I'll explain my experience/opinion) doesn't describe every situation. I'm sure that not every spiritually abusive environment contains strifey/mocky cobras, and not all cobras are spiritual abusers. I would just like to share my observations of certain characteristics of many spiritually abusive environments. I hope that my doing so is helpful for you, reader, especially if reading this makes a light bulb go off in your head and make you think, "Aww! Is that why my experience at that church or with this person was so crappy?" I don't want to disrespect, shame, or condemn anybody. I just want to hold my nose, point at the rotten fruit, and muffledly declare, "This is really nasty. When is somebody gonna lug this out to the Dumpster?" Also, I can talk about this because my fruit used to be this nasty, too.

Spiritual abusers/cobras tend to be excessively judgmental, critical, and insecure to the point of gossiping about people, possibly lying about it later, and definitely being two-faced to the people that they talk badly about. And sometimes the unnecessary criticalness can happen frankly to a person's face as well. I'm not talking about constructive criticism, which often is necessary. I'm talking about micromanaging and nit-picking at a person in a way that poops on them and makes the cobra look shiny and clean. For example, saying something like "Your essay has many problems that need to be fixed" would be constructive criticism, but "You suck as a writer and shouldn't even own a computer" would be cutting-down criticism and shaming.

The way that I fictionally criticized my non-fiction cat at the beginning of this post is, in a sense, a way that I have been criticized. "Why do you like Christian headbanging music? I didn't teach you that" is a minor example. "You want to be a writer, but writing is easy; I want to be an engineer, and engineering is hard" is a harsher example. "You can't be a missionary in such-and-such country, because you don't have any skills that they can use. Have you ever thought about being a musicologist in China?" is sort of a slap-in-the-face example. (There's nothing wrong with being a musicologist in China. It's just that if you believed that God wanted you to do A, being told that you should do Z, pardon my French, makes you want to say WTF.)

God made my cat very uniquely different from any other cat, and He made me very uniquely different from any other person. Perhaps I have certain characteristics that make sense, and perhaps I have other characteristics that don't make any sense at all, and perhaps God put me together that way on purpose and wanted other people to look at me, scratch their heads, and wonder what the heck. (Reader, God very uniquely designed, you, too.) If I'm square, I won't fit into any round holes, and if I'm round, I won't fit into any square holes. I know, because I almost died trying to fit into a hole that I would probably never fit into. A tragedy of spiritual abuse is cutting down a person so badly -- in a sense, redesigning them to fit your agenda, as if you were God -- that they don't fully become everything that God wants them to become... and that they don't believe they're even worth being alive anymore.

Since I used to be a cobra, I understand how cobras think and act, and I would like to offer you some tips on recognizing them and dealing with them.

1) If you're involved in church leadership, and your planning meetings turn into "let's criticize every teeny flaw that everybody has, even to the point of gossiping about the gossipers who are supposed to know better" sessions, that's a red flag. That could mean that you're accidentally spiritually abusing people yourself. Simply ask the Holy Spirit to convict you, repent if He does, and then ask God to defang you. Regardless, I think it's always a good idea to ask God to help you love people the way He does. Also, don't feed any gossipers any new information (Proverbs 18:8).

2) If you feel shamed about not doing something that Jesus commanded us to do -- especially if you hear "you better" before His command -- that could be a red flag. I'll give you an example from my life. I've always struggled with evangelizing, to the point of pushing people to pray salvation prayers (I was spiritually abusing) to ease my conscience. Hearing this during one pastor's sermon on evangelism didn't help, either: "You say you don't share the gospel with people because you don't know that plan of salvation. If you don't know the plan of salvation, then shame on you!" Once, I went to a trusted discipler/friend for help in this area. She had the gift of evangelism. So, I emailed her and asked her if she could teach me how to do evangelism. If memory serves, she emailed me back and said, "The reason you don't know how to do evangelism is because you don't do it." Well, her reply didn't exactly help me stop feeling ashamed or condemned.

3) If somebody keeps giving you a steady stream of unsolicited spiritual advice, but they're not actually spending any time with you and getting to know you, that could be a red flag. Do you remember my cat photo above? The lighting is bad. You would probably be able to tell exactly how gorgeously designed she is if you could see her in better lighting. Better yet, if you were to meet her in person and spend some time with her, you'd get to know her personality, see her intriguing patches of coloring, be amazed by her quirks, and probably understand why I love her so much. People are the same way. I'm not saying that unsolicited spiritual advice is all bad. Correction is important (Proverbs 12:1; Psalm 141:5). But giving genuine advice flowing out of a heart of genuine relationship/friendship (Proverbs 27:9) can be a very sweet, very refreshing, very awesome thing (Proverbs 25:11). Also, some unsolicited advice can be illogical, depending on the situation. For example, I've been told that cats like to be petted with a great deal of pressure, but if I pet my delicate little Siamese/tabby/calico very hard, it will hurt her. On the other hand... if somebody is spending too much time with you to the point that it's unhealthy and you don't know how to get rid of them, and they're giving you a steady stream of unsolicited spiritual advice, that's a red flag, too, because they are possibly micromanaging/nit-picking/abusing you and possibly trying to be God to you.

4) Red flag! Don't argue with a cobra! They crave strife! Cobras know how to take any tiny little word that comes out of your mouth and turn it into a criticism of you. A made-up, silly example would be telling a cobra, "You need to get more sleep, because you're always tired" and them snapping back at you in return, "When do you ever sleep? I always see you yawning and waving around a coffee cup." Sure, I can talk about how cobras operate, because I used to be one. I don't like to be around them anymore (unless they're willing to let God defang them) because they make me feel unsafe now. When I defriended somebody a while back, I concisely and frankly told this person that they smelled like a cobra. When this person replied back, they did so with a rather lengthy lecture about forgiveness and acceptance. So, apparently this person's way of proving to me that they weren't a cobra was by coiling and snapping venomously. (Reader, I hope you're catching the irony.) Sorry, but pointing a finger at me and saying, "You better love me, because Jesus loves me!" ain't exactly gonna endear me to you.

5) Cobras tend to force and manipulate. I've learned the hard way that things like love, forgiveness, and acceptance aren't things that should be demanded or forced. Cobras probably don't understand this yet. They believe that anything can be forced, and they've got the fangs and the venom and the self-power to pierce their agendas into their victims' innocent souls. In a nutshell, that's what abuse is -- forcing. Also, as a former cobra, much of my "rehab" and defanging has been unlearning bad lashing-out patterns. Anyone who I've snapped at recently can probably vouch for this. Of course, I'm not saying that anyone who's ever snapped at anybody is a cobra. (More French: PMS.) I'm saying that this is one characteristic of cobras. Cobras can also latch on with their fangs and hold on to their victims for a very long time. In my opinion and experience, cobras can be parasites, and unfastening them from your soul can be very tricky and very dangerous... but it's worth going for it. Here's a very powerful cobra-repellent word that you can always use: NO.

I've noticed that in healthy non-abusive, non-cobra environments, instead of forcing me to do something or to believe something, the church leaders will point me to God and help me see how He fashioned me uniquely. I'm not saying that they won't give me hard challenges or frankly speak truth to me. I'm saying that instead of "you better," I'll hear "I encourage you" or "I want to empower you" or "I want to help you."

Pharisees/cobras often lie to maintain their slick whitewashed look, and they often recoil and snap to defend themselves. So, reader, I can't force you to believe everything you've just read, and I don't want to lie (except for the purposefully fictionalized stuff) to make myself look good anymore, so I'm gonna have to let God defend me if I've done or said anything wrong in this post. And, of course, if you feel that I need correction, please correct me with kindness. Hopefully anyone who takes the time to get to know me will know that I've shared as truthfully as I can (and I was hopefully also a teensy bit diplomatic when it seemed appropriate).

Cobras can be very deceitful because they're snakes. But there's hope for cobras. They need to listen to the charmer. I believe that the charmer is Jesus. Another way of translating Ecclesiastes 10:11 is that if snakes bite before being charmed, "there is no profit for the charmer" (NIV). I believe that Jesus wants to charm cobras profitably. Could charmed, defanged, rehabilitated cobras become evangelists? Maybe. Could they make good entertainers? Perhaps. Are they beloved creatures? Most definitely.

As I type this paragraph, my other cat (the big tabby) is reclining next to me. He's designed very differently than my supercatmodel. He's more of a GQ cat. But I dote on him, too. Aww!

I Don't Know

Here's a picture of a dead bird that's hanging in my carport. I first saw it when I left for work two mornings ago while the bird was alive and struggling. (I've blogged previously about dead birds in my carport.) Instead of trying to free the bird myself, which I would have loved to do but which I'm not equipped to do, I called my apartment complex because it's their responsibility to keep up their grounds. Unfortunately, they haven't removed the carcass yet from the carport.

Why do birds get stuck in my carport? Why do doomed little eggs hatch in the middle of the summer? And why the heck has my apartment complex ignored the bird's carcass? In my most recent blog post, I wrote about stuff that's obvious. In today's post, I'll write about stuff that's not-so-obvious.

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." (Isaiah 43:2)

I won't go into details on this public forum, yet I won't sugarcoat it. I went through hell this summer, and I very sincerely mean "hell," but God brought me through it. I wrestled with some things that I had wrestled with in the past, I wrestled with some things that I didn't know I needed to wrestle with, and I just plain wrestled. And God won. And because of Jesus, I won, too (Romans 8:37). While I was struggling, God taught me how to be perplexed. He reinforced for me that some things need to remain a mystery. He taught me one of the sweetest phrases in the entire English language: I don't know.

I'm not saying that God doesn't know. God knows everything. He is all-knowing, period. But my heart -- that extremely sensitive, swoony thing inside me that I need to guard with all diligence (Proverbs 4:23-27) and that has a bad habit of condemning me (1 John 3:20) -- my exhaustedly war-ravaged heart doesn't know everything. But it's been learning how to let go. Perplexedly admitting I don't know helps my heart let go of what I can't control, master, or understand.

On the other hand, I'm not saying that it's wrong to try to understand things or wrestle or even to ask why. I'm reminded from time to time that asking God why isn't always a good idea because He's perfect, He's in control, and He knows what He's doing. But I'm also reminded that I'm God's child (John 1:12-13). If you've ever been around children who feel secure enough to ask you questions, they'll ask you why. I don't think children constantly ask why because they're trying to be rude or offend anybody. They just simply want to know why because they're still trying to figure out how the world works. I also think letting a child trust you enough to answer his or her incessant stream of why questions is something that can delight your heart.

Speaking of delightful, here's a photo of a live animal. This is my cat Choochie hanging out in my sock drawer. (She's closing her adorable little eyes because of the camera flash.) Recently, I've been cleaning out my apartment and throwing away old things that I don't need or want anymore. Because I temporarily removed the top drawer from one of my bureaus so that I could comb through the drawer more effectively -- and I think I had also cleaned out part of my sock drawer at this point -- Choochie was able to climb inside and make herself at home. (My cat Macho tried to hang out there, too, but he's too big to fit comfortably inside the drawer.)

There's something exhilarating about separating myself from something that's been cluttering my life for so long. After I lugged old, holey socks, etc., out to the Dumpster, I didn't even miss them.

Previously, I've blogged about Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Sometimes storing old, worn-out desires or dreams inside my heart (especially if they're attached to people who don't want to be in my life in a healthy way) can contribute to spiritual-heart infection. And sometimes cluttering my heart with pain just doesn't leave enough room for awesome stuff to live in there -- like godly dreams, desires, revelations, etc.

I'm not saying that God doesn't want some things to remain in our hearts for years on end. And I'm not saying that it's bad to grieve or to allow your heart to feel pain. In fact, I'm saying quite the contrary, and it would actually be quite another blog topic altogether -- grieving and feeling pain is necessary for spiritual-heart health. Pretending that something doesn't hurt can be damaging at so many levels. Previously, I've also blogged about pouring out your heart to God (Psalm 62:8) -- this is a healthy way for me to maintain my heart.

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4)

I would like to give you an example. I'm not a linear thinker -- I'm a vague thinker -- so the informal, unofficial process I'm about to describe isn't exact, and I think sometimes it happens lightning-fast and other times molasses-slow. One way to read Psalm 37:4 is that it lists a formula, right? If I delight myself in the Lord -- if I take delight in Him and let Him make me happy -- then He'll give me my heart's desires, right? I like God a really huge heck of a lot. He makes me extremely happy. So, one huge desire of my heart is to be married to a gorgeous man and have gorgeous babies. I've also previously blogged about my singlehood almost ad nauseam. However, one very huge roadblock to this very huge dream of my heart is, well, I haven't had a date in 18 years. Yes, the last time I was romantically involved with anybody was half my lifetime ago. (No, I respectfully refuse to shop for a husband online.) I've tried pretty much everything I can think of -- from throwing myself at guys to waiting for them to pursue me, from wearing makeup and fancy clothes to skipping the makeup and wearing sweats, from liking only certain types of guys to liking pretty much any Christian bachelor who crosses my path -- and still I got nothin'.

Why?

I don't know.

If I hurt about my lack of husband, I pour out my heart and cry to my God who is my Shepherd, with whom I lack nothing (Psalm 23:1). If I'm angry about my lack of husband, I pour out my heart and maybe yell at my God who is my safe Refuge. If I'm boy-crazy because I have a lack of husband, I find a comfortable spot where I can pour out my heart and talk face-to-face with God who is my Best Friend and be, like, all boy-crazy-swoony with Him.

Then at some point, I'm reminded that I should probably treat my lack of husband as a mystery -- because if it's a formula, then I've somehow failed royally at following it. But if God reminds me that I'm perplexed but not in despair, then I can empty out the spiritual-mucus of my spiritual-heart, avoid infection, move on, let go, and enjoy what God has for me right now. In this way, if I aim for Psalm 37:4, I get to do Psalm 37:3, too. Bonus! Now if my heart isn't obsessing over my lack of gorgeous husband and lack of gorgeous babies, my heart has more room to sincerely rejoice with people who are celebrating a new spouse or a new child. I'm not ignoring my pain -- I'm just pouring out, being perplexed, and letting go. And I don't think there's anything wrong with repeating that process multiple times if necessary. (I'm discovering that I can be a pretty swoony chick.) And singlehood is just one example, of course, of being perplexed.

How can I make room for an adorable little feline to snuggle in my sock drawer if it's too full of old socks that need to be lugged out to the Dumpster?

Why do terrible things happen to nice people while awesome things happen to total jerks?

I don't know.

Why do innocent creatures that live near nice trees end up nesting in and getting trapped in rickety carports that are maintained by apathetic apartment complexes?

I don't know.

Why does God sometimes ask me to do extremely hard things that can result in extreme pain?

I don't know.

Why does pain happen, why does injustice linger, and why does evil lurk in a world that God created and that is inhabited by people who He loves so much -- and why did He sacrifice His Son to redeem the people who inhabit this world, even though they rejected Him, hurt Him, and spat in His face while He did it? And why did He go through with it in the first place if He knew that so freakin' many people wouldn't want anything to do with Him?

I don't know. But I do know the One who knows. And I know that He loves me, wants me, and takes extremely good care of me. And I don't think He minds me being, like, all swoony over Him.

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.)