I am in pain. Not physical pain (not right now) but pain none-the-less. Sitting in the dentist’s office, with an x-ray of my teeth sitting in front of me and a dental hygienist across from me, I listened as she explained. She explained what each picture meant. What each color meant. What needed to be fixed. How much it would cost. She was sweet. She knew that I am a 26-year-old newlywed with no health insurance that works as a server in a restaurant (despite my college degree). It hurt her that I – a complete stranger even though she knew my complete dental history – could not afford to fix all the problems.
As tears rolled my down cheeks, she comforted me. She told me that she understood. The story about her daughter (who is in the same position but has a higher paying non-dream job with benefits) was nearly helpful. I didn’t sob. But it all overwhelmed me. I felt stuck. Stuck in a position that I couldn’t do anything about. I remembered this feeling. I knew it well.
Years ago I put myself into a dark hole. This hole wasn’t one that money could fix. There was no easy fix. Deep depression caused by my own poor decisions and choice to walk away from my Father. It was worse than the decay that had been slowly working it’s way into my teeth. But it worked the same way. It was slow and it ate away at the healthy parts of my life. My relationships with my parents and friends. My relationship with my Savior which I attempted to sever. I made choices – life choices – while in that hole that would affect me forever.
Looking back it’s crazy to think how often I uttered the words, “I will never get married.” Never. That is an absolute word. Know what I love about absolutes? They are absolute. But that wasn’t one. I tried to make it one. I pushed people away. I built high high walls and no matter how well people climbed, how big their explosives were, the wall was not coming down and could not be scaled. I refused. I was in charge…or at least I thought.
God broke down that wall. He didn’t work at it brick-by-brick. He blasted it with his God-sized artillery. I wasn’t prepared. I ended up in His arms, in pain, and not knowing what to do. That non-physical pain that overwhelmed my body makes today’s dentist visit seem simple. It’s not simple. It’s not easy. But know what I have now that I didn’t realize that I had then? You’re right: Jesus.
He’s here. With me. In this. Provider. Savior. With good for His girl. His girl.
“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise!”