I went to bed and deliberately stayed there this past Friday night (really it was 3am Saturday) . . . .
. . . . even after having realized that I hadn't brushed and flossed my teeth. This hasn't happened since . . . I don't know . . . it's been years . . . unless you count being on airplanes for 24 hours straight, but I don't count those anymore. I eat vegan on them and my mouth doesn't *feel* as polluted that way (though it most certainly is as my breath can knock over even the burliest of flight attendants).
But there was that one time when I was between the ages of 6 and 10 . . . As I was heading to bed on a Saturday night, Mom and Dad said, "Jason, did you brush your teeth?" Arggg!
"No. I'm going to bed," I said.
"Oh, no you're not," said Mom, but I went into our bedroom anyway with a particularly ugly scowl that unfortunately only God could see (Stephen was asleep in the bottom bunk and lights were out). Mom said, "JASON! GET IN THERE and BRUSH YOUR TEETH!" Mom didn't get my point. I needed just this one time to be freed from obedience; it was very important to my growing independence and maturation. "JASON!"
"MOM!" said I.
"BRUSH. Your. TEETH! Now!"
"Grrr!" said I. I took the six to eight steps between bedroom and bathroom, stood up on the stool ("This little stool of mine, I use it all the time, to . . .), and oh was my tear smeared face ugly in that bathroom mirror. I watched myself say the words "YOU'RE AS MEAN AS THE DEVIL!" (I was mad but, fortunately, I thought about it carefully for 0.008 seconds so that I was careful not to say, "You're *meaner than* the devil.")
As soon as I screamed those words outloud my face instantly became sorrowful. I said, "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!" though too late, because quickly I saw Mom's reflection as she whipped around behind me with the flyswatter! (She was quite agile in those days.) I kept apologizing sincerely as she swatted me and swatted me and swatted me. (I think it was more than three times, but this was loving discipline for sure.)
In fact, I was almost glad that Mom had swatted me and done so so vehemently. I knew that I deserved it. I had been unreasonable, disobedient, and rebellious. (Though nothing compared to sins I've committed since.) And I brushed my teeth really well that night and for every night since . . . until this past Friday night.
Why can't I be that sorrowful and repentant and obedient now, especially about *big* things besides personal dental care? Maybe I can be more repentant. I want to learn what it takes to be so. Maybe it would help for me to think of God as a person--even a mother--who really does know what's best for us . . . even if it means having to take swats.
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5 comments:
I eat vegan all the time... so it's like I'm constantly flying.
And when I was a kid I used to walk into the bathroom... run water on my toothbrush... mimic getting toothpaste out... stand there... stand there... stand there... decide I'd stood long enough, make spitting noises... run the sink again, and leave.
Why? Simple... to save time. Brushing your teeth took SO LONG and I thought "faking it" was faster.
I still think that sorrow over dental care is very important. Good thing I was still jet lagged this past Friday night. Or maybe I just passed out when you kissed me goodnight?
-Nicole
I am glad you brush your teeth before coming around me :-).
If we ever could really grasp God as Father, Son, and Spirit, who is always with us then how would that change the way we attempt to live out our daily faith?
Nicole... I agree. There is a difference between just feeling guilty you didn't brush your teeth, and having true dental sorrow which leads to rebrushing.
I'm sure that most of us have faked cleaning our teeth at some point in our lives (childhood, of course!!!) I mean...it IS quicker...right???
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