This old photo of ChloeBeth sums up my thoughts for what I have to do today. Visit the dentist.Most of you are wondering why in the world I am making such a big deal about simply going to the dentist (and only for a cleaning!). True, it is not like facing aliens, sharks or tornadoes (right Brad?). However, to me, it is surely a high anxiety day!My dental phobia could stem from the fact that my mother has always been terrified of the man in the white coat (by the way, with all that blood, shouldn't they wear black?). She is so afraid that she has to have valium called in for her the day before going. Gee, mom, at least I don't need that. I only need the gas cranked up on high, a half-dozen extra shots of novocaine and an office full of patience.Or, maybe the fear could be from the experience I had in the 5th grade. We lived in a little town with only one dentist. He also happened to be the town drunk (which, of course, being new to the town, we didn't know). My mom is sitting in the waiting room while I am back having a tooth looked at. The guy decides we need to just pull it. What?! You don't just "decide" to pull a tooth! You have to prepare the person!! Especially a kid!!! So, he gives me a shot and comes back a little too quick in my assessment. After all, my mouth doesn't seem numb enough. Oh, no, he is the smart one with a degree on his wall to prove it. He begins to yank (oh, Lord, the memory is even right now making me break out in sweat). He keeps on yanking and I am trying to tell him that something isn't right because it HURTS. He continues! I think he even has his foot on the arm rest of the chair for leverage. I am now screaming. My mom is hearing me screaming all the way in the waiting room. Little help can she give when she is fainting in the chair. So, after successfully pulling out the tooth, I walk out of the office in a stooper, planning some kind of revenge. My revenge came. Two weeks later it was all in the newspaper that he was in a fight at the little movie theater and was arrested and served time for punching a guy in the face (guess he was still practicing his dental skills).Now, the toughest part of this phobia is trying my best to be brave and not pass this on to my girls. Abbie has an appointment today too. I will put on my "no fear" face (and keep my shaking hands in my pocket). And while I am at it, I will put on two more layers of deodorant. Oh, and make her go first.
Most importantly, I will pray (listen, don't you think for one minute I leave that part out!). Our Sunday School lesson yesterday focused on anxiety and worry. All those scriptures are jumping out at me today. He was already preparing this scaredy-cat.......Philippians 4:6, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God."
Day 1:
Mommy heading off to sunny Ft. Lauderdale.
Daddy picking up a sick child from school.
Day 2:
Mommy boarding cruise ship.
Daddy cleaning up throw up from a second sick child.
Day 3:
Mommy sleeping in the sun somewhere on the ocean.
Daddy trying to get girls ready for basketball and cheerleading pictures and game. Where are those socks?!?!
Day 4:
Mommy basking in the sun wondering what is for lunch.
Daddy preaching the Word and wondering what Mommy will think when she finds out what the girls are wearing to church.
Day 5:
Mommy visiting the lighthouse in Aruba.
Daddy finding out there is no school today. Who ordered the snow?!
Day 6:
Mommy touring Cartegena, Columbia. Whew, it's so hot.
Daddy waking up. No school. Ice storm on the way. Whew, it's so cold.
Day 7:
Mommy making her way through the Panama Canal. Wondering if the towel boy will find her a fresh towel to lay out on.
Daddy thankful he made it through the night. Trees cracking. Power out. No school.
Day 8:
Mommy going to the DelMonte banana plantation in Limon, Costa Rica.
Daddy trying to figure out how to live without power and three very bored girls. No school.
Day 9:
Mommy spending the day at sea. Wondering what time they were serving ice cream.
Daddy spending the day being a referee. Good grief, how long will the power be out?! No school.
Day 10:
Mommy soaking her feet in the warm water of Ocho Rios, Jamaica.
Daddy thankful for power! Now find the tv remote quick!
Day 11:
Mommy wandering up to the sun deck. Must squeeze out every last drop of sun. Hey, are they serving lobster and shrimp tonight?
Daddy wondering how many clothes the girls can dirty in one day?! Is the dishwasher full again?!
Day 12:
Mommy hoping she can fit back into her jeans that she wore to the ship. Heading to airport.
Daddy watching the clock. No school. Praying no delays at airport.
Day 13:
Daddy sleeping in. Yawn. Wondering what is for breakfast.
Mommy cooking, sweeping, vacuuming, running dishwasher. All before her first cup of coffee. No school.
Life back in order. Just the way Mommy really loves it to be (and Daddy, too!).
Wow. What an incredible man. I love you and am a very blessed woman.
1 Peter 3:7a, "You husbands likewise live with your wives in an understanding way..."
Monday * January 16 * 1995 * 4:59 a.m.After being told more than likely I would never be able to conceive children, you (and the Lord!) proved them wrong. We brought home the perfect baby girl.....at least until two days later when you began screaming your head off. The adventure began.One thing I remember the most is riding home with you from the hospital. We were a nervous wreck! Can we really just take this baby home with us? What do we do with her? Do they trust us? Is this even legal? I was washed over with fear. So afraid of making mistakes, and boy did we make plenty!You put us to work right away. Normally, colic sets in about two weeks after bringing the baby home. Normally. You were already showing your individuality and trying to be a trendsetter that you started two days after coming home. Ugh. The doctor even felt sorry for us (or was that a chuckle I heard?). He said you were one of "those" babies that are classified as having severe colic. Again, showing your head-strong personality. In many ways, you are a guinea pig. Sometimes that works to your advantage and sometimes not. Just please remember that no matter how many mistakes we make, we are crazy-madly in love with you. You are beautiful on the outside and radiant on the inside. You make us proud.Above all, I consider it a high honor to be able to call you my sister in Christ. I know you have heard me say it many, many times (you can probably say it from memory!) that God has an amazing plan for your future. You, my love, will be an incredible force in God's army. He won't waste that individuality and head-strong personality that He placed in you from birth. Psalm 1:3, "He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers."
A new year. A fresh start. A chance to think about your life over the past 12 months and to think of the direction you would like for it to go in the new year.I came across a story in my quiet time that made me stop and think. Henry Thoreau (19th century) was sent to jail because he refused to pay a poll tax in his state. He knew this tax would support slavery. As he sat in jail, his buddy Ralph Waldo Emerson came to see him and questioned him as to why in the world he was in jail (assuming Thoreau should have just paid the tax). I love what Henry said. He simply looked Emerson in the eye and boldly asked, "Nay, Ralph. The question is, What are you doing out there?" Ouch.We (I) need to ask that very question of myself. Would I have been in a prison cell beside Paul or hiding behind my pot at the well? Would I be discussing the issue of slavery along side Thoreau behind iron bars or hiding behind behind my sheets drying on the clothes line? Would I be known in my community for being a sold-out lover of Christ or hiding behind my coffee mug at Starbucks?The photo is of Abbie on our Haiti trip. It reminds me of the legacy I am leaving to my girls. May they say of me that their mama was passionate about Jesus. And may they follow in my footsteps.
This old photo of ChloeBeth sums up my thoughts for what I have to do today. Visit the dentist.Most of you are wondering why in the world I am making such a big deal about simply going to the dentist (and only for a cleaning!). True, it is not like facing aliens, sharks or tornadoes (right Brad?). However, to me, it is surely a high anxiety day!My dental phobia could stem from the fact that my mother has always been terrified of the man in the white coat (by the way, with all that blood, shouldn't they wear black?). She is so afraid that she has to have valium called in for her the day before going. Gee, mom, at least I don't need that. I only need the gas cranked up on high, a half-dozen extra shots of novocaine and an office full of patience.Or, maybe the fear could be from the experience I had in the 5th grade. We lived in a little town with only one dentist. He also happened to be the town drunk (which, of course, being new to the town, we didn't know). My mom is sitting in the waiting room while I am back having a tooth looked at. The guy decides we need to just pull it. What?! You don't just "decide" to pull a tooth! You have to prepare the person!! Especially a kid!!! So, he gives me a shot and comes back a little too quick in my assessment. After all, my mouth doesn't seem numb enough. Oh, no, he is the smart one with a degree on his wall to prove it. He begins to yank (oh, Lord, the memory is even right now making me break out in sweat). He keeps on yanking and I am trying to tell him that something isn't right because it HURTS. He continues! I think he even has his foot on the arm rest of the chair for leverage. I am now screaming. My mom is hearing me screaming all the way in the waiting room. Little help can she give when she is fainting in the chair. So, after successfully pulling out the tooth, I walk out of the office in a stooper, planning some kind of revenge. My revenge came. Two weeks later it was all in the newspaper that he was in a fight at the little movie theater and was arrested and served time for punching a guy in the face (guess he was still practicing his dental skills).Now, the toughest part of this phobia is trying my best to be brave and not pass this on to my girls. Abbie has an appointment today too. I will put on my "no fear" face (and keep my shaking hands in my pocket). And while I am at it, I will put on two more layers of deodorant. Oh, and make her go first.
