Beautiful Teeth?

 

“You have beautiful teeth,” the lady told me.  I am not certain what the correct response to this statement is, but since the woman was a dental hygienist and had her hands (and instruments of torture) in my mouth, I said, “Mrggth…”

“I’m sure your patients appreciate your welcoming smile,” she went on.  “I think there’s nothing like a smile to let you know that someone is glad to see you.”

Once again, I made a muffled grunting noise.  Somehow, I’ve found conversations at the dentist’s office are a trifle one sided.  Maybe I could record some responses ahead of time for future visits and play them at appropriate moments.

I began to contemplate what she had said.  I don’t have beautiful teeth.  They are strong enough and I haven’t had to have many fillings over the years, but my teeth aren’t straight and never have been.

If there was a Mr. America contest, I’m sure I’d be knocked out in the first round because of my smile.  And yet… I do think that smiles are important – regardless of how straight your teeth are.

One of the things I noticed with COVID masking was that I couldn’t see people’s smiles any more.  Maybe people weren't smiling as much anyway, but it felt like something was missing.  Regardless of what you thought about masks, they took away one of the best methods for making someone feel comfortable – a smile.

Proverbs 13:13 says, “A glad heart makes a cheerful face, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed.”

Our faces are windows that reveal what our hearts are experiencing.

More than that, smiles are just like yawns.  They are contagious.  It just takes one person smiling in a workplace and a heavy atmosphere starts to lift.  Smiles are meant to be shared.  Nothing should hold back our smiles – not even teeth that aren’t straight or beautiful.

Talk Like a Pirate?

 

“ARRRRGH!”  Quoth I to my patient who had seated himself upon the chair closest to the door.  “Avast ye, matey!  What art thou a-doing here, ye scurvy knave?”

“Ahm,” spake my patient, seriously discomfited with my fiercesome manner of speech.  “Excuse me?”

“Arrrgh!”  I said again.  “I said, what be ye doin’ here, ya land lubber?”

“I’m here for my check up,”  my patient answered, in a feeble voice.  “You were going to check on my sugars…”

“And what have ye been eatin’?”  I queried.  “Shiver me Timbers!  Mayhap ye have been chasing Little Debbie around the Kitchen – if ye catch my drift or Perhaps doing a Tango with the Twinkies.  We’ll do blood work for certain!  I’ll draw it with my very own cutlass and if I find that your sugars are high – why – why, I’ll keel-haul ye!”

A trace of fear passed across the visage of the gentleman sitting across from me.  “Why are you talking like that?”  He questioned me.  “Where’s my doctor?”

“I am your doctor!”  I cried in a loud voice.  “I am the Dread Doctor Waldron, Scourge of the Spanish Main and Viceroy of Delhi!  Look upon me, ye mortal and cower in fear!”

I could have cut the silence that entered the room with my cutlass.

“I’m going to send you to the leaches to draw some of thy blood,” I proclaimed.  “You scallywag, If I find thy A1C is up, why I’ll make you walk the plank!  I’ll feed you to the sharks!  I’ll have you see the inside of the Locker of Mr. Davy Jones himself!”

“Oh,” I finished.  “Listen, you bilge rat, I would have you hear that our office will be sending you a survey in a few days.  If ye value your scurvy self, ye will see that the marks are high.  All tens, you hear?”

International Talk Like a Pirate Day is only a month away.  September 19^th is the official day and Pirate Waldron would recommend that ye practice a little ahead of time.  Ye wouldn’t like to be caught napping by the Coast Guard, now would ye?

Tis fortunate that above dialogue is simply a figment of my (overly active) imagination.  For, while it might feel good to wax piratical when dealing with others in our lives, it is unlikely to help most situations.  I believe that most of my patients would prefer to seek attention from a medical man who does not speak like a pirate nor listen to medical advice from a doctor who rants and raves like Blackbeard on his third bottle of grog.

The Apostle Paul wrote to the assembly at Colosse, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you should answer each person.”

Those who are wise would do well, to be certain, not only of what they say, but of how they say it.  For oft times a man will listen to a gently phrased encouragement, while he will stir up a hurricane when he feels under attack.

Personally, I think that I will forego piratical curses on September 19^th in favor of words with kinder phrasing -- and not just to help my office surveys.  I may even leave my cutlass at home too.

The Wrong Notes

 

 

One day, it came to pass, that I found myself sitting in the sanctuary of my church.  Now, this is not surprising, for I attend there frequently when I am not Out of Town.  Further, I appreciate muchly both the singing and The People, for they Love Jesus and Encourage me Greatly.

Now, as I sat in my seat, the singing came to an end, and I realized that I had been called to the front to share a Sermon.  Now, this also was not too surprising, for I have been known to teach and even preach within our little church.

I went forward to do what was asked of me and standing at the front of the church, I looked out into the congregation.  Now, I must confess that I do not picture people sitting in their underclothes when I am speaking.  I am not certain who thought that practice would be Helpful, but I find it distinctly Not Helpful to calm anxiety.

Forthwith, I opened my Bible and removed some sheets of paper which entailed my notes on the subject of Abram and Lot.  Except, looking at these wondrous fair Sheets of Papyrus, I found that they had none of my hieroglyphics on them, but rather writing that looked much like that of my fair wife.

Lo, I studied the first page and found that it was a recipe for Zucchini Brownies.  Now, Zucchini Brownies are Delectable and Moist and Tasty and The Bomb and All That, but they are not a subject for a Sermon.  In fact, I do not know for certain if either Abram or Lot ever tasted Zucchini Brownies, but I think not.

I turned to the next page, hoping Beyond Hope, to find something Worth Preaching About, but found a wondrous recipe for Peach Jam.  Now, once again, I have had Elaine’s Peach Jam and it is Worth Talking About – only not on Sunday morning.

It was at this point that I raised my head to the congregation, when by a Wonderful Stroke of Providence, I heard a beeping sound start and I realized that it was my Alarm Clock.  It was time to Wake Up and get ready for Another Day.

Now, when I was a boy, I hated any story that ended with the words, “And with that, he woke up and discovered that it had all been a dream.”  Except, that in this case, I was Awful Glad that it had just been a dream.

I have been told that oft-times our anxieties are revealed in our dreams.  Verily, it is true that I worry much about things, many of which may never come to pass.  I worry that my children might not grow up to Love Jesus.  I worry that my patients might not be as Healthy as Other Doctor’s Patients.  Apparently, I even worry that I would bring my wife’s recipes to church and try to preach from them.

I have often pondered the solution for anxiety.  I have heard Ministers say things like “Let Go and Let God” at which point, I picture myself holding onto a rope on the side of cliff and wonder how letting go will help God out.

Jesus said, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”  Verily, this is a true statement, but for an Anxious Man, figuring out how not to drag tomorrow’s problems into today is a Challenge.  It seems to me that our focus is to be on the Things of God.  If we pursue the Kingdom of God, mayhap we will not have as much attention to focus on the worries of tomorrow or the regrets of yesterday.

Our Heavenly Father knoweth who we are and of what we are made.  He wants us to trust Him – even to get us through a public speaking experience with the Wrong Notes.