A Divine Appointment At the Dentist Office

I went to my dentist appointment with deep anxiety. I have an exposed root and the cleanings are always painful. I hate going. I never know when it is going to happen...but it always does. Sudden stabs of electric pain that make me levitate from the chair. 

Anyway, i took Tylenol and headed there with heart pounding. Resigned to my fate. To top off my anxiety, my regular hygienist who at least knows me and has seen me for years and is as gentle as possible is no longer there. Me and my painful teeth were to be subjected to a new hygienist. 

When I saw her, my spirits drooped even more. She was young...a mere child. How could she have any experience with terrible painful, fearful patients like me???? I settled in the chair, heart palpitations surely en route to a heart attack. 

She asked if there were any new medical issues since my last dental visit.

“Yes,” I said hoarsely, “I have strained vocal cords.”

“Are you a singer?”she asked.

I almost lied to avoid the inevitable discussion. However, God never gives me a pass.

“No...I am a sidewalk counselor in front of an abortion center.”

She paused laying out the tools of torment on the tray.

Silence. 

I get that response often. I soldiered on.

“I call out to women as they enter the abortion center. We offer them the hope of God and tangible resources to help them. I have to speak loudly or they won’t hear. You’d be surprised how many are conflicted and respond to our pleas.”

“How long have you done this?”she asked me.

“Seven years. I feel I am called by God to be a voice for the voiceless...but now I have no voice.”

She wore a mask, as all health care workers do now in this age of Covid-19. However, I could see her eyes, and they were filled with tears.

“What will you do?”she asked, wiping her eyes.

“I train others to call out,” I said, “Sometimes I whisper to them what they should say and they call out for me. I start vocal therapy next week. I am hoping I will get my voice back. It is a great ministry. Almost every day, we see at least one baby saved.”

Now the young lady removed her mask so she could blow her nose in earnest and wipe her tears. She didn’t say much but I knew she loved God. Sometimes you can just tell. I was still terrified as she began scraping at my teeth, but there was a sense of peace on the edge of my panic. What will be, will be. I will get through the pain and in an hour it will be done, I told myself.

I asked a few questions about her life, and soon was completely certain this sweet young lady knew the Lord. Minutes ticked by. I could not believe it when she finished scraping and polishing. 

“All done,” she said, smiling.

I had not experienced even one second of painful twinge.

I thanked her and told her I had never had a dental cleaning without pain.

“I am called by God, too,” she told me, “to this work.”

I had not expected in a million years to see Jesus or to be blessed by a dentist appointment. God is always surprising me.