This is the story of the time I got my wisdom teeth pulled (exactly a week ago) and how I did not freak out. Despite the picture of my face before the surgery, as shown above. Isn't it beautiful?
I am the type of person to not freak out about a situation until the last very possible second, which could be considered a blessing. But there is nothing that can prepare even a grown man from having his wisdom teeth pulled spontaneously.
You see, I went to the dentist for a "preliminary appointment". That's just where you get X-Rays and the doctor says yay or nay. So he looked at them for maybe a minute and said in his Muslim accent, "They're in perfect condition to pull them out. You want to do it right now?"
...Right now?
I sat there on the seat that was in that awkward "Am I a chair or a bed?" position, and laughed. And when the doctor did not join me in the celebration of his jests, I realized he was quite serious. To which I finally respond, "Yolo. Sure." It was the most spontaneous thing I'd ever done.
The doctor told me to go have lunch and when we'd come back, he'd be ready. You know. To pull bones out of my face. So I went to have lunch with my mom and as I ate my chicken wrap I thought, This is going to be my last supper--kind of like Jesus, except I'm not getting crucified. And this is lunch. That may sound like I was freaking out, but I call it comic relief.
Anyway, so about 20 minutes later I was back in the awkward "Am I a chair or a bed?" seat in the dentist's cubicle thing, and he went straight to swabbing my gums with some sort of gel which tingled and numbed them. And then there came the needles.
My friends. My fellow readers. Those needles...were perhaps the worst part of the entire procedure, but I closed my eyes and tried to think about something else. Someone else, who was not me, who was better than me, who I could give my full attention to.
Cheesy or not, I thought about Jesus the entire time. I thought about how great he is, and imagined him in the room with me, and it was literally the best thing I could have done. Sure, it was a small surgery that almost everyone has some point in their lives, but it was a big moment to me--and therefore it was a big moment to Jesus. He cared about my pain and how scared I actually was inside, but I put all my faith in him (and the dentist. Thank you, dentist, for knowing what you were doing).
After about 5 minutes of being injected by the needles, I could no longer feel my bottom lip and jaw. Do you know how fat your lip actually is? It's gross. And how much peach fuzz is actually on your chin? You don't realize how important your nerve-endings actually are until they're numb and completely useless. You can't even tell if you're drooling or bleeding to death or something.
So the rest of the procedure took maybe 20-30 minutes while I sat their with my eyes closed thinking about Jesus as the doctor yanked my jaw this way and that. And the next thing I knew, all four nasty little wisdom teeth were out (they are a whole lot bigger than you think. My mom called them icebergs, which definitely makes sense).
I think the point of sharing this story though is that I am certain I didn't feel half as much fear (and even pain) because I was thinking about Jesus, who is much bigger than four needles and an awkward dentist chair. I think if Christians applied this to similar situations, the world would see how much peace Jesus actually provides to us. All we have to do is have faith he's got in under control.
And peace makes for a fine, fine life.
And four less icebergs in your mouth, thank goodness.
