I'm In Good Hands

Last week I told you of a possible root canal.  It included my graphic exaggeration of what I expected that surgery to include.

It turns out my doctor (who said I might have shingles) and my dentist (who said I might need a root canal) were both wrong.

I called my neurologist and talked with him a few minutes and he said, "I know exactly what's going on.  You have trigeminal neuralgia."

I said, "a what?"

One of the cranial nerves has lesions on it that cause a "very interesting" pain in my cheek.  I am now on the right direction for treatment and am doing fine.

But, here's the sermonic application - I wonder how many times I misdiagnose stuff that's going on in my spirit.  I almost took steroids that wouldn't help or had a root canal that I didn't need.  How many times do I take steps to ease a pain in my soul and I'm not treating the real cause of the problem?

Avoiding people, but not dealing with anger.

Changing my environment, but not dealing with my own sin.

Blaming others for crippling fear.

Puffing myself up to hide what's not really hidden.

Jeremiah recorded these words, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.  Who can understand it (17.9)?"

The next verse answers the question, God.

I misdiagnose me all the time.  Then I find my way to God who reminds me, "I know exactly what's going on.  That's not what you need, this is what will ease the pain."

You would think that with the amount of time that I spend with my soul that I would be the most qualified to diagnose problems.  It turns out that I am the least qualified.  The Creator of my soul is much more knowledgeable on soul health than I am.

He knows that someone else can't see the real problem, and I can't be honest enough to get to the issues.  The Great Physician knows what's wrong and knows how to fix it.

I trust my neurologist to help me with M.S. symptoms.

I trust my Lord God to help me with what lasts forever.

I'm In Good Hands,

Pastor Dave

 

In the Chair

My dentist told me there's a root canal in my future.  I disagreed with her, "No, there's not."  She smiled, "Yes, there is."  I said, "No, there's not."  She said, "Yes, there is."  She's not a good listener.

I had pictures in my mind of the procedure that went like this-
The sweet lady takes a pair of vise-grips and sterilizes them in gasoline.  Then she clamps on any random tooth, rips it out, and soaks it in rubbing alcohol.  While my tooth is soaking she takes her DeWalt drill with the 1/2inch bit and drills a hole where the tooth was and fills the hole with a really expensive epoxy.  She then pounds the tooth back in place with a rubber mallet and I gargle with Lysol.

That's a root canal in my mind.  "Thanks, I'm busy that day.  And that one.  And that one too.  How's February 35th, 2087 look for you?"

I put off what I don't want to experience.  Even if it's needed.

Have you ever done that with God?  Me too.

Have you ever wrongly assumed what God is going to do?  Me too.

Have you ever let your imagination lie to you about God?  Me too.

God's fix for what is dangerous in my soul has nothing to do with vise-grips or Lysol.  But, He is very interested in removing poison.  In fact, he's passionate about it.  He knows the damage that it can cause.  Grace works better than rubbing alcohol and the death/resurrection of Christ is more effective than a DeWalt drill.

Surrender is not as bad as I think it is.  Hidden sin is worse than I know.  I've got an appointment for right now.

In the chair,

Pastor Dave