Lesson In The Dentist's Chair

Everyday life has its ups and downs and twists and turns, and sometimes extraordinary things happen when we least expect them.  The following is an example of this very kind of thing, taken out of the pages of my ordinary world...  Enjoy!

Lesson in the Dentist’s Chair

© Chris Schneider

It was a recent Monday morning when I reluctantly made my way to the dentist’s office for a routine cleaning. I knew I needed to go even though I had that lingering sense of dread which wouldn’t leave my thoughts.  Been there and done that, I told myself, but now it was time to do it all over again.  Oh well, I knew the drill.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love my dentist.  He is one of those rare individuals you meet every once in a great while whose enthusiasm level is off the charts.  To be around him is to see life differently.  His staff is pretty much the same way. 

Anyway, there I was, settled into one of those long dental patient chairs with a little napkin draped around my neck, gazing out the window at the woods on the other side of the glass.  That’s when Kelly, my kind and observant dental hygienist, started up her prep for my appointment.  So far, so good, I reassured myself.

And so the cleaning began.  Kelly placed her fine instruments into my mouth and right away asked me a question. “How is the job going?” she inquired. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself.  “How do I answer her without sounding like I speak in a garbled foreign language?”

In that moment, Kelly’s instruments took a brief rest.  Quickly, so as not to interfere with the task at hand, I explained to her how I had taken an interim job caring for and tutoring two boys in my neighborhood, ages 8 and 11.  The job had been a great fit for everyone and I had enjoyed the boys immensely over the past several months.  I also shared the fact that the family would be moving soon, as had been expected, and I would be right back to looking for a more permanent professional position.  She sensed my anxiety.

Kelly’s instruments started back up again. I sat silently - her captive of sorts - and waited for her response.  “Well,” she said matter of factly, “God provided this job for you and He will most certainly provide another.”  Her words were firm, careful, and she was so full of faith. I was speechless, unable to utter a word even if I had wanted to.

The hour passed by harmlessly enough.  Scrape, scrape.  Polish, polish. And then the appointment was over. Happily, my teeth looked good and I felt great, relieved that once again I had managed to get through my session so well.

When I left, I climbed into my car and secured the seatbelt. Soon, my thoughts returned to the events of the previous hour.  What had happened in that appointment was certainly more than I had expected. Was there a lesson here I was supposed to be learning, albeit an unexpected one?  I thought so.

  

It was noteworthy, I told myself, that the minute I had stopped talking, God had found a way to speak up, openly conveying to me His thoughts through a wise and attentive lady – my dental hygienist. Yes, my interim job would be ending soon.  He knew that.  And the fact that I was concerned about what would be in store for me was also something He knew.  The bottom line was He understood my concerns for the future long before I ever had a chance to chat with Kelly.

I smiled as new awareness began to slowly wash over me.  God had been subtle alright, yet unmistakable in arranging for me to be in a dentist’s chair that day – forced silent for a short while – just long enough to let me know He was in control of my next career move.

“God will provide,” Kelly had reassured me.  Her words were emphatic, yet gentle. They were words He wanted me to hear.

God had spoken when I could not, right there in a simple dentist’s chair. Only He could have managed to pull off putting a fresh smile on my face while at the very same time filling my heart with renewed hope for the future. 

I’m so glad He and I made that appointment.

  

“Be still and know that I am God.”  Psalm 46:10  

                       

Lizards, Dogs, Pianos and Books - And Other 2011 Thanksgiving Blessings

With Thanksgiving just a day away, I hope you'll be able to find a few quiet moments to sit down and enjoy this  - maybe with a dessert plate in your lap or a nice cup of coffee or tea in your hand.  I am grateful for YOU!

“Lizards, Dogs, Pianos and Books - and Other 2011 Thanksgiving Blessings”

© By Chris Schneider

There are so many reasons to be thankful this year, despite my job loss at Easter time.  Some of these come to my mind just now and push to be acknowledged, sort of an “I want to be first in line” kind of deal.  No bullying here, I tell my head, just the sharing of what I’m grateful for in no particular order.  Here goes…

I am thankful for a little eight year old boy, Nate, who I watch several days a week.   He is an all-boy type of kid who every day puts on his military camouflage Halloween costume and walks over to my house with bug catching equipment in hand as he systematically and singlehandedly purges my yard of lizards.  (Do you need this done?  I’ll get you his business card.) Later, at dinnertime, he prepares us both a special drink of berry punch, organic milk, and a lime wedge placed on the edge of a dolphin stemmed goblet with sugar coating around the rim of the glass.  He is a unique, always fascinating child, to say the least.

Speaking of unique children, there is Nate’s big brother A.J., 11, a diehard animal lover who regularly looks forward to the task of making my dog, Daisy, and his dog, Rooney, best friends.  To this task he is deeply committed.  And it’s happening.  My dog is a mix of Corgi, Bassett Hound and Yellow Lab. Odd, I know.  His, on the other hand, is a pure bred Chocolate Lab.  They are as different as night and day, but they are a sight to see when Rooney puts on a show for Daisy. She is charmed by his funny antics too.  A.J. is a dog whisperer alright, and he is also quite the editor when writing and perfecting his fifth grade school essays.

My Thanksgiving list keeps growing as the minutes pass.  There is Caroline, my young adult daughter, who teaches piano to a legion of kids.  They get stickers at each lesson, and they also get a great teacher who is patient, enthusiastic, loving, and professionally trained.  She has a knack for bringing out the best in anyone she is guiding.  Her recitals are fantastic and largely free of pressure because her students know they are undergirded by an affirming person who wants them to learn and still love what they are doing at all times.

Then there is Melissa, my other young adult daughter, who makes her way to the Winter Park Towers every other week as the Winter Park Public Library’s special ambassador. Her assignment there is to bring carefully selected books to homebound library patrons.  On those days, she is the much looked forward to young woman of the hour.  Each of her elderly patrons receives books which are chosen just for them, along with a special visit from my daughter. They are blessed and so is she.  Later, Melissa always has wonderful tales to share about “her people.”

And there is that husband of mine.  I am thankful for this man who works tirelessly - not only at work but at home.  He is focused and fearless and always about the business of making things better.  “Bored” is never part of his vocabulary.  He is fascinating all the time.

Speaking of special people, in early November, renowned author and historian David McCullough came to town and spoke at Rollins College Knowles Chapel on a Friday evening.  The author, now in his 70s, was animated and still quite vigorous, sharing his thoughts on a wide array of topics.  One thing he recalled with special joy was having meals as a boy with his parents and grandmother, who lived with the family. During those intimate meals, he soaked up the wisdom of his elders which created a solid foundation of knowledge and inquiry for a boy who would later become America’s foremost author of American history.   “We need to have dinner conversation,” he emphasized to his captivated audience.  Then quietly, but still with great conviction, he added, “We need to have dinner.”  Good advice for all of us caught up in 2011 fast lane living.

Yes, Thanksgiving makes me grateful.  I appreciate the growing list of people I am having the privilege of meeting as I seek a new position.  I love the fact that I am actually growing and in the very midst of growth.  Now is a time of deepening - not only in my core talents, but also as I open myself to change and new direction.  I believe God has a plan, and I’m attentively watching for His signs and leading, grateful to be on the road He has mapped out for me.

I still love the beauty of a fall leaf, the hug of my neighbors’ children, the hilarity of my dog’s joy every time she goes for a walk or a car ride, the color of an autumn sunset, and the beauty of listening to a friend or new acquaintance.  I love the fact that the God on high is also right beside you and me every single day. And finally, how grateful I am to be living in a country that fought hard to give us the freedom we enjoy at this moment.  God bless America.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!