LEARNING FROM LIFE'S ROOT CANALS

Good morning, fellow Nudgees. Y'know, I suppose I could get away with a little whining here. After a lifetime of brushing, flossing, and faithfully enduring twice yearly dental check-ups, I still had to have a root canal last week, followed by the ritual crowning this past Monday. If you're a member of the r.c. club, you know it's an uncomfortable ordeal that rules out almonds and steak and lengthy phone conversations for longer than you want to live without them. Throw in an arthritic jaw and . . . let the whining begin.

    But with the last shot of Novocaine three days behind me, I've decided there's more "aha" in this experience than "wah-wah." Here's why . . .

    For several weeks before my dentist looked at my X-ray and said, "That's not what we wanted to see," I'd been stressing over having too much to do, much of it stuff that seemed pointless and which didn't leave me enough time to do what I thought could actually make a difference. I was making some progress in sorting that out (I'd stopped having a meltdown at 4 p.m. daily and growling back at the cat, etc.), but this morning as I was painlessly chewing the walnuts in my oatmeal, I had an epiphany:

        In spite of the Ultracet-induced naps and the eight o'clock bedtimes and only doing what I felt was really important before I broke out the ice pack again, (a) I feel better than I've felt in a long time; (b) some career decisions happily made themselves while I wasn't dissecting them; and (c) those things I didn't get done didn't really need to get done after all.

    Maybe I could have figured that out without the application of a dental drill, but God knows me better than that. This isn't the first time a physical set-back has nudged me to the conclusion I wasn't getting to on my own.

    At age 39, I broke my arm in a bicycle accident (I made a left turn into a very large car). When I came out of the anaesthesia, my husband was instructing the nurses in how to take care of me. A week before I'd asked him for a divorce. We are now about to celebrate our 39th anniversary.

    In my late 40's I developed TMJ issues that necessitated several surgeries. Each one involved having my jaw wired shut for six weeks at a time. I know, couldn't have happened to a gabbier gal, right? Yeah, well, I wouldn't trade what I learned about the beauty of listening for anything.

    Now, mind you, I don't look for opportunities to submit myself to the scalpel so I can learn life lessons. Fortunately God has other nudging techniques. Right now I'm just grateful for the epiphanies that  have arisen from limitation and pain. The first two have stayed with me. Why not this third one as well?

    I have been loving your responses to the last two Nudge posts -- you're so insightful and honest and inspiring (and sometimes downright convicting!) So please, feel free to chime in with accounts of the root canalesque learning experiences in YOUR life. 

Blessings (and Tylenol),

Nancy Rue 

BTW, In case we are not already connected on Facebook, there are two pages which could be of interest to you.  My page for adult readers can be LIKED here.  Should you have a teen in your home, or know of a teen who might want to engage with other teens, LIKE my page for teens here.