So here I am on Tuesday evening, settled onto the couch, my darling Poppet beside me, a comfy throw over my legs, and my laptop where it is supposed to be … on my lap.
The dentist appointment was not nearly as bad as I’d feared. On Christmas Eve I noticed that my gums under my permanent bridge felt "strange." Not really painful, just odd. So the next Monday I called to make a dentist appointment. Couldn’t get in until after the New Year. By then I was sick, and I had to postpone the appointment twice. That gave me plenty of time to imagine the worst. It wasn’t. It was a tiny root fragment, coming through the gum. A quick shot of Novocaine, a little cut, and it was over. Then, because they had a cancellation, I found out they could do my cleaning right then so I wouldn’t have to make another appointment. How great was that?
I drove out of the parking lot, praising God for answering my non-verbalized prayer that it wouldn’t be something serious, something expensive. I’m even thankful now that the numbing has worn off and the gum’s a bit tender where the dentist cut it.
Confession: I am one of a handful of people in America who had never seen an episode of American Idol. (I was a fairly faithful viewer of Star Search when it was on.) So tonight, I decided to give it a try. After all, they are showing a bunch of the "worst of" contestants tonight as they kick off the new season. I didn’t want to miss that, right?
Oh, my. Sometimes this is just plain painful to watch. I have the heart of a great singer. If I could have requested a great voice, I sure would have. I love music. I love being around singers. I love to sing myself. But for pity sake, I recognize my limits. I can carry a tune, but I carry it better (1) in the shower, (2) in my room with the stereo cranked high, (3) in my car in heavy traffic, and (4) when surrounded by people with beautiful voices during worship in church.
Good thing God called me to write, huh?