Trips to the Dentist.

Drilling. Gnawing. Gnashing. Those are the sounds that make going to the dentist, for me, so wretchedly horrible. Lately, it seems, I've had a lot of agonizing trips there- mostly, metaphorically speaking. During Spring Break I went to my dentist in Kansas City for a routine check-up. Flossing was the foremost concern of the hygienist. Apparently, I flippantly floss because it feels better, but I don't reach into the tiny cracks and crevices between the tooth and the gum because it's harder to do. Plaque starts to build up and we all know that's never good. It could lead to root canals or gingivitis.

In the same way, spiritually we all have to go to the Dentist. Otherwise, the plaque would just sit and wrought our teeth and gums away. Lately I have been reminded of the sin that lingers, sin that piles up and I don't know what to do with. Despite my groaning and complaining God has been cleaning my "spiritual" teeth. The longer the plaque sits there, the harder it is to get rid of. Life is too short to not keep short accounts with God and man. It's been so hard, mostly because of my prideful self, but it has been good to get rid of the sin that has to be grinded out.

The world tells us to feel good about ourselves. We are all great flossers (even though we know we aren't). God does not tolerate sin. He hates it. Even though we may have been Christians for ten or twenty years, he hates the sin the same. Christ demands purity from us. In order to take the next step up with God, I have to be a better flosser.