I tighten her expander for the very last time. “You ready to get this enforcer … enhancer … expander off?” I chuckle through a grin.
“You finally got it right, Mom. After all these weeks, you finally said it right.” She laughs with the tool still in her mouth.
For the last month, I’ve been teasing the precious thing about the horrible expander in her mouth. I never call it the right thing. Exterminator. Ex-anything. Whatever I can come up with on the spur of the moment. It’s all part of her braces plan, but I feel like I’m torturing her each time I make an adjustment. It breaks my heart to adjust it.
And it actually broke part of her mouth … in order to allow more space for her teeth. I don’t understand it all, I just know it was like a wishing bone … more force placed on it a little each day until it breaks. And when it broke, her face flushed, she could barely swallow, and her mouth went numb.
This morning …
“Mom, what time is it?” She reads to pass the time.
“What time do we leave?”
“9:20.” She’s ready to go. She’s ready to be relieved.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask.
“Are you ready to get that thing off?”
We arrive at the orthodontist. They take a good look at it.
“We are getting it off today, right?” I ask. So sure.
I sit stunned. “I’m sorry, Katelyn,” I blurt out. “I told her it would come off today,” I say to the technician.
“No, it needs to remain longer. If we took it off now, the teeth would revert back to their original locations, and all that movement, all that pain, would have been for nothing.” She pauses. “Don’t listen to Mom,” she teases.
After the technician walks out, I look at my oldest daughter—”Why did I think we were getting it off today?”
“When they said it wouldn’t need more adjusting, we just assumed …” We assumed.
Until our faces flush, until we can barely swallow, until we feel numb.
It’ll feel like torture.
We assume that life will go right back to normal. We’ll get that expander off, and we’ll go right back to normal. Come on, normal.
The pain reforms and reshapes … until we break.
Because we need more room for growth. New growth.
Because we need to be formed and shaped like Jesus.
Because we won’t love Him like we should, like we could, until we need His healing, His revealing, His concealing tenderness for the broken. Thank you, Father, that my broken heart is all your own.
Because we need to beautifully get it straight.
Because it’s in the straightening that we …
“enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise.”—Psalm 100
6 thoughts on “Straightening”
Wow. What a thought-provoking post. I love how you use your daughter's situation to show a beautiful though difficult truth. I need to be straightened. 🙂
Hope your daughter is feeling better!
Aw, thank you, Courtney! She was a little disappointed that the expander didn't come off, but she's thankful we aren't having to tighten it anymore! 🙂 Blessed by you!
Love, love, love how you brought this together, Shelli. Such powerful writing. And I always adore your black and whites. just like Courtney Phillips said, “though-provoking.” xoxo
Shelli, I like how deep you take us into the heart of what matters. You are an encouragement to me in this journey with God.
Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
Thank you, Julie. I've always loved black and white photos.
Wendy, thank you. You are such an encouragement to me on this journey, as well.
Blessings in return ~ Shelli