Is the Gospel Too Complicated? Simplifying Faith from the Dentist’s Chair

Welcome back! I trust ya’ll excepted my little break for family day weekend… and digging out from all this snow we’ve been having! I was a little neglectful in writing, but we’re back with another muse or two for you this week. It’s finally getting warmer here and the chickens have started to venture out again: hurray! I also started some seeds indoors… so spring must be coming. Here’s hoping!

Yet for now, the snow is still piled up on the ground and we are still doing indoor things… most recently visiting the dentist for the first time since moving here. I know – the dentist isn’t first on my list of cozy things to do on a winter’s day, either… but it’s gotta be done and so we went. And, of course, I had a cavity or two that needed to be filled. And so a second visit (and likely a third) will be warranted.

Which is where my muse for this week comes from. There I was, sitting in the dentist chair with my mouth gaped open, my head back upon the headrest, blankly flipping my views from the ceiling tile to the masked Doctor’s blinding headlamp to the hygienist’s most perfectly tailored eyebrows, thinking to myself: “How on earth do I know that what these people are doing in my mouth, to my body, is necessary or needed?” (As I said, it’s a new dentist office for me, and they didn’t seem to be very forthcoming with explanations…)

Now, don’t come at me, I went to the dentist, after all. I was sitting there in their chair, allowing whatever chaos was happening in my mouth to occur. I got poked and prodded by the metal scrap-ey things and glowed and cured under the light that the doctor’s hide from but don’t protect you from. I listened to the conversation from the experts on yes, ring 3 clamp and this number 3 tooth or whatever…. but again, it was a language I didn’t really understand. I have no expertise in dental care. And so I simply went along with whatever they suggested and kept my mouth – open – in this case.

Which had me thinking about a few things. Number one: How do we feel about being left in the dark about things? No one but God knows our futures. Are we okay with that? Do we speak up, inquire, advocate for the unknown? Or do we trust that whatever God has planned for us is for the best and we should just book the appointment and sit in the chair? As per usual, I don’t have the answer, I am simply pondering my thoughts. For me, I have been assured through past experiences that God’s got whatever may be ailing me, and so, I am pretty confident trusting that He’ll pull me through whatever lies ahead. For others, it may be a little harder. Either way, it doesn’t hurt to inquire and ask questions to help us decipher His plan for our lives. The Bible, prayer and discussion with believers help. Mittonmusings has chatted about these things before, and likely will muse about them in the future. Still, it was a contemplative thought as I sat there gagged by the crazy spit suctioning thing those dentists flash at you.

My number two thought, as I counted dots in ceiling tiles, was do we “talk over” people? The doctor and assistant chit-chatted about their work – and there I was sitting, listening, having no clue as to their goings on. Like the mechanic saying it was a “thingamabob” attached to the “whatchamacallit” making a noise from the “fenderbenderwhosit”. I have no idea… just make the car run again and don’t charge me a crazy amount to do it! Do you and I talk in riddles and parables? We use words like “sanctified” “righteousness” and even things like “worship” and holy “thees” and “thous”. Have you ever caught yourself speaking a whole new language when it comes to “spiritual things”? Can we make following Jesus more “user friendly”? Should we? Are there traditions that we hold dear just for the sake of tradition? Is it hindering someone else from drawing closer to God and His will? I’m guilty as charged. Try teaching kids about Bible stories… they’ll tell you what they think they know because someone told them once using big words. “Hark the Harold Angel sing”: who’s Harold and why is he singing? They’ll say.

The ornate altar of Santa Prisca and San Sebastián in Taxco, Guerrero, Mexico… Have we made the Gospel too complicated?!

Words are hard. Unknown futures can be harder. I think our job, therefore, is to listen and trust and communicate wisely and simply. The gospel isn’t hard… but we make it that way. We add in man-made rules, and traditions, and words, and pie-in-the-sky quotes that don’t make sense or are difficult to follow through. The truth is God loves you, I need to love you, and that’s all there is. The rest we’ll work out later. As for me, I gotta go brush my teeth and make another appointment for a chair and another look at some well groomed eye-brows! Happy musing, my beloveds!

Why We Need to Count: Exploring Numbers in Faith and Life

According to the initial counts, 113.06 million people watched the Super Bowl game this week. That’s a lot of people. Our family was among them. Well… the television was on at least. It is estimated that 500 people are killed by hippos each year. It’s an estimated number because nobody wants to be picking fights with hippos. The number of chickens in the world has more than doubled since 1990. I’m not surprised. Chickens are great. Statistics. The numbers are everywhere… for every thing. A quick Google search can find you the numbers for just about anything you want to know about. I wonder who counts. We have a friend who’s job it is to present sport’s stats to the television hosts. Where do his numbers come from? Is there some kid out on the field who has a marker and a whiteboard and tally marks every play? Or who counts every malaria carrying mosquito out in the jungle? How on earth? It’s where my brain is going this week… who ? Why? Why do we need to know?

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

Markets rise and fall. Corporations have departments full of bean counters just to tell them how their businesses are doing. It seems like everyone needs to know “the numbers” these days. And if the numbers don’t add up? We change, we brainstorm for better programs, better means to an end, better “stats”. We all like to see the numbers add up to our efforts. Unfortunately… churches do the same. And I am not sure it is all good. Now, I appreciate numbers. I understand the reasoning behind gathering statistics… why put effort into something if you get poor results? My scientific brain (and my lazy work ethic and pessimistic outlook) says why work harder than you need to for little or no result? Yet, I can’t help but wonder…. is it right?

Ethically, I suppose there is nothing morally wrong with working towards a program (at church or otherwise) that only generates positive results. Why else would there be marketers who study these things? Is it for dollar signs only? Do churches have a saved soul account? I just found out my favourite farm store is going out of business. A numbers game has forced them to declare bankruptcy. Online shopping strikes again. I’m showing my age here, but what about the little guy who works behind the counter? Yeah, I still go to the check out lady. People over points. I think each person is important to God. He loves us all : uniquely.

Still, I recently read an article that said God does, in fact, care about numbers. Why else would He give the Great commission? “Go into All the world”… we are to tell anyone and everyone. I get that. There are an elect few that will choose the narrow way… but that part is not our job. Our job is to tell our story. On the other hand, the Bible talks about how the shepherd leaves behind the 99 sheep in search for the one (single) sheep who has gone astray. I guess you could say numbers count… but God sees the numbers in individual people. Does that make sense?

Perhaps that doesn’t make sense. Perhaps, the numbers don’t add up, shall we say. Does God care about quality of life? Or quantity? I don’t have an answer. I now have more questions than when I started this post. And I am more confused by my own questions. Good grief! I suppose that’s how it goes sometimes in our spiritual journeys. Sometimes there are more questions than answers. And that’s okay. I’m sure there are statistics about that, too.

I guess the point is this: the Super Bowl is going to get played. People are going to watch. Others are not going to care about anything besides the half time show. Others will care about the coin toss or the colour of Gatorade. The players on their teams are simply going to do the best job they can at playing the game hard to win points. That’s all we can ask of ourselves. Do what you can. Share your story. Help others share their story. Support the community who is trying to serve. Play the game. Let the angel with the whiteboard and tally marks take care of the numbers. I’m pretty sure we can check the score boards later.

Back to Blogging: Embracing Imperfection and New Beginnings

Oh my dear readers! How crazy was my holiday?! Did you even notice that I took a two week hiatus and didn’t write anything? Did you even notice that I missed the last week of Advent, didn’t chat about the Love Candle or greet you for Christmas or New Year’s Eve? Not even a social media “hello”. I am a bad, bad blogger. The algorithms have all gone awry. I thought about a “word of the year” but never truly came up with one yet. I have no excuses.

And so we come back to another year flipped on the calendar. Time passes whether I write or not. Honestly, who really cares about our little life here anyway? Okay, Okay, I am hoping someone does. Or at least this little exercise is in my own best interest to “journal” and think and muse and use as my own creative outlet for some sort of ordering space in my own chaotic brain. If you’re reading this, then, congratulations! You get to come along for the ride as I purge my thoughts for my own mental health. Again, I have no excuses.

The weeks went by in a blur. Grand baby was born. Work. Holidays in the middle of an already hectic week. Travelling. Farm chores. Baby kisses and shoveling chicken poop. How exciting a life I lead. What’s the point? Why write anything here in my little corner of the internet? I’m thinking back to my very first blog posts about niches and why I started mittonmusings in the first place. To learn. To try. It didn’t matter that I didn’t fit in to the typical blogger mode. I am terrible at getting a good photo. I’m not the one snapping selfies in the bathrooms or videoing in the thrift stores. I don’t make good “art” documentaries or farm instructional videos. I’ve never written a book. I don’t even have Tiktok. I can use a filter, but I still need help editing a reel. I am very, very far from perfect.

Sigh. Maybe that’s the point. In this fast paced world of A.I. technology and rapidly changing fads, my {cough} fifty {cough} something person is on the way back down the hill. I am beginning to see the dark side of the mountain and watching the next generation climb to great heights on the other side. My babies are having babies. We are starting to look at retirement funds. I know, age is just a number, and if you’ve been here any length of time, you will know that I am a firm believer in the “never stop learning” motto. An old dog CAN learn new tricks. God never told us we get to retire from life. Jesus had a plan and left a legacy. He made a path for those coming behind to follow. Perhaps it is the same for us in 2025.

I’m a bit sad that I didn’t have the time to sit down over the holidays and reflect properly. I’m a bit disappointed that we didn’t (okay at least I didn’t) have a whole lot of time to “chill” and look introspectively on the past year and the one to come. I should have. The youngest asked if I had a resolution. I don’t. I have a few goals set in mind, but have I come up with a true, real focus for the year, as I have had in the past? No, not yet. My mind is already racing forward to the 17 things that need to get done in the next few days. My new work schedule requires some getting used to, and we are once again, balancing home and the rest of life. Oh no, my friend, time stands still for no one. Every day is a marching on to the next day.

Perhaps that’s what time is teaching me. Perhaps that’s what God wants me to learn. Patience. A life journey is a march onward. Up (and down) the hill. Things gotta get done. Bills get paid, the dishes get done, the babies grow up, and the dog still gets fed. This is where I am. And it is okay.

Come join me on this adventure! (Photo: Pexels)

Welcome to the blog, dear reader. Welcome to the chaos, the times I go AWOL for no apparent reason other than “I didn’t get to it”. Welcome to the journey. I guarantee that we will learn together. We’ll think and muse and become the master of nothing. It’ll be fun. We’ll question verses and try to apply them to life. There will be bad photos, my crazy chicken stories and lots of grand baby gushing. The hubby will likely be the focus of some #itsnottafarm project and will be there for a few laughs, I am sure. HAPPY 2025!

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