Hold me closer

Em September 8th, 2008

I know that brushing and flossing prevent plaque, tartar buildup, and cavities. I’m not entirely sure what tartar is, but I know cavities. I have had twenty-three cavities filled, and if I have anything to do with it I will not have another one.

And so tonight, I brush and floss. But not because it will prevent cavities. Tonight, I brush and floss my teeth because I know that it will prevent cavities. I know it. It is one thing, and perhaps the only thing, that I know.

I look in the mirror at the red aura around my eyes as I pluck plaque from between my teeth. Ben Folds sings Elton John from my computer:

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad*

I don’t know that I have faith in the truth. Can I ever know? Believing in what we hope for, and trusting in what we cannot see. Oh, but I would never believe if I didn’t believe it was true. How ridiculous would that be?

I can’t handle it. My toothbrush now in my mouth, I lean on the counter for support as I wince out a sob.

But I have no choice. I must believe; I’ve tasted moments without God, and they are desperate and despondent times. I simply cannot let go. To that I cling, while waves of doubt rage around me, loosening my grip and whitening my knuckles.

Others seem to have such an easy time of it. Faith is never a question to them, but an answer that brings hope, joy, and love! Faith is not my hope, but my burden. It rips into my unceasing rationality, refusing all explanation.

But I do not assume rationality to be the highest epistemology. It is one of many, useful only when it is useful and useless when it is not. It is so very easy; if not simple, everything is plain, and doubt is only a step in the process.

But not everything is plain. Some things are shrouded in impenetrable mystery.

And so I shoulder my faith, struggling underneath it. The God in whom I have faith gives me hope, and no matter what I do I cannot leave him. Perhaps Christian principles have been so deeply engrained in my soul that I cannot imagine life without them. Perhaps I cannot live without this hope. Perhaps he loves me too much.

I finish brushing my teeth and brush the tears from my cheeks. What to do now?

What, indeed?

*”Tiny Dancer,” Elton John

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