Originally posted March 23, 2012
It’s the drill, the sound if it screeching unnaturally close to your face.
There’s the tooth-shaped clock on the wall and the charts portraying healthy and not-so-healthy gums hanging here and there.
It’s the dentist’s office and I don’t love the place, but I had to be there for a filling—easy and routine, my dentist tells me. He asks me how I’m doing today. “Nervous,” I confess with a conversational giggle.
Still, I like him. He’s pleasant and efficient. His degrees and certifications adorn the walls, assuring me that he knows what to do. He’s the kind of doctor I prefer, one who explains to you what’s going on and assumes you’re intelligent enough to understand.
So, he glances at my chart and sees the note written in large letters, “Needs extra anesthetic.”
He asks me about it and I tell him the gruesome story of another dentist starting to drill and me feeling it. I tried to fake it and pretend like I was numb just for the sake of expediency, but my flinches and the pain in my eyes apparently gave me away.
When you’re numb, you ironically can’t help but feel it. You feel that your face is heavy and your speech difficult. They ask you to rinse and it takes effort.
It’s a simple filling and yet here I sit at my computer five hours later, feeling the last remaining bit of numbness around my mouth. I’m a poster child for the old Bill Cosby standup routine about a dental patient.
Numbness takes time to fade, but thankfully it eventually does. Truly, I’m grateful for the fact that two shots of medicine helped me not to feel the dentist’s drill. It’s a comfort of the modern age that I’m happy to enjoy.
Yet, as I sit in the chair waiting for the drilling to start, I wonder if I’ve grown too numb in other areas of my life. And sadly, the numbness of our hearts and minds doesn’t fade away as assuredly as a dentist’s shot.
Hillsong sings in their song Hosanna:
Break my heart for what breaks Yours
Everything I am for Your Kingdom’s cause
As I walk from earth into
So I wonder…is my heart too numb? Has it become an unfeeling organ? Or, am I only slightly bruised occasionally, crying for a moment and then resuming life as normal, patching up momentary sorrow with practicalities and emotional distance?
What actually breaks the heart of God anyway?
Surely it’s our sin, our breaking faith with God and causing Him disappointment and sadness (Numbers 5:6, Hosea 11:8b).
Yes, David’s heart broke after his devastating sin of adultery and murder, and he desired restoration and forgiveness (Psalm 51).
Are you grieved over your sin and the times you’ve broken faith with God? Do you shake it off with excuses and acceptance, compromising because it’s “normal” and just “who you are?” Or do you humbly bow at His feet and ask for His help and His forgiveness? Do you hate your sin enough to do whatever it takes to change?
Surely the lost break God’s heart, the “sheep not having a shepherd,” who stirred Jesus’ heart to compassion and self-sacrifice (Mark 6:34).
Are you broken-hearted over those who do not know Jesus and moved to compassion and boldness by their presence in the world and in your community?
But it’s also the hurting and needy. When Israel complained that God wasn’t overly impressed by their fasting rituals and legalistic religiosity, God told them exactly what kind of fasting He desired: freeing the oppressed, sharing bread with the hungry, caring for the homeless (Isaiah 58:6-7).
James agreed when he wrote, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:27, ESV).
Is your heart broken by the orphaned, the widowed, the hungry, and the oppressed? Do you do more than shed a tear at an Internet video and actually advocate for those who need a voice?
We have a God whose heart is broken over sin, over unbelief, over the hurting, oppressed, defenseless and hungry.
What about our hearts?
It’s a strange thing, this spiritual numbness. While a shot at the dentist’s office fades over time, our hearts respond in opposite ways to hurt. We may begin compassionate and then grow numb from forgetfulness. We may grieve over sin at first and then slowly grow accustomed to it.
Instead of needing extra doses of anesthetic, we must go to God continually and ask for more of His broken heart.
To listen to Hillsong’s Hosanna, you can click the link here or watch the video posted below on the blog:
Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her upcoming book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, will be released in the Fall of 2013! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.
Copyright © 2013 Heather King