where waves grow sweet

For most of my 49 years on this earth, I have had teeth. And for most of my time with those teeth, dentists have been trying to get me to floss them. Despite being repeatedly informed of its value and having issues like receding gums that could benefit from the practice, flossing has always felt like a burden I had no interest in taking on. And then my beloved dentist of a decade stopped accepting my insurance.

My first appointment with my new dentist went surprisingly well. The office was bright and clean, the staff warm and efficient. My teeth were cleaned by the hygienist, Jessica, who was thorough, gentle, had a wonderfully dry sense of humor and shared dental information I actually found useful. Dare I say I actually enjoyed myself? When she asked about flossing, I mumbled as best as I could (through the hands and dental tools in my mouth) that I am a terrible, no good, very bad flosser. By that, I meant it is something that happens twice a year – at my cleanings. She said that no one does it perfectly, not even people who work in a dentist’s office. The place to start, she continued, is not thinking you have to do it every day. “Let’s just aim for a little bit more than you’re doing now and go from there.”

I’d never heard it presented like that. It sounded so darn doable; not like a burdensome obligation but like an invitation I couldn’t help but accept. I mean, if I flossed one single time before my next visit, I’d have succeeded in reaching this goal. So do you know what I did? I came home, pulled out the bag of floss picks that have been sitting beneath my sink since the beginning of time and get this, I flossed. It was fantastic. I mean, earnestly enjoyable. I put the rest of the floss in a jar on my bathroom counter and then I googled how often I can floss because why wouldn’t I want to do this multiple times a day?

I then grabbed another jar of floss, stuck it in Chase’s bathroom and rather excitedly showed him how to do it. The following night, he must have been flossing on his own without being reminded because he came out with a floss pick in one hand and a molar in the other (apparently it not only cleaned in between his teeth but helped dislodge a baby tooth). Clearly, it didn’t feel like a burden to him either – and even resulted in a couple bucks from the tooth fairy.

I’m sure this is such a riveting story that your mind is blown, but wait, there’s more. I recently started a Bible study on the book of Romans in which Paul talks a lot about the law. The law was technically a good thing; a set of rules that showed God’s people what was right and would be good for them. Kind of like flossing, but a bit more comprehensive. The problem was that no one could follow the law perfectly  – not even the religious professionals – so it constantly pointed to their failures, making it a burdensome obligation.

God was no fool. He knew His people couldn’t do it; not even the “best” of them with their noblest intentions and unceasing efforts. At the same time, He was no liar. He couldn’t say sin was good when it wasn’t. He knew the consequences they would suffer by disregarding the law. It was quite a quandary, but not really since God had a plan all along to remove the obligation they had to fulfill the law and put it on Jesus, the only sinless man who was qualified to pay the price for sin. That price of course was death and the proof of His payment was in the resurrection. 

It was kind of like insurance being canceled on our relationship with the law. That might be sad for some people because sometimes rules make us feel safe and we can pat ourselves on the back for the parts we do well. But they can never transform us from the inside out into the people we truly want to be or bring the joy we were meant to have. So this whole changeup is a blessing that sends us to the place that accepts the payment Jesus made. It not only covers every single one of our sins, big and small, for now and forever, for whoever will receive it, but actually imparts righteousness to us in the exchange. That place is called grace.

Instead of constantly pointing to our failures and piling obligations upon us, grace is like this generous, unearned invitation to enter in exactly where we’re at with whatever measure we’re able…. joyfully, because the whole burden of performance is gone. This beautiful gospel lightens our load as we set aside our failures and grab hold of God’s living, beating heart for us and all His people. Oh sure, we will be tempted to live by the law and try to measure up again (if we feel burdened, this is probably why), but once we’ve tasted grace, we can’t help but run home and live in it and bathe it and dance with it and share it. And maybe even floss with it 🙂