I heard the little crunch as I chewed my food in the lovely little restaurant.  I felt it too, right between my teeth.

But I was eating pasta.  There wasn’t supposed to be a crunch.  Not even if it was, indeed, al dente.  My tongue snaked over to the tooth I suspected of being the culprit.

Ow! 

That was sharp!  As the dental specialist had warned me, the filling he put in last week was only temporary.  I just expected it to be a bit less temporary than that.

I called the emergency number for the clinic.  It’s possible I shouldn’t have started the message I left them with the words, “I’m not sure you could call this an emergency…”

Twenty-four hours went by before they returned my call.  It’s not an emergency.  It must not be.  The kind young lady told me it wasn’t.

I’ll be just fine.  But the 24 hours gave me time to think.

In that 24-hour interlude, my mind went back 40 years.  Really.  I saw it the first time I walked into his instrument repair shop.  The sign over Bill’s workbench left no room for argument.

“Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”

It only stands to reason.  I was in the music business for over 40 years myself.  I saw it again and again.  Customers would wait until the day before a performance or playing test, and decide to bring in their instrument to be repaired.  An emergency.

I never had a sign to which I could point.  On several occasions, I wished I had.

It was their own doing.  No one would have faulted me for putting up the sign.

But, back to the present, I called the emergency phone number.  On a holiday weekend, I expected the unseen folks on the other end of the line to consider it an emergency for themselves.

They don’t.

My brain has been worrying at a question for longer than the 24 hours of waiting; really for over a week.  Like a Labrador puppy with an old bone, I’ve been chewing at the puzzle.

I sat with my esteemed coffee group one day a week ago, and I put the problem to their collective wisdom.  They each, after all, possess a college degree which grants them the privilege of being addressed as doctor by their students and peers. (My old friend reminds me that none of them is the kind of doctor who can do you any good, but still…)

I had told them previously of my experience with the lady who had a flat tire and had no one to drive her to work. One of them, in passing, had wondered about helping folks who are experiencing trouble because of their own neglect or bad choices.

On that day, we had talked at length about our responsibilities and what real help entailed.  The discussion ranged from neighbors who shirk their duty of upkeep for their homes to the folks standing on the street corners with begging signs that invoke God’s blessing on those who help.

We came to no firm conclusion, but simply tossed around opinions until it seemed prudent to move to other matters.

I might have forgotten the conversation, but it was just the next morning when I found myself stranded in a nearby town, with a non-functioning auto myself.

It’s hard to admit this.  My car stopped working because I did something stupid.  The computer failed because I hadn’t read the owner’s manual.

Can I say this?  At that moment, sitting in a parking lot thirty miles from home and without any evident resources to arrive home in a timely manner, I wasn’t thinking about whether it was my fault or not.

I needed to be rescued. 

I was desperate to be rescued.  And, someone did.

They never once reminded me that it was my own fault I was in that predicament.  Not once.  Even though I deserved it.

Kindness and grace. 

Where I had earned desertion and judgment.

Mercy is a spectacular thing.

Spectacular.

Somehow, I’m not sure I need write many more lines here.

My young friend, who, each day, posts the words we call the Lord’s Prayer, already has the only conclusion needed for this little essay.  Simple words we speak so glibly.

“And, forgive us our transgressions, as we forgive those who transgress against us.”

Hmmm.  Perhaps, I’ve gotten ahead of myself.  Maybe it needs to be a bit more basic.

“So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.”  (John 13:34, NLT)

While we were still without excuse, by our own deeds excluded, He died for us.  Where we could have had no expectation of kindness or mercy, that’s exactly what He showered on us.

And, He commands us—yes, commands—to treat each other as He has treated us.

Grace.  Not just amazing, but astonishing grace!

I’m not done chewing on it yet.  I may never be.

Maybe you can help. 

There’s plenty here for all of us.

But, be careful with the dental work, won’t you?

 

“Teach me to feel another’s woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me.” (Alexander Pope)

“When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. Now, most people would not be willing to die for an upright person, though someone might perhaps be willing to die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.”  (Romans 5:6-8, NLT)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.