Bearing our wounds

Some child will come up to me in a public place, usually after a worship service or in a place like Wal-mart where young children are allowed the freedom to be walking on their own. Usually between five and nine years old, these children know me and are comfortable in asking me honest questions away from the censoring ears of their parents. And, after all these years, I've come to recognize the uncertainty and fear out of which they ask that same question.

"Did you ever brush your teeth when you were growing up?"

If you haven't met me then you don't know an obvious trait of mine. I have yellow teeth. They aren't necessarily ugly and they don't glow in the dark. However, they aren't white in color.

I wish I had a dollar bill for what I imagine hundreds of parents have told their children. "If you don't brush your teeth at night they'll look just like P.T.'s!"

I guess we all can serve as role models to the children in our community and I guess this has become my role.

Before you assume anything, let me assure you that my teeth are clean and that I brush two to three times a day. I even go to the dentist a couple of times a year for cleaning and fluoride treatments. They are healthy and I haven't had a cavity in several years (hope I haven't jinxed that now...).

I was lucky as a child. The story my parents told is that I developed a very bad lung infection, my temperature rose over 105 degrees Fahrenheit, and the doctors decided to use a massive dose of an experimental drug called tetracycline. It worked and cleared up the lung infection! And, it turned all my bones a shade of yellow.

I've had yellow teeth for as long as I can remember. In 1980, I had to have knee surgery after being hit on a bicycle. The surgeon told me my knee was the same color as my teeth.

So, you'll rarely see a photograph of me with my teeth showing. And, I continue to serve my role in families that are trying to get their children to regularly brush their teeth.

All of us bear the "scars" of our past. All of us have the "marks" from the experiences that have made us who we are and how we are. Sometimes the evidence is a physical one that other people can easily see. Other times the evidence lies buried deep in our personalities and our psyches.

Henri Nouwen used to describe spiritual leaders as "wounded healers." I like that term. He taught that one cannot help to heal the needs of others until you've first allowed your own wounds to be exposed. From pastors to lay members to simple "do-gooders," I've seen a lot of people burn out after trying to help others when providing spiritual leadership. I believe one cause for such is the attempt to keep your own need from showing, your own pain from breathing, your humanness from being so public.

We all have our wounds, some more publicly known than others. They make us who we are. And, in some way, maybe I'm thankful that parts of mine are so easily apparent by such a thing as the color of my teeth.

Are your wounds so easily viewable by others? You may be surprised in that they are.