Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Dentists, Mechanics, and Deities

So I broke down today and decided to take my car into the mechanic tomorrow to be fixed. (It is not broken yet, but I'm guessing that it will suddenly be broken about 9a tomorrow.) So tonight I'm trying not to dread what bad news the mechanic will have for me. "Sir, if only you had brought this car in a week ago, it would have been a $50 repair. But now, it is going to run you at least $400."

I have a similar reaction toward dentists. (My fear of dentists is actually rational, since I have scary memories of being yelled at as a child for not taking proper care of my teeth. Oh wait, that isn't rational, is it?) I probably would have a similar reaction toward doctors, except that I'm healthy and not suffering any major pain so I can avoid them.

The funny part is that I tend to procrastinate because I don't want to hear bad news, which, of course, tends to make things worse. Or else I become overly sensitive to every little ache and rattle and run around asking myself, "Is this a major problem?"

Sadly, I think I tend to fit God into the category of the bad news bearing expert: He knows how to fix me, but I'm not really sure I want the diagnosis. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to pay the price for fixing the problem, and I'm hoping that if I keep ignoring it, it will go away. Plus the idea of being told by an expert "You are a complete idiot; how could you have messed up your life this badly?" doesn't appeal to me. And no, being told everyone else has done the same errors is not comforting.

Partly, I really, really need to have it hammered home that my attempts to handle life without God are something like trying to fly while free-falling without a parachute: As humiliated as the diagnosis and correction from God may be, and as attractive as sky-diving may be, the landing kills. And if I really care about my life, I'll bite the bullet and deal with God sooner rather than later after more damage has been done.

I also need to rewire my image of the distant hostile expert God to something saner. The cliche phrase I suppose would be "Father."

Now in more pragmatic matters: Perhaps I'd better be a little more careful how I handle people asking for computer help.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I hate going to the dentist, they like to hurt little boys and girls. I'm working on a theory that says God put dentists here to show us a glimpse of what will happen in hell. If I ever go to a dentist and, after they finish drilling, they offer me asparagus (unarguably a vegetable of the devil) I will be sure the theory is sound.