the final tug

The kid has a tooth that is clinging to her gums by the faintest of threads.  One of those lovely situations I'm sure you've all seen wherein it can be pulled completely out of its socket in a variety of stunning contortions.  While I'm sure this has quite a bit to do with her request for oatmeal this morning, she isn't quite ready to let it go.  Summer is, of course, a more boring time to lose a tooth than during the school year.  No opportunity to go to the office and be given a tooth-shaped box to wear around one's neck for the rest of the day.  Little chance to share one's brand-new gap with others.  Yet all the discomfort of making that final tug remains.

(I just hope she doesn't lose it in the pool during swimming lessons.  We've already had to write one explanatory note to the Tooth Fairy after she swallowed lost tooth #2.  Thank heavens the T.F. trusts in her veracity.)

What am I clinging to this day?  There are times when all of us hold onto things far longer than is reasonable.  We fear that final tug.  Usually these things are more complicated than the extraction of mostly rootless baby teeth -- but that only serves to make the final tug that much more important.  Once we take that step, we are released from the burdens of struggle or of hindrance.  We're freed to move forward into the new things God has planned for us.

I pray for the strength to pull myself away from the things that no longer fit.  Our lives are a journey; just as we need to lose baby teeth and allow space for the new ones to grow in, we need to embrace change and growth over time.

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