Growing Up

When I was a little girl, my mom took me to a dentist's office that was decorated with a Western theme.  There were cowboy boots, hats, horseshoes, all the things.  I had fond memories of that office, so when my children were little and we started looking for a dentist, we ended up at the same place.  

A few years ago, their practice expanded; they were bursting at the seams.  They moved to a new location and started fresh with an aquatic theme.  It felt a bit sad to leave the Western theme behind, but the new aquatic theme was a lot of fun too.  

Last week I took my 16-year-old to the dentist for his regular cleaning.  When we arrived, we checked in where we always do.  The people at the desk know us by name.  We’ve been through two sets of braces there, as well as nearly two decades worth of cleanings, pulled teeth, etc.  It is familiar and friendly.  

Typically, when it is our turn, they call our name from a door near the check-in desk, but on this day, they called my son’s name from a side door.  This is the door where they call the adult patients back for their cleanings.  I know this from a previous visit when I helped my adult son get established in this new space.  

We walked to the door, and I thought, this is all wrong.  Why are they calling us through this door?  Maybe they have the wrong kid on the calendar; perhaps there has been a mix-up.  

The woman who greeted us told us we were on her schedule that day.  

I thought there must have been a mistake because my son is only 16 and not an adult patient yet.  But there wasn’t a mistake.  Due to his age and having completed his braces, they decided he was ready to see the adult cleaning team.  

But you know who wasn’t ready?  Yes, that’s right, me!  

I went to the dentist that day thinking we had two more years going through the doors on the pediatric side, talking with the staff that knows us well, seeing the team that we’ve seen for nearly two decades, and instead, discovered we’d never be going through those doors again.  In the future, we will enter from a different entrance and talk to a different team.

I had a deep sense of sadness as I thought about this being the beginning of last times.  It reminded me of when we used our crib for the last time, or when we packed the bottles away, or the many other lasts as the youngest child got older.  

But then I was watching my son sitting in that chair getting his cleaning.  He was totally fine.  He wasn’t sad about being in a different part of the building.  In fact, when we were done, he expressed his delight in having a cubicle all to himself, his enjoyment in the quieter space, and a great window view.  

As I reflected on this trip to the dentist, I found myself thinking about this passage from Hebrews 5, beginning in verse 11, that says, “We have a great deal to say about this, and it is difficult to explain, since you have become too lazy to understand.  Although by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the basic principles of God’s revelation again.  You need milk, not solid food.  Now everyone who lives on milk is inexperienced with the message about righteousness, because he is an infant.  But solid food is for the mature - for those whose senses have been trained to distinguish between good and evil.” 

There are moments when I reflect on my children being small and get sentimental, but the truth is I want them to grow up.  I want them to flourish.  I want them to confidently enter their adult lives with the necessary tools and training.  I want them to ask good questions, wrestle with challenging ideas, and be able to distinguish between good and evil.

In the same way that our physical bodies will grow and change for our whole lives, our faith should also grow and change as we learn more about God. 

This passage in Hebrews is pretty blunt.  The author states those listening had become lazy in understanding, and so now, instead of them being able to teach others, they are still dependent on others re-teaching them the basics.  The previous verses in this chapter speak of Jesus and His role as high priest.  The author wants to be able to unpack this, but he can't because the people listening can't understand.  There is more to learn, but they seem content to just drink the milk. 

We can settle into the infancy stage of knowing God and remain there, but there is so much more to see and learn.  It would be unfortunate if we decided one day that a glass of milk would suffice when a banquet was laid out before us to feast upon.  
 

~  Melissa