"Go back," the voice whispered in my ear. "But it's none of my business, Lord." I was walking back home after 'tapau-ing' lunch. This time, the voice was stern. "Go back. Make the effort." Sighing inwardly I u-turned and walked back to the Indonesian cobbler and his son (I presume). Both were sitting by the pavement outside the stationery shop along the side road. They were regulars; everyday I would pass them by on my way to pack lunch.
Once I was chatting with the pakcik as he repaired my shoes, and he was telling me how horrid some people can be. He told of a case where this woman drove up alongside in a Merc, honked and handed him her shoes to repair, which he did. She didn't bother to get down from the car when she returned a while later to pick it up. So he got up and brought it to her, asking for RM10 fee. Apparently she took the bag with her repaired shoes in it, said "no money" and drove off, just like that. He shook his head, I said "Sorry, Pak," and took out 10 bucks to give him on top of my own repair charges; though he didn't want to accept it. I remembered that time as I walked back to the old cobbler.
The pakcik was a bit puzzled at my approach as I asked him whether he got paid just now. I had witnessed a man handing him RM10 as I walked past. I overhead the man saying "Tak ada la, bagi diskaun saja." I knew he was haggling. Pakcik's son looked at me and answered for the father, "Dia bagi RM1 saja, kata tak ada duit kecik." Apparently the man had just come from the mamak restaurant opposite. How could he say he didn't have small change. I asked how much was the charge. Old man cobbler sighed "Dua ringgit." - RM2. I was flabbergasted, horrified, ashamed, angry... Immediately I said sorry on behalf of ugly Malaysians. I was starting to cry. So quickly I took out some 1 dollar notes, without counting, and gave it over to him. Both father and son protested, but I insisted.
Back home I repented of how Malaysians are so quick to judge, criticize, condemn; some even bully and oppress foreigners in our midst. It's not just Indonesians, there are humans from Myanmar, Bangladesh, Nepal, Filipino, Pakistan ; I don't know from where else who are collecting our rubbish, cleaning our homes, maintaining our public parks, washing dishes, serving in kopi-tiams and restaurants, guarding roads in our neighborhoods, climbing up high-rise buildings to wash windows, mixing cement in the hot sun - doing all the dirty, dangerous, demeaning jobs Malaysians don't want to do. The least we can and should do is pay their dues.
I counted the money in my wallet and realized I had given the cobbler RM5. It struck me how appropriate it was; biblically 5 is the number of grace. What an apt reminder that God is gracious when we are not. If not for God's voice in my ear, I wouldn't have turned back, and a foreigner would have been cheated of the wages of his honest labor. And as the words "make the effort" stirred my heart, I remembered my visit just the day before to the dentist. She wasn't even my regular dentist actually.
It's been many many years since I last went to get my teeth checked. I have "dentist-phobia"; I avoid them unless absolutely necessary, because I loathe the
whole process of poking, filling etc. The sound of the drill is enough to make me want to run away. Thank God my teeth are hardy. But after some 30+ years, I finally had to go get a hole filled. It was then my regular dentist cautioned me that my crowns (which he did for me umpteen years ago) were "fracturing" and I had to replace new crowns, which would cost quite a bit. So I decided to get a second opinion from this lady dentist a friend recommended.
It turned out my crowns weren't breaking up; it was my gums that were deteriorating, unseen. Because my crowns were all fused together, which she commented shouldn't have been done that way. Well, how was I to know, right. Anyway short of a major expensive operation, there was nothing that could undo what was done years ago. She preferred to just clean up my teeth, which were obviously very dirty. Well, that's not surprising considering I haven't done any scaling or flossing whatsoever all these years. Like I said, thank God my teeth are hardy. So on my second visit, she did a very thorough job of scrubbing out 30 years of all the (icky bicky) stuff built-up in my mouth.
As I lay on the dentist chair, it struck me, actually it's not just about teeth. Our lives can be fine on the outside, like my teeth. But really, there's stuff buried deep inside, which we may not even know of, that needs major overhaul. Dr took a pretty long time - more than 1/2 hour to get through my whole mouth. And as she
Well, dear Dr did what she could in the circumstances but she didn't just stop at cleaning. She took the time and trouble to teach this old aunty how to use a special bristle-brush and water-jet to clean thoroughly. But old (and lazy) aunty wasn't that keen really. When I asked her if I had to do it daily, she smiled ever so kindly and said, "You really should make the effort. For your own sake. Or else it will get bad and then worse very fast." That struck me hard as the "Word" for the day. Truly if we don't make the effort to get our lives right with God, we will suffer the consequences.
Walking out of her office that morning, I caught a new paradigm of my life. I really need to dig up all those long-buried issues which I have conveniently "forgotten," locked in some dark cabinet of my mind. I really need to pull out those poisonous roots of bitterness, unforgiveness, resentment, hurts so deeply entrenched in my heart. Don't we all have them? And it's a daily cleansing, not one-off job. We think the easiest way is just let them stay buried and don't bother. Actually that's not a good idea. Buried things rot and fester, even unseen, unfelt, unknown. Like what's happening in my mouth.
To her credit, this dentist had a gentle touch (quite unlike my old dentist, who was really rather rough); she even apologized as I crinched every now and then in pain. 1/2 hour on the long chair trying not to be bothered by the shrill drill and keeping the mouth open can seem like a life-time. And I got to thinking, pain is inevitable, when God cleans up our lives because that's the way it is. Let's face it, humans don't like suffering. But suffering and death is a given in this life on earth. The 1 and only place where there's no suffering, no pain, no death is ...heaven. And that's already a done deal, guaranteed for Christ followers.
So heck, what's a little or even a lot of pain now. God promised He will not give more than we can take... Like the dentist who paused every now and then for me to wash out the dirt from my mouth. That was my "breather", when I could de- stress a bit - unclench my fingers and breathe normally. So it is, the good Shepherd of my soul makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me to quiet waters. I shall not want. I just need to make the effort, starting with my heart.
"For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love." - 2 Peter 1:5-7
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