There are lots of things I try to avoid, the following are two of the highest on that list.

1) Getting hurt. 

2) Paying money to get hurt. 

So, it follows that the dentist ranks up there among my “places I’d rather have an asthma attack than visit” list.

That said, I went to the dentist tonight. My first appointment since a enduring a nuclear tooth extraction in June which caused some swelling. And by “some swelling” I mean I bore a resemblance to a person somewhere between Alvin and Louis Armstrong. I also cried.

But tonight was different. I returned to my family’s dentist, a gentle Indian man who knows where my dad works and my baby sister by name. He holds handshakes long and lets his patients know that, no matter what, he can do something to help them.

And, as I gulped greedily on that wild cocktail of fear, shame and relief served exclusively in the dentist’s chair, I started wondering if that’s all we’re really looking for, anyway. From our friends, from our loves, from our families, from our church. Maybe even from God. I think we get so lost in the leadership lessons and the tough-love last-stands that we forget that most of us just need to be reminded that hope still exists.

I’ve had no formal counseling education but in my study of the human condition, and of my own colorful brokenness, I’ve come to believe a few things about healing. I’ve come to think that most of us are truly only looking to know two things.

1) We aren’t alone. 

2) It gets better. 

It’s my experience that, until I know these two things, until I believe them, I cannot truly believe in a strength chief enough to rescue someone as broken as I am. I think that’s what God means to do with humanity and I think it’s all kinds of brilliant that we’re given the opportunity to give these two gifts to… everyone we know.