Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.
It's not that the Hatfields and McCoys aren't nice people,
but sometimes it is a better idea to let them be nice......
in different time zones....
or at least in different dentist offices.
Twice a year I take that journey to the dentist office.
I don't know of anyone who actually enjoys
going to the dentist.
I consider it one of those necessary evils,
like taxes and skydiving.
This year I looked forward to it even less.
For you see, my dentist is a McCoy.
He roots for the other team.
You know who I mean,
the arch rival of my football team.
Now I am sure that otherwise,
my dentist is a morally upright person,
but when it comes to football,
let's just say that I pray for him,
especially when he has his hands in my mouth.
The thing with the Hatfields and the McCoys is
no one knows who started it.
All they know
is that it started...
On this particular trip to Dr McCoy,
it was game day for my team,
so I knew it was going to be a challenging road trip for me.
Particularly when I knew
that on game day,
I was morally obligated to wear my team jersey.
I was in trouble as soon as I entered the waiting room....
Catcalls from the receptionist,
cold glares from waiting patients,
even a six year old who brazenly said.....
Your team stinks!
After 10 uncomfortable minutes of mental anguish,
I was ushered into a cubicle
to await my punishment.
I began to perspire as I looked around at all the
weapons that Dr McCoy had at his disposal
to inflict pain on this poor Hatfield.
A glimmer of hope appeared
as the dental assistant entered.
I was lucky.
She was a Hatfield too.
In past visits,
she had my back.
If I ever needed a dental hygienist as a bodyguard,
today was the day.
We high fived and and traded jokes about the other team
I even learned the art of talking smack talk
between flossing and rinsing.
Dental Hygienist Hatfield had lifted my spirits....
that is,
until Dr McCoy entered.
The cubicle became quiet.
I knew I was in for a time of testing.
Who knew what manner of punishment Dr McCoy was concocting....
Perhaps cavities that were "created',
a root canal for fun....
He glared down at me.
He didn't ask if I had been flossing,
oh no......
he asked who was goin to the Super Bowl.
I had the answer.......
but he had the drill.
With a supportive glance from dental hygienist Hatfield,
I looked him in the eye and said...
We are. You're going down!
It was then that Dr McCoy decided to "go down"
that is into my gums.
I can't say that the next 10 minutes
were the worst 10 minutes of my life,
but how I wish I had saved one of my time outs for now......
We live in a culture
where we are to stand up and loudly cheer for our team,
but we are told to keep quiet about our salvation.
It's not that the Hatfields and McCoys aren't nice people,
but sometimes it is a better idea to let them be nice......
in different time zones....
or at least in different dentist offices.
Twice a year I take that journey to the dentist office.
I don't know of anyone who actually enjoys
going to the dentist.
I consider it one of those necessary evils,
like taxes and skydiving.
This year I looked forward to it even less.
For you see, my dentist is a McCoy.
He roots for the other team.
You know who I mean,
the arch rival of my football team.
Now I am sure that otherwise,
my dentist is a morally upright person,
but when it comes to football,
let's just say that I pray for him,
especially when he has his hands in my mouth.
The thing with the Hatfields and the McCoys is
no one knows who started it.
All they know
is that it started...
On this particular trip to Dr McCoy,
it was game day for my team,
so I knew it was going to be a challenging road trip for me.
Particularly when I knew
that on game day,
I was morally obligated to wear my team jersey.
I was in trouble as soon as I entered the waiting room....
Catcalls from the receptionist,
cold glares from waiting patients,
even a six year old who brazenly said.....
Your team stinks!
After 10 uncomfortable minutes of mental anguish,
I was ushered into a cubicle
to await my punishment.
I began to perspire as I looked around at all the
weapons that Dr McCoy had at his disposal
to inflict pain on this poor Hatfield.
A glimmer of hope appeared
as the dental assistant entered.
I was lucky.
She was a Hatfield too.
In past visits,
she had my back.
If I ever needed a dental hygienist as a bodyguard,
today was the day.
We high fived and and traded jokes about the other team
I even learned the art of talking smack talk
between flossing and rinsing.
Dental Hygienist Hatfield had lifted my spirits....
that is,
until Dr McCoy entered.
The cubicle became quiet.
I knew I was in for a time of testing.
Who knew what manner of punishment Dr McCoy was concocting....
Perhaps cavities that were "created',
a root canal for fun....
He glared down at me.
He didn't ask if I had been flossing,
oh no......
he asked who was goin to the Super Bowl.
I had the answer.......
but he had the drill.
With a supportive glance from dental hygienist Hatfield,
I looked him in the eye and said...
We are. You're going down!
It was then that Dr McCoy decided to "go down"
that is into my gums.
I can't say that the next 10 minutes
were the worst 10 minutes of my life,
but how I wish I had saved one of my time outs for now......
We live in a culture
where we are to stand up and loudly cheer for our team,
but we are told to keep quiet about our salvation.
.
I find that strange.
As much as I like the game of football,
it has no significance when compared to the eternity.
And from a spiritual perspective,
there are no Hatfields and McCoys,
just one pool of humanity,
all of whom needs the saving grace of God.
I think about the times that I have remained silent
when I could have spoken about the Savior's victory over death for me.
That's a victory that has far greater effect upon me
than any football win.
So the next time
I feel like a Hatfield in a McCoy world......
Lord, help me to testify
about the greatest win of all.
PS. The Hatfields won that evening.
"You shall be brought before
governors and kings for My sake,
as a testimony to them and to the world.
But when they deliver you up,
do not become anxious
about how or what you will speak;
for it shall be given to you in that hour
what you are to speak.
For it is not you who speak,
but it is the Spirit of Your Father who speaks in you." Matthew 10:17-20
I find that strange.
As much as I like the game of football,
it has no significance when compared to the eternity.
And from a spiritual perspective,
there are no Hatfields and McCoys,
just one pool of humanity,
all of whom needs the saving grace of God.
I think about the times that I have remained silent
when I could have spoken about the Savior's victory over death for me.
That's a victory that has far greater effect upon me
than any football win.
So the next time
I feel like a Hatfield in a McCoy world......
Lord, help me to testify
about the greatest win of all.
PS. The Hatfields won that evening.
"You shall be brought before
governors and kings for My sake,
as a testimony to them and to the world.
But when they deliver you up,
do not become anxious
about how or what you will speak;
for it shall be given to you in that hour
what you are to speak.
For it is not you who speak,
but it is the Spirit of Your Father who speaks in you." Matthew 10:17-20
.
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