Spinach in my Teeth

With the eating regimen I’m on, I don’t get oatmeal for breakfast, or eggs, or pancakes, or cereal. Most days, I eat vegetables. I’ll throw together ‘most any variety. And whatever the mix, it almost always includes spinach, collards, or kale.

When it comes to dental hygiene, although I do floss most evenings, I’ve never gotten into the practice of brushing more than once a day. Yes, I know. I could do better, but then there are lots of things I could do better. It is what it is.

Some mornings, I remember to check out my smile in the rear view mirror on the way to the church. Or if I eat there, I can pick up the beautiful little mirror my desk – the one with the hand-carved back that I bought from a free-trade exhibit at a conference a couple years ago. 

But some days I forget to check, or else eating at my desk I think of something to ask our administrative assistant. I walk down the hall and have already started talking when it hits me. I cover my mouth and mumble, “I hope I don’t have spinach in my teeth.”

Some of you no doubt have toothbrushes in your desks. But others will understand walking out of the room straight to a mirror, smiling, and then groaning.

I’d like for people to tell me when I have something in my teeth — or on my face — that doesn’t belong there. I’d like someone to let me know when my fly’s down. And some do. But not everyone.

Two weeks ago, I talked in my sermon about how often we’re nice when we ought to be kind or honest. Nice is easier. It takes less effort. And since it’s expected by the people around us, it’s even rewarded sometimes.

Have you ever gotten that verbal slap because you were kind or truthful, when what the other person wanted was “nice”? Yeah, me too.

When I was at seminary in the Twin Cities, conversation would occasionally include frustration about “Minnesota Nice” – that artificial caring that some residents seem to have perfected. Those of us from further afield nodded but countered that this characteristic is not unique to Minnesota.

Even though niceness is the way of our day, maybe it’s one of those things we ought to grow out of. Maybe too much “nice” is like too many marshmallows. Too much of either one can leave us feeling a little ill. 

So how about if you and I make a pact? We’ll each work on being honest and kind (remember to practice them together, Jayneann, to avoid hurt feelings!), and we’ll try to leave off of the niceness, at least most of the time.

What do you say?

We can be proud of our clear conscience. We have always lived honestly and sincerely, especially when we were with you. And we were guided by God’s wonderful kindness instead of by the wisdom of this world. 2 Corinthians 1:12 CEV