I leaned heavily on her forearm as she escorted me through the dental surgeon’s office door.  In a blurred haze, I shuffled across the hot asphalt of the parking lot until she eased me into the passenger seat of the waiting car.

How I got from the car to the couch remains a mystery.  I have no recollection of the car ride home, or the transition from the vehicle to the house.

All I can remember is waking up on the blue leather couch, propped up by pillows, and sticky from the thick summer air.  Gobs of blood-soaked gauze hung from both sides of my mouth in an awkward, uncomfortable grip.  The numbness lingered, and the gaps in my memory and my gums didn’t make it any more pleasant.  I’d had all four wisdom teeth removed, and I wasn’t impressed.

Within seconds of opening my heavy eyelids, she was by my side, fresh squares of gauze at the ready, and ice packs wrapped in a washcloth.

With soothing words and gentle hands she nursed me that day, and all through the night.  She set the timer on the microwave and rose every four hours to hold cold compresses against my cheeks, as the doctor ordered.  With genuine love, she sacrificed her own comfort and sleep to maximize my chances of healing and recovering well.

This memory of my mom’s sacrificial love remains a great testimony to me of the Lord’s sacrificial love for His children.  I’m so grateful not only to have had a mother like that, but to have a Heavenly Father who does the same.

Yes, at times He allows us to go through bouts of pain and swelling and sometimes even the embarrassment of having chipmunk cheeks in public — but it’s always for our own good, and often to prevent further pain or injury in the future.  Not only that, but He stays awake all night, holding healing compresses against our cheeks to nurse the wounds.

“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you …” Isaiah 66:13a, NIV

This is the second installment of Memoir Monday.  Click here to read other posts in this series, like the one on the day I almost died ..