It's Okay...To Talk About Our Broken Teeth

[Timl1980]

I have been downcast the past few weeks.

 

My wife and I lost two cars within the space of two weeks, and along with the added stress of more debt, we didn't handle it the best as a married couple. Perhaps this post should go in the Comfort section...but I am posting it publicly because a brother reached out to me yesterday and rendered me speechless with just a single verse...and I wanted to share this comfort and encouragement with everyone that visits here, regardless of whether you are a full member yet or just lurking on the outskirts of this beautiful website, (which I myself did for months).

 

The simple truth is...not everyone I spoke to about our recent trials has been super receptive to our plight. It's not that they were discouraging...no... they simply were not as encouraging as I would have hoped for. I was praying to Jehovah yesterday...entreating him for just a hint of assurance that I was making the right decisions...that my choices had been good ones...and then this brother called...out of nowhere.

 

Friends...please join me in turning to the book of Lamentations...a book penned by the prophet Jeremiah...who sat down weeping and lamenting the loss of his beautiful city, Jerusalem as he wrote this...according to the Greek Septuagint. 

 

Lamentations 3:16: "He breaks my teeth with gravel; He makes me cower in the ashes."

 

Such a simple verse...and yet these words are absolutely packed with hard-hitting, gut-wrenching meaning that took the breath from my lungs when the brother explained what they meant.

 

The Jews had suffered a devastating loss through their own disobedience and lack of respect for Jehovah and his ways. 

 

And now, to add humiliation on top of everything else they were experiencing...as they were being led into exile...they were forced to bake their bread in pits they dug themselves...thus causing their bread to be contaminated with grit...breaking off some of their teeth even as they ate it.

 

 

What a horrifying experience...what a dose of harsh reality for those Jews who had been too proud to listen to Jehovah's counsel. 

 

The brother pointed out that Jeremiah was inspired to pen these words...he was inspired to acknowledge and confront these harsh realities head on...but WHY??

 

Because my dear brothers and sisters...it's often in moments like those that Jehovah provides the strength and resilience to keep going...even if it's just for another day.

 

How do I know this? How did this brother prove this point to me?

 

Because just a few verses later...in verses 22 and 23...Jeremiah says the following: "It is because of Jehovah’s loyal love that we have not come to our finish, For his mercies never end.23 They are new each morning; your faithfulness is abundant."

His mercies renew each morning!!

 

Please...please take comfort in these words as they come from someone with definitive firsthand knowledge of this as a solid FACT!

 

Jehovah knows about our "cracked and broken teeth", friends. 

 

He understands it's all we can do to keep trudging along through Satan's wicked system, figuratively stopping each day to bake our bread in the trenches of a wicked and dying system...but we, my dear brothers and sisters...we are not heading for exile.

 

WE are heading towards the New System...we are walking straight into a new world filled to the brim and spilling over with happiness and joy unlike anything we can ever imagine.

 

We are all struggling together...for now. We are broken, battered and bruised...for now.

 

But soon...very soon...we will be whole once more...and never will we have to deal with broken teeth...ever again. 

[jdcarlson]

My Dear Brother Tim,

 

Thank you for your heartfelt posting.

 

Satan seems to take sepcial delight in creating difficulties for Joehvah's dear ones.

 

If we see a brother or sister in a wheelchair, we now immediately about the problem they have.

 

But for many of us, our problems are not discernable from the outside, although they may be overwhelming.

 

I faced a similar problem about 55 years ago. Internally I was a "basket case" over it, but few others were aware of it.

 

In the 1960s the US was embroiled in the War in Viet Nam. At the peak involvement there were over 400,000 US troops in Viet Nam. This was years before enlistment in US armed forces was voluntary. At the time they had a Selective Service System (more commonly, and accurately, referred to as the DRAFT). Under US draft law every male had to register within 30 days of his 18th birthday. He was subject to be called up for military service potentially until age 35 (although normally those over 30 were not called). I turned 18 in July, 1962. I properly went to the draft board and registered.

 

At that time there were classifications to determine one's elegibility. For example I-A was the prime class to be called. III-C was for parents' exemption. IV-D was for exemption as a minister. I do not now (at age 80) remember any of the other classifications. There was a provision that if a brother was a pioneer (then there was a 100 hour field service requirement to be a pioneer) he would qualify for Class IV-D as a minister, and thus exempt from the draft.

 

To establish the "bona fides" of my claim to be recognized as a minister, I began pioneering my Senior Year in High School. My father's job had caused some family moves while I was in High School. I ended up attending High School in Illinois, Texas, Florida, and Missouri. At the end of my first semester of my Senior Year in Missouri, I read through the Missourti High School handbook. I realized that I would have enough credits when I finished the first semester of my Senior Year to get a Missouri High Shool Diploma  -  BUT  -  I was missing a single required course  -  the second semester of American History. 

 

Thankfully, the High School had a second semester American History class scheduled for first period in the second semester of the school year. I made an arrangement with the High School Administration to let me attend the first period Second Semester American History class I needed and then I could leave the campus. That would leave the rest of the day free for me to get in pioneer hours, so I could start pioneering in January, 1962. 

 

Thankfully, there was a book study group at the Questell house, a block and a half from the High School campus. Their older son was pioneering. So, I could go to the first period class at the High School (which was from 8:00 AM to 8:50AM) and have time to walk the block and a half to the Questell house to go in field service with their older son. At first it was a little akward being the only student to show up at High School wearing a coat and tie and carrying a bookbag. But, I got over that in time.

 

At first the Draft board did not want to recognize me as a minister eligible for Draft Classification IV-D.  I requested a personal appearance (according to Selective Service Regulations). The Draft board would still not recognize me as a minister, eligible for a IV-D classification. I filed a written appeal to the Selective Service System Apeals Board (as was allowed according to regulations). They granted me the IV-D classification.

 

Every year after that I would receive a letter from my Draft Board requiring verification that I was still a "pioneer minister." Every year I would have to write to the Society to request a letter of verification, which I would then forward to my Draft Board.

 

During this time, because of political pressure to give young men some indication of their exposure to the Draft, the Selective Service System decided to hold a "lottery" to determine the order in which young men would be called based on their date of birth. The determination was by two large rotating barrels. One had "ping pong" balls numbered 1 thorugh 365. The other had balls identified with a date. A ball would be chosen alternatively from the two barrrels to determine supposedly totally randomly the order in which young men would be called. When that lottery was finished, my "lottery number" was 26. Which meant I would be the 26th person they called from the I-A (i.e., "prime" draft class). The US had 400,000 or more stationed in Viet Nam at the time. Meaning I would be at the top of the list if I ended up in class I-A.

 

I received a letter from my Draft Board to report for a physical examination. The examination took two days (walking around in my underwear carring a folder with my papers in it). At the end they found me "fit as a fiddle, and ready to be played."

 

In 1969 my son was born. My wife was out of work on maternity leave. My father had lost his job, and he and my mother were living with us. Out of five people in the house (counting the baby), I was the only one working and bringing home money. I needed full time work. The part time work that allowed me to pioneer just dod not pay enough to cover everything. I came off of the pioneer list in October, 1969. Late in 1969 I received the annual letter and questionnaire asking for proof from the Society that I was still a pioneer. I filled out the questionaire. Since I had come off of the pioneer list, there was no proof from the Society to send. I told them about the baby, and enclosed a copy of his birth certificate and mailed the information back.

 

Typically would would take two months or longer for me to hear back from my Draft Board every year.   Six weeks after I had sent the information to the Draft board telling them about our new baby, President Nixon came on National TV in January 1970 and said there would be no more parental exemptions from the Draft. 

 

I was just about frantic. I was no longer a pioneer. To me it appeared that my next letter from the Draft board would be my noticed I was drafted. In my mind I thought I would be going to prison for at least three years to keep my neutrality, and come out with a felony conviction hanging around my neck, making it very hard to get dependable employment.

 

In the middle of January 1970 I received a letter from my Draft board.

 

With great consternation I opened it. Inside was my classification card for class III-C, exempt as a parent!!!!

 

When I realized what it said I was totally surprised and relieved.

 

The only thing I could figure out was that the Draft board had decided to put me in class III-C before President Nixon made his announcement, and they did not bother to go back to those cases they had already decided but not yet mailed. It was just a matter that the secretary had not mailed out the notices, and they did not want to re-visit decisions already made.

 

I still thank Jehovah every night in my prayers that the situation turned out all right for our family.

 

It has greatly increased by knowledge that we can depend on Jehovah to protect his people.

 

You have had difficulties, as you mentioned. My suggestion is just pray to Jehovah that he will help you to endure, to be loyal to him, to protect you from satan's attacks, and to help you remain faithful to him to prove Satan is a liar.

 

Jehovah is certainly our best stronghold and our protector.

 

Thanks,

 

Jim

[Ludwika]

5 hours ago, Timl1980 said:

Lamentations 3:16: "He breaks my teeth with gravel; He makes me cower in the ashes."

 

Such a simple verse...and yet these words are absolutely packed with hard-hitting, gut-wrenching meaning that took the breath from my lungs when the brother explained what they meant.

I love those moments when you suddenly find the spotlight illuminating a verse you have read and not paid any particular attention to before! I find you never forget it. 

And it's so faith strengthening when Jehovah so obviously answers our prayers, and someone calls us out of the blue, or he provides an answer in some other way. Experiences like this are encouraging for all of us, help all of us to endure, thank you so much for sharing it with us. 💖