This is my daughter Jillian. She is my hero this week because she has taught me a lesson in trust, faith, and perseverance. (She is unsuccessfully trying to show you her tooth.)

If there was one word that would sum up our experience in China so far it would be “hard”. I suppose “exhausting” would be a fair assessment of living here as well. Some people ask me why it’s so hard  and I wish I could break it down into a nice hundred word or less paragraph, but I just can’t. It’s a whole bunch of stuff. Some of it is attached to our internal emotional and mental realities; some of it attached to externals. Some of the difficulty has been merely with our perception of events; some of it has been the events themselves. I have tried to process all of the tough parts of our adventure with people here in China and with people back in the States. Neither effort has produced a ton of comfort, humanly speaking. This is not necessarily a bad thing. I can only conclude that this trial is just something between me, my family, and God. That’s right, no one else is privy to all the tiny nuances of this trial and I’m beginning to accept this as something to be celebrated. My family and I and God are going to be so super tight after all of this because no one else is invited to understand on a soul level.

So, we needed a small break from the constant trial in our lives. We went on vacation over Spring Break to an amazing island off the southern coast of China. The resort we stayed at was spectacular and relatively inexpensive by American standards. It was fabulous and God knew we would need the rest to face the week ahead.

When we returned from our trip, the trial started back up immediately.

During the break, my youngest, Jillian, started complaining that her front tooth hurt and by the time we got home, the pain got a lot worse. Saturday night after we returned, she began wailing about her tooth during dinner and it was apparent that we had to take her to the dentist. I had heard stories about painful dental experiences here, so I asked our community where I could take Jillian. Most everyone referred me to an international dentist that had worked with many children and spoke English very well. I gathered all the information I needed to make an appointment and called him on Monday.

We arrived at our appointment and instead of the super friendly, awesome-with-kids dentist that Jillian was used to in the States, we met Dr. No Smile. Jillian climbed into the chair and he began to poke and tap Jillian’s infected tooth and gums in different spots as she squirmed and squealed in the chair. Every time he would poke her tender mouth he would ask “This hurt?…This hurt?” And she would let out a little moan in reply. He decided the tooth needed to be x-rayed.  After the x-ray, he bluntly stated in front of Jillian, “She has an infection. I’m going to drill a hole in the tooth. This will let out the infection. Then you have to come back Wednesday for the root canal.” “OK,” I said, my eyes getting wider as he began to set up a tiny drill. Regrouping so that Jillian didn’t see how nervous I was, I grabbed Jillian’s leg and told her, “Baby, the dentist is going to fix your tooth so it doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s going to be alright.” Jillian gave me a little pensive nod and looked up at the ceiling.

The next few minutes were painful, mainly for Jillian, but also for me. At first, he told me that the nerve in the tooth was dead and she wouldn’t be able to feel the drill. That was not true. She felt the drill and let us know about it loudly. After a few squirmy screams, pushing down as much anger as I could, I quietly suggested he give her something for the pain. The dentist reluctantly went into a drawer and pulled out the needle to administer something, which I assume was Novocaine. I let out a big sigh, grateful that he was going to numb the area before continuing, but he then tried to give her the shot without numbing the surface of her gum first.

If you’ve ever had dental work done in the states, this is not how they handle a root canal, especially with a child. First, the dentist gives you laughing gas to relax you as you listen to quiet muzak and gaze up at the puppies or kittens or whatever calming scene they have taped to the ceiling. Then he or she puts a topical cream on top of the gum so the needle isn’t so painful. Then the dentist injects enough Novocaine into your gum on every side so that you do not feel the instrument drilling into your tooth.

Laughing gas doesn’t exist in dental offices in China, “bedside manner” is not a thing here, and they really only give pain meds if you ask for them, or in Jillian’s case, scream for them.

Every time the dentist tried to poke that needle into her gum, she screamed and totally freaked out the dentist and the assistant. They couldn’t administer the Novocaine, even with me trying to hold her head still. So, he continued with the drilling, this time with only a topical numbing agent on her gum. Jillian looked at me horrified as big tears ran down the sides of her face into her ears. I cried and prayed out loud that Jesus would please help my baby. The dentist had nothing to say in the way of anything encouraging, so I just held onto her leg and told her it was going to be alright. Somehow, she got through the first part of her root canal that morning.

Afterward, the dentist shooed me out the door telling me that Jillian would have to return in two days after the swelling went down from the infection in her gums. There were no care instructions, no tips about how to brush or how to manage her pain after we left. I asked him what I should give her for the pain, and he said “nothing”. (I later found out from some more expat friends that Chinese doctors don’t approve of giving children pain medication because they believe it isn’t good for them.)

At this point in my week, I was absolutely longing to return to the states, to “make sure” my children were taken care of and that the people that were supposed to care for them were caring people. After all the enduring and persevering of living here, this event was pushing me over the edge. I felt done.

But, the absolutely mind blowing part of all of this is that my little girl went home after all that completely OK. There was no resentment toward me or the dentist. She was not traumatized in the least. In fact she even played with her dolls when we got home and never mentioned the pain. I sat her down several times over the next two days to explain that we had to go back to the dentist and that it was probably going to hurt. I also told her that if the dentist was going to give her a shot, then she had to stay very still until it was over, even if it hurt, so that it wouldn’t hurt so much when he worked on her tooth. I assured her that after her tooth was fixed, it wouldn’t hurt her anymore when she ate. Each time I talked with her, she just hugged me and replied in her tiny little voice “OK”.

On the day we went back to get her root canal, she said she was going to “do really good”. She wouldn’t look at the dentist, but instead got right into the chair and laid back. She opened her mouth and took the shot like a boss, even though I could tell it hurt and she let out a little moan while it was happening. Then the dentist performed the root canal as I watched, my face all twisted as he shoved various instruments and things into the hole in her tooth. I was definitely experiencing this right alongside her. At one point while the dentist let her sit up and rinse and spit, she looked at me and asked me, “Am I doing good?” I encouraged her and said, “Your doing amazing, baby!”

After we got home, as I was doing the dishes, I thanked God that my Jillian did so well. Then the obvious metaphor of the whole thing washed over me in a refreshing wave of truth. It occurred to me that the reason why she did so well was because she had faith. She believed me when I said the procedure was necessary. And the reason why she had faith is because she trusted me. And the reason why she trusted me was because she knows I love her. She fixed her eyes on me and she was able to persevere through the pain.

And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Hebrews 12:1-3

Some things don’t come easy. Let me repeat this for my own benefit. Some things don’t come easy. Everyone knows that gaining anything worth something is going to require some kind of sacrifice at some point. Some experiences are difficult for long periods of time and they make you want to run back to comfort. If I’m alive to be a blessing to God and others then sometimes that means God is going to lead me through hard things that require perseverance.

But, I have been asking God, “Is it all worth it?”

Lurking underneath that question is the real question, “What am I getting out of all this?” (Ooh. That’s ugly.)

Maybe it would benefit me to ask, “What is God getting out of all of this?”

And I believe the answer is that He is getting us.

The joy set before him was the restored relationship he would have with us. But, he also knew that on our way to heaven, we would continue to experience pain. Still, he promised to never leave us and even come live inside of us through the HS. I can only imagine that because he lives inside of us that he experiences all of that pain we feel. So, why would God do that? Because God thinks being close, just being near to us, is worth all of the pain. He is that passionately in love with us.

We are the joy set before him. Finally, I can ask myself the question that will enable me to persevere,

“Is he the joy set before me?”

Today, I want to remember that Christ sacrificed for me. Because of that I can trust him. Christ received the joy set before him after he endured the cross, he received me, and he received you. Because of that I can have faith when He tells me that there is joy on the other side of my trials. As I walk with Him and He walks with me I know that he experiences my pain, and he encourages me, gives me moments of rest, and reminds me of his love. Because of that I can persevere.

And God did answer my question of “Is it all worth it?” with this song. It is all worth it because He is worthy.