Wisdom Tooth
Jeffry Yoo-Hess
Tapas Winner

Every minute he lays in the road makes the chance of being run over more likely.  His broken bike is in the ditch.  His awareness is disembodied and perceives no pain.  An angel appears, androgynous but emanating femininity.  “Like Wisdom,” he thinks.  The seraph says, “Don’t let the requirements be your Nineveh.  Learn from the fish’s belly.  He tries to say, “It’s not spiritual, it's political.  Only God decides who’s worthy,” but his corporal mouth is full of bloody gravel and his spirit is mute.  “God is other people. God can seem senseless. Trust the process.  God is process.  You are chosen, but not ready,” she concludes.  The figure fades and pain arrives. His gums ache.  Wisdom cost a tooth.  A car comes and takes him to the hospital.  

A week later at the restaurant, the pancakes are soft enough to eat. His buddy says he looks like a hockey player with the gap in his smile and says, “Don’t let the time and money you invested in seminary make you jump through hoops you think are ridiculous.”  He wants to heed this advice and worship the pancakes he is eating; comfort food and a comfortable life. He feels the hole in his mouth with his tongue and thinks, “Comfort gives you diabetes.  Comfort kills the soul.”  He fills out the candidacy application after dinner.  Interviews start in a month.  If he is supposed to be a pastor, God will make a way.  

First published: November 2017
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