Life has been difficult recently. Lots of little problems and big feelings to deal with. The other day, when my front teeth started to move out of position, I wanted to sit down and give up.
I thought about Peter on the rough sea and his cry, “Save me, Lord!” and tried to follow his example.
I remembered the surrender prayer:
“O Jesus, I surrender myself to You, take care of everything!”
But despite turning to God, I still felt awful.
Wanting to run away from my feelings and my constant thoughts about my migrating teeth, I decided to visit my daughter at the cafe where she works.
When I returned home, I sat in my back garden, bathed in glorious spring sunshine, and wrote this story:
Fri 30 October 2026
My front teeth are moving: the wire that holds them in place has lost its grip. I look in the mirror to determine the damage, gulp in alarm, and make a decision: I need to see a dentist. I make an appointment for next Wednesday morning.
I can’t stop thinking about my teeth. Can I afford to wait five days until I see the dentist? Perhaps by the time I open my mouth for inspection, my front teeth will have migrated further. What if I need more orthodontic work to put them back where they belong?
I ring the dentist's surgery, and a wonderfully friendly and helpful woman listens to my concerns, speaks to the dentist, and then moves my appointment forward.
There's nothing more that I can do, so I can stop thinking about my teeth. Worrying about them won't change the situation. But somehow forgetting about my migrating teeth is difficult. My mind won't let go of the problem.
Life has felt full of problems recently. Not huge ones. But they feel significant nonetheless.
Suddenly, I want to leave the difficulties behind. Escape for an hour or two. I put on my shoes, grab my car keys, give Quinn a bacon biscuit, and say, "Be good. I'll see you later."
Obviously, Quinn doesn't understand those words, but she knows they mean I'm going out. It's time for her to power down and have a nap until I return.
I drive to town. I go to the cafe, where Charlotte is working. As I come through the cafe door, her face lights up. "Hello Mum!"
I smile. I knew that going out to see my sweet Charlotte would lift my spirits.
"I'll have an almond cappuccino," I say before heading to a table. I unpack my iPad and begin work on my new tiny stories journal.
I have forgotten all about my teeth.
When I reached the end of the story, I realised God had sent me the help I needed: sweet daughter love.
Love helps us endure everything.
My Tiny Stories Journal
I wrote my tiny story using the Platen app. I exported the words as images, uploaded them to Canva, and arranged them on an 8.5 in x 11 in template. I added a torn-paper background before downloading the finished image, then added it to my Tiny Stories Paper app journal.
My journal is getting fat. Loads of tiny stories about my life, things I’m thinking about and doing. I’ve added some photos too. I enjoy flipping the pages remembering and appreciating the different moments of my days.
I wonder if I’ll soon be writing a tiny story about my wonderful dentist who will sort out my troublesome teeth.
What about you? Do you have someone special who eases your difficulties with their sweet love? Do you keep a journal? Maybe you write little stories about the different moments of your days.
