The great physician has been using his scalpel on me lately, and it hurts like heck. Having recently undergone a major surgery, I should know a thing or two about how this works. But of course, like with many spiritual matters, it takes me awhile to figure it out. I was feeling pain, and I got angry, not recognizing that my loving surgeon was doing some necessary repairs to my life and heart.
For my esophagus surgery, I had an amazing surgeon, to whom I gave my full trust, to cut me open and repair my messed up gastrointestinal tract. And even though I went to him with a list of questions and left with pages full of answers, I still had plenty of surprises in the recovery process.
At my two week exam, I hobbled into the office, clutching the left part of my ribcage, asking, “Why does it hurt here so badly?” The surgeon explained that he needed to cut deeply into my muscles to get at whatever he needed to fix. It was the most complex and deepest of the cuts, so it hurt the most. It’s also taking the longest to heal.
In my life, Jesus, the great physician, has been lovingly using his scalpel, so I can heal and become the person he wants me to be. The problem is, scalpel cuts don’t feel very good, especially the deep ones.
I think it started with my home. I got a note from my apartment owners, saying that when our lease runs out, we need to move. I love our apartments, and this doesn’t fit with my own plan. I wanted to stay here, in this apartment, with my sunny living room and my Jesus loving neighbor. I like my view, and my garage is convenient. And I HATE moving.
But the scalpel cut that away.
Then, I got a note from my ministry leader, letting me know that my ministry is being cancelled. I won’t be writing for my church any longer, and it upset me more than I thought it would. Suddenly, it became MY ministry, not God’s service.
So, the scalpel cut that too.
First, I got angry and defensive, not a very pleasant person to be around. Then, I sulked. Finally, after I was done with my pity party, I prayed. (Why, oh why, is that always last?)
And God reminded me of the 5 wounds on my stomach and the trust I gave to my surgeon to fix me. Even though I’ve been going through weeks of pain and annoying lifestyle changes, I continue to trust that my surgeon knows what he’s doing.
But, what about the Great Physician, to whom I gave my entire life? The one who I trusted to take care of me and heal me, to make me more like him? Why can’t I trust that he knows what he’s doing in these matters, even though they hurt, even though they cause me some inconvenience?
So, convicted and annoyed with myself that I didn’t see it sooner, I’m having lots of chats with my Great Physician, and I’m trying to trust him and his expert hands to do what is right for me and my life. Even if it hurts like heck.