Only You

It’s only You.

Only You can save my heart, even when You’re the only who can cut down deep enough to excavate what needs to go. It is a surgical procedure, and Your scalpel is swift and sharp, but I am finally at the point where I know You want to help me, it’s necessary to my survival, that I allow this surgery to happen.

So I sign over my permission, release my clutching hands from around my heart, leave my flesh exposed, wound open and sensitive to every small speck that finds its way to touch the surface. I am fully trusting You to operate, and receive me well.

It hurts, though. Oh sweet mercy, how Your incisions are painful! My bleeding heart, cut by Your blade. I cup my hands to catch what flows down and hold it all out to You. These intimate, tender pieces—they are Yours. Absorb them into Yourself. I scream out, for I am awake for this procedure and acutely aware of each place You stitch. Every cut I feel, antiseptic stings like madness. But such a fierce burn soon cools to a nurturing salve, even as I twist and coil, searching for comfort.

My chest parted and most delicate organ on display, I am determined to let Your fingers continue to massage, scrape, rearrange. Use the instruments You must, take time to do it right. This holy healing rips my sensors, strengthens my soul. Only You reach where others cannot, bend Your mouth to whisper words that sustain me in this state of suffering. Only You see what will be; bones must break before they reset, scrapes must be swiped clean as to avoid infection from meddlesome debris.

Strange thing is, I am more certain of Your presence here with me on this cold, metal table, than I’ve been in years. This pain still blazes, sharp and slicing through my raw heart, but You delve in to it with a willingness of Your own, reassurance that there is something eternal going on in the here and now.

Hold me. May I move as You move, bend as You bend, and lay supine for the remainder of this reconstruction. Surrendered to Your steady hand, counting breaths as Yours merge with mine. Eyes calm and locked on You, lovingly tending to this work within. This is for my good and Your glory. Chip away. I trust You with the pain, in the wire cuts, rub of my red heart. Only You feel what I feel. Only You know how to heal. Only You can truly bring me back to life.

 

Lord, this does not feel good. I have never been so acutely aware of the pain, yet also of Your presence. This is You with me, in the tapping of my bones. You are my sustenance, my comfort, my healer. I need to within me, to massage my soul from the inside out. We will walk this together, as I keep holding my heart out to You. Amen.