Pain deep inside wrapping itself around the center of my heart.
Anger wrapping its tentacles around my heart, squeezing the pain inside.
Distrust oozing throughout the depths of my heart.
This trifecta of infection slowly eating away my heart.
The infection spreading to my thoughts, my feelings.
The center of my heart hiding a gangrenous wound
When in walks the Surgeon.
The Surgeon tells me he sees me, the very center of me.
He knows the oozing wound;
He feels the steady, spread of my pain.
He senses the anger radiating from me, the distrust making me recoil from His touch.
He sits down on the edge of my bed where I lay nursing my pain.
He looks me in the eye and He tells me gently what He sees.
His x-ray vision missing nothing, His diagnosis right on target.
He knows better than I do what lies deep inside me.
I want to stay in a fetal position, curled around the wounds, protecting my pain.
But He takes my hands; He exposes my vulnerable, hurting heart.
He explains that I need to trust Him, trust His hands wielding the Surgeon’s instruments.
He tells me He’s performed these surgeries many times with great success rates.
I tell Him I just want to stay numb – He tells me He wants me to be present with Him.
I tell Him I’m scared the healing process will hurt too much –
He tells me He’ll be right beside me all the way.
He tells me the debridement of the infection will hurt but He’ll be gentle.
I tell Him I really don’t trust Him.
He says, “That’s okay but I’m not leaving because you need Me.”