The seconds feel like forever, so I have no words for these minutes, days and months. The beat has stopped, blood drained and my heart completely exposed. No anesthetic is administered for this operation. Folks in the waiting room should be alarmed at the length of time it’s taking, but I suppose that only reveals the severity of this sickness, the depth of my ‘disease’. Unfortunately, any complications prolonging this procedure are due to my own stubbornness. I’m clinging to the contaminated because it’s comfortable. It’s been with me for so long, we’re sadly inseparable.

My eyes are wide open during most of this, though I wish they didn’t have to be. My soul struggles with what I can see, coping with excruciating anxiety and looking for anything to pacify the pain. The sinking sharpness of His Spirit stings as the blade of His Word sinks a little deeper. I pray and the compassion in His presence calms every nerve, closing the lids over my eyes. And that’s when I feel the tenderness in His touch, sedating my senses in the surgery. Tides of tears fall in rhythm with the piercing pain yet, I will be living a dead life if this procedure doesn’t happen.

Not that my mind isn’t troubled in this turmoil and the pain isn’t plentiful, but I know the Great Physician is the only one equipped to operate in such a desolate, vile place. For the most part, I find rest and peace in knowing God’s specialty is raising dead things to life. I’m discovering His ministry in my misery as this heartbreak brings great healing in others. Passion runs from the roots of pain. My writing is only the overflow of His healing nectar in my brokenness.

I haven’t known a single person who bears the evidence of God’s presence and power in their lives, who hasn’t also been asked to walk in dramatically painful obedience. Though we’re changed on the inside, our minds take time to catch up. Paul reminds us of this in Ephesians 4:22 You were taught with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds.

Lord, I want to see generations fall into your heart. No more lies, no more fears. Consume their hearts, open eyes and craft their character to see and be magnetized by the beauty of who you are that their feet will fall into the path that leads to righteous, holy living. Despite depression or despair due to my own decisions, you will always be my Daddy. Your word says you are the Defender of the weak and draw near to the brokenhearted. I’m inviting you to come deeper than before and let me drink from your well of life. I am securely yours with no shame. Drench me in your grace and peace and create a new thing in and through me as I willingly lay bare my weaknesses, so that your power, my King, may be made perfect. For when I am weak, then I am strong.