... because I've just completed a 2 week rotation in surgery
To be a surgeon, you have to be very patient. See, as our persons grow and mature, as we live our lives –going to work, attending church, developing friendships, existing as a sister or brother or uncle – our bodies too are growing. Their insides are changing. They’re doing so many things they should be doing, and then the odd thing they shouldn’t be. Tissue is growing, things are stuck together, and that’s all normal. We live on.
But when a surgeon operates, they must be patient.
When they pierce the skin and insert their first retractor, what they see is not what is found in an anatomy textbook. No – years of growth necessitates that not everything is as you or I might expect. The insides of a person are never predictable. All the necessary organs are present and functioning, but they are not isolated. There are bands of tissue sticking them together, occasionally interfering with their function and obscuring the view of the person on the outside.
So are our insides – so is our heart.
Yes, it exists in its original form, with an inherent desire to be loved and a natural capacity to love. It is constantly searching for the answers to life’s greatest questions as it beats on day in and day out. But it, too, is affected by our growth. As we have risked parts of our heart, as we have loved and been loved, as we have been vulnerable and felt rejection, so too has our natural state been shifted. And so, just as the insides of no two people are identical, so too – the hearts of no two people can be the same.
Now for the surgeon to accomplish their task, they must gently pry away those things that don’t belong. They peel back layers and proceed cautiously until they obtain their critical view – the perfect plane through which they have the access they require to operate. If they move too quickly or carelessly, they risk complications and so, before surgery can begin, a patient must agree to these potential risks, or the surgeon cannot proceed.
I think our hearts are hidden and Christ, Himself, is our divine surgeon.
Knowing exactly what is buried beneath the mess, He slowly peels back our layers until we are revealed. He proceeds gently, knowing what we can handle and what will come later. He is patient beyond patient and capable beyond understanding. He, too, cannot proceed until we give our consent – but unlike the fallible surgeon, our healer can do no wrong. The God of this Universe knows our anatomy. He knows how to draw our hearts out of the tightest bondage and in to the greatest of freedoms.
So, I think it’s time to sign the consent form.
