Debridement

I'm a freelance medical writer, developing educational materials for pharmaceutical companies. My latest project is on wound healing, a new topic for me. As a queazy person, the images that accompany medical references on chronic wounds have been difficult to view. But the topic is interesting, and I always love learning something new. With this project, I've learned a new word: 'debridement'. Debridement is the excision of dead or infected tissue of the wound to promote healing. It's an important procedure. [And if you are strong-stomached, you can look up 'debridement' on Wikipedia and see a really gross picture. Note the part about the use of maggots for debridement. Ick, ick, ick.]

Anyway, as I continue my week of waiting before a biopsy, I see this waiting time is God's way of debriding my heart. He wants me to rely on Him, not on my self-sufficiency or control or will. He is surgically removing the necrotic and devitalized tissue to promote my healing, removing the rebellious corners of my heart so mine can be more like His.

Tear deeply, Lord. It hurts, but I want a heart like Yours. Give me strength to go through this and faith in your perfect plan.

Similar imagery is used in the Bible: the pruning of vines, the winnowing of grain, and the refining of precious metal.
A friend sent me this poem, copied from her devotional book two days ago:

"He sat by a fire of seven-fold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore,
And closer He bent with a searching gaze
As He heated it more and more.
He knew He had ore that could stand the test,
And he wanted the finest gold
To mould as a crown for the King to wear,
Set with gems with a price untold.
So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Tho' we fain would have said Him "Nay,"
And He watched the dross that we had not seen,
And it melted and passed away.
And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were so dim with tears,
We saw but the fire - not the Master's hand,
And questioned with anxious fears.
Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above,
That bent o'er the fire, tho' unseen by us,
With a look of ineffable love.
Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment's pain?
Ah, no! But He saw through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.
So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat,
Than was needed to make it pure."