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."

Staring at Mortality

One week ago today, my doctor found a lump. Yup, I'm not even 40, I lead a healthy lifestyle, I do the monthly exams (okay, just sort of), etc. etc. So I was completely shocked. Yes, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer a mere two years ago, but not until her mid-60s.

The very next day, I went in for a mammogram and ultrasound. The radiologist reported to me that his findings were suspicious, so now I'm scheduled for a biopsy with a breast surgeon. (I didn't even know there was such a specialty!)

AND now I have a whole week to sit here and worry.

And worry I have done. But I'm also fighting my worry. I have just finished a year of the biggest stressor in my life, and I have learned all sorts of unforgettable lessons about God's faithfulness and care. I have seen firsthand that He answers prayer above and beyond our wildest hopes and expectations. I have learned to rely on Him as my refuge and strength in the face of devastation. In fact, just days before my doctor's shocking find, I had said to my two prayer buddies, "This lesson will be a Standing Stone throughout my life. I will never forget what I have learned about God's amazing care and faithfulness, and I will never doubt again. If He could get me through THAT, then He can get me through anything."

Me and my big mouth? Possibly He was using that circumstance to prepare me for something else big -- a close look at my own mortality. Even if the lump comes to nothing, I am being forced to again prove my allegiance to Him during this week of waiting for further news.

Lord, my allegiance IS with You. Please help me fight my anxieties and fears. Help me to rest in You, knowing that Your grace is sufficient for all my needs. I wait on You, as the watchmen wait for the dawn. Help me loosen my grasp on this world, even on my own family. My love for them and desire to care for them is nothing compared to Your love for them and ability to care for them. I trust in You.

I have also prayed over and over again these past few days that I might more fully feel His presence. And He answers prayer. I have felt an outpouring of love from the close friends who know what's going on. An kind email full of thoughtfully chosen Bible verses. A phone call offering encouragement and practical information. A surprise visit with a hug, a prayer, and a Bible passage specially marked just for me. An offer to accompany me to the doctor appointment. And the most heartfelt prayer time I've ever shared with my own mother. These women are speaking with God's words and hugging with God's arms and praying the thoughts on His mind. God's goodness makes me cry even more than my own mortality does. I am blessed beyond belief with the wise and godly women who surround and uplift me and the God who put them in my life.

On a lighter note, it's funny how everything reminds me of breast cancer. Like using a knife to remove all those eyes from the potatoes I was preparing for dinner. Lumpectomy? I was more careful than usual to excise as little healthy potato tissue as possible.

And I'm wondering how God will bless me this time beyond my wildest imaginings and thinking how great it would be to end up not only cancer-free but with really big boobs.
Just throwing the idea out there, God!