Nestled in the arms of the recliner. Legs outstretched in front; body tilted back. She can see laid out to the left of her chair are the doctor’s tools. Some of the instruments are rather sharp, even fearsome, but the patient is not afraid. It’s operation time. He is healing her. It is good.
The Doctor’s favorite scalpel is a battered and marked up Bible. The patient spends a lot of time with this book; writing notes upon notes in the margins regarding things he points out to her during their sessions. Sometimes she takes the words and comments to heart; other times they get filed away until her wounds break open yet again. The Doctor remarks his patient is rather hard of hearing during some of their consultations. Maybe she also needs hearing aids?
The therapies are not convenient and often not comfortable. Keeping further infections at bay is critical. But healing comes from brokenness. This Surgeon will not turn her away, regardless of her illness. She can be made whole.
This operating room is sacred space. It is here, in the quiet, that God pulls her out of herself, away from her own worries and upheavals and into the Universe where He rules. She needs clarity, especially on those days when she wanders through His Book and it seems as dry as dirt (often a match for her own soul). His plans are far greater than her short attention span can fathom. Her home remedies are futile.
Just a warning, God’s work while she’s in the chair can be painful. There are numerous times when God has told her in no uncertain terms to repent, to eat humble pie, and to let go of prized projects. He nudges her to remember that He alone is the expert with the scalpel, not her. “For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.” (Hebrews 4:12)
Despite the pain, this is the one place in the world where she knows she is guarded, protected and secure. Healing is possible. “Whoever dwells in the recliner of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’” (Psalm 91:1-2) In this space, she is consistently, heard, valued, and loved. She is safe in the Surgeon’s arms.
For suggested additional spiritual healing, try Sharon Garlough Brown’s book “Sensible Shoes”