The Surgery No One Wants to Schedule

Surgeons have long understood something remarkable about abscesses. When infection pools beneath the skin, the body walls it off, forming a pocket of pressure and poison. The tissue around it grows inflamed, tender to the slightest touch. Left alone, it only worsens. The standard treatment, taught in every medical school, is summed up in a Latin phrase that dates back centuries: ubi pus, ibi evacua. Where there is pus, evacuate it. The surgeon must lance the wound, drain the infection, and leave it open so it can heal from the inside out.

It hurts. Patients dread it. But every physician knows that a sealed-over wound with infection still trapped inside is far more dangerous than an open one that has been cleaned.

Unforgiveness works the same way in the human heart. We wall off the hurt, seal it over, and try to move on. But the bitterness stays trapped underneath, building pressure, poisoning everything it touches. Our relationships grow inflamed. Our spirits grow tender to the slightest provocation.

Forgiveness is the lancing of that wound. It is not pretending the injury never happened. It is allowing God to open what we have sealed shut, to drain the infection of resentment so that genuine healing can begin from the inside out.

The writer of Hebrews warned, "See to it that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many." The Great Physician knows that what stays buried does not stay quiet. Let Him open it. Let Him drain it. Let Him heal you from the inside out.