The Great Surgeon

It’s bright. The light right above me, shines directly into my eyes. Around me they’re dressed in all white. Each one wears a mask over their mouth and nose; as to not catch my horrid disease. I lay still. The table upon which I lay is made of cold steel. My naked torso shivers as I lay. No one speaks, not even I. I have seen this room before; unfortunately, too many times. I am afraid. What shall He say? Will there be hope?

Then, He enters. He too wears white. But unlike the others, His authority is proclaimed in every step He takes toward the operating table. He does not wear a mask, there is no need. In His right hand, he holds a scalpel. So sharp there is no tissue that can withstand.

“I see you have a disease.” He says.

“Yes I do. I don’t know what to do.” I say in an unsure voice.

“Well there is hope.” He answers, as if He knew what I was thinking.

I don’t reply.  I have heard these words before, but somehow, I’ve left this table only to be right back in the same position; diseased.

He marks the spot upon my skin in which He will make the incision.  Right above where my heart beats.  Beating, yes!  Quite fast!

He makes the proper incisions, and removes the disease.  I am awake during the surgery, He wants me to see the work He is doing.  There is no speaking while he operates, and just like that, the last stitches are implanted into my chest. It’s over.

“It is finished.” He explains. “Your disease is no more, but stay in touch!”

“I will.” I answer.

I get up from the table, and quietly walk out of the room.  He stays in the room, preparing the table for the next patient.  At that, I leave the Great Surgeon to fix whoever else is in need of an operation.