Forgiveness is the answer to the child’s dream of a
miracle by which what is broken is made whole
again, what is soiled is made clean again.
DAG HAMMARSKJÖLD
I had a treasured older friend who used to say, “Don’t pick at it or it won’t get well.” My little rescue dog, Munchie, was living proof. When I started fostering him, he had some serious skin issues. There were “hot spots” on various parts of his body. He had been partially shaved so these sores could be exposed and treated. But despite the medication, they were still bothering him so much that he was constantly trying to lick his wounds. This, of course, just made matters worse and didn’t let healing take place, so his rescue group gave me a cone. It was a plastic contraption shaped something like a megaphone and fit over his head. Theoretically, when this cone was tied in place it would keep the little guy from gnawing at his owies.
I soon discovered this particular cone didn’t quite stop Munchie from picking at his wounds. Nor was his current medicine keeping them calmed down. I did some makeshift bandaging to get us through the night and scooted him off to my own vet the very next day.
Munchie’s new doctor promptly recommended a slightly different medication and a new, larger cone. In short order, Munchie started feeling much better. He still wanted to lick at himself, but thankfully the new cone didn’t let him. It was cumbersome and I wished I could remove it sooner, but I realized he had to wear it so his wounds would heal. It took time, but gradually the sores got better.
Munchie’s healing wasn’t a straight shot. There were a couple of minor flare-ups. I had to cone him again, though briefly. My vet also helped identify the source of his trouble. He determined that Munchie was severely allergic to fleas. Even one fleabite could cause a significant problem. He urged that I take precautions to keep all the four-foots in my household flea-free. My dogs are now on a once-a-month pill, and my kitties get a monthly topical application. These procedures have done the trick. I have now adopted Munchie and he is a healthy, happy dog.
Skin sores aren’t the only wounds that may keep festering when licked. This same truth applies to emotional “owies” as well. I found this out firsthand with respect to a horribly painful hot spot of guilt involving my mother.
Mom was battling chronic leukemia for the last few years of her life. She had other health issues as well. At one point she was dealing with pneumonia, and had been hospitalized. When she came home, she still wasn’t feeling right. A caregiver and I thought it might be due to anxiety and her weakened physical state. I reassured her over the phone and got feedback that she seemed to be doing better.
I wasn’t quite at peace, though. A thought niggled at my brain. Could she be having heart problems? But Mom preferred alternative therapies to Western medicine and fought going to more traditional doctors. Would she even be willing to see a cardiologist, and undergo testing?
It crossed my mind to call Mom’s primary care physician and tell her what Mom’s symptoms were. But I was in the midst of finishing a book manuscript. Mom had just been in the hospital, right? She was doing a bit better, wasn’t she? And she had nurses at home. I pushed the thought aside and let things be.
A few days later, I spoke with Mom on a Sunday afternoon. She sounded upbeat and strong. I hung up and plowed into my manuscript work. Two hours later, a phone call shattered my calm. Mom had been rushed to the hospital. It turned out she’d had a life-threatening heart attack.
Munchie had a couple of hot spots on his rear end, tail, and leg. I had a monster hot spot of guilt on my own heart. Why had I been so self-consumed? Why hadn’t I listened to that warning voice in my head? Why hadn’t I at least called her doctor to express concern? Maybe Mom would have resisted a checkup and tests…but she might have agreed. And if she had, perhaps the heart attack could have been averted and she wouldn’t be fighting for her life in the ER!
Amazingly, at the age of 90, Mom survived this near-death experience and a procedure to deal with some blocked arteries. And gradually, I let up on gnawing at my guilt hot spot. I understood that even though I blew it, God forgave me. I understood that Jesus died to cover my sins of selfishness and negligence (and all my others) with His blood. But the wound still burned with my own self-condemnation, and my impulse was to keep on licking. I had to fight this…and as Mom slowly seemed to improve, it got a bit easier to do.
I hoped the surgical procedure and Mom’s follow-up medication and care would buy her an extra two or three years of life. It was not to be. Five months later she started going into repeated congestive heart failure. Her cardiologist told me her heart was tired and couldn’t go on. With Mom’s consent, she was put into hospice and died days later.
Needless to say, my guilt hot spot flared again. I was tempted to chew it into a red-hot boil. But I knew it wasn’t what she would have wanted, or what God desired. I knew I needed to let God “cone” me anew with the pardon Jesus purchased, and gradually, I did. I have also tried to honor Mom’s memory and use the resources she left me in ways that would please and honor her and my Lord.
Munchie the dog didn’t realize gnawing at his hot spots would make them worse, not better. I did, but I still had to fight the impulse to do so. I have to think the apostle Paul might have faced the same struggle. His hot spot of guilt came from having persecuted the early church and having stood by while Stephen was martyred. But he also understood God’s grace. That’s why he wrote in 1 Timothy 1:13-14, “Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”
Munchie has been with me a year and a half now. He is owie-free. His shaved fur has grown back lush and plush. But he and my other four-foots still need their once-a-month flea treatment to keep the problem from recurring.
I also need ongoing “flea treatment” for the sins that try to jump on me and bite me and give me spiritual sores. I need to confess to God on an ongoing basis. And I need to receive the forgiveness He so freely gives—so I can be lush and plush in serving Him.
Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water (Hebrews 10:22).
Have you ever kept picking at a wound of guilt? How did this impact your physical and emotional health? How did it affect you spiritually? Do you need to ask forgiveness of others and God, and let Him “cone” and heal you?