Divinely Excavating the Depths

Buried deep within layers upon layers of earth are harmful chemicals. The ever-expanding world of science has developed technologies for detecting toxins so they can be excavated and removed.

But you have to know where to look to find them.

Spills, over time, can become forgotten. Those toxins have a way of seeping into underground caverns and crevices. Inconspicuous, they seep further still—getting buried deeper and deeper.

Can the same be said of wounds that run deep?

Life spills, causing destruction and pain. Those wounds heal… but they often leave scars. Over time, we bury their scars deep within our hearts. And we shove them into the far recesses of our minds, trying to forget what’s buried where. We move on, leaving remnants untended. Undetected, they fester into a harmful toxin.

But God sees every single one of them. He never forgets. And never relents. He knows right where they are.

In His goodness, grace, and perfect timing God attempts purification. He expertly excavates what has been buried or even forgotten. He doesn’t require funding or advanced technology, but He does need our cooperation.

That’s been my experience.

An unexpected happening occurred (don’t they always?) and I was suddenly confronted by the pain of an old wound. It seems there are varying kinds and degrees of relational pain from my divorce that linger. Wounds I thought long healed were, in fact, only buried. But I sensed God was bringing about that event in order to excavate and resurface that brokenness. I realized I had a choice: Would I ignore it and rebury it? Or would I allow God to bring about extraction?

That drilling can be ugly. Painful. But because He is a good, good Father and is continually working for our good, He purges the deepest, hidden places of our hearts—ever refining and perfecting us.

Surrendering to His will and His work allows Him access to rid the heart of all that hinders His best for us. For God can bring wholeness out of our brokenness. But we can’t run away from that brokenness. We have to step into it with God. Not guarding it, or denying it, but giving it over to Him.

I gave up the futility of keeping that pain buried. I then wrestled through the Spirit’s probing, penetrating questions and recognized my need for His intervention.

Jacob once had a wrestling he didn’t expect. He sent his traveling tribe across the Jabbok stream. He remained alone in the night when a man started wrestling with him (Genesis 32:24). Jacob, fully engaged, wrestled with all his might throughout the night. And was injured in the end. That force, though physical and external in nature, had a spiritual element to it—to bring about inner transformation.

I laid down that initial urge to fight and surrendered to the opportunity. After all, who can wrestle with God and not walk away with a limp?

Soon I felt the heavenly relief of being freed from a poison I didn’t even realize I had. That toxin, now graciously purged, can no longer harm me. Or surface when least expected.

All I can say, friend, is: When God comes drilling, let the excavation do His perfecting work.