The Heart

A friend asked if I had written anything to process what had happened. I hadn’t at the time and this is still a rough draft of my thoughts. That evening I sat down to started writing, and with the first few words I began to weep for the first time. I hadn’t cried yet. Really cried. I teared up a bit as I talked on the phone with my aunt while we were in the emergency room. I teared up a bit as I left the heart hospital to drive home once the stent was put in. But that was it. I am a crier and I didn’t cry.

About a month ago my Dad’s heart broke in a manner of speaking. He had a heart attack. I watched as he grabbed his chest in pain. I watched as the heart monitor kept showing more and more that something was wrong. I watched as they wheeled him to another room on a gurney he barley fit on because he is so tall.  I watched as they gave him life saving drugs that also had the power to potentially kill him. I watched for five days. I watched my dad lay there with a broken heart.

He has healed now.  He even has some metal reinforcement. And while I wasn’t the one in the hospital bed, my heart broke at the same time. That was my dad lying there.  My first thoughts were of my grandfather, whom I never met because he died for the very same reason we were taking my father to the hospital. I thought about what that did to his family and how they were forever changed. I thought about how very grateful I was to be home when it happened. I thought about how common heart attacks were these days and how much progress has been made with technology and medicine and how none of that mattered at the moment because this was not a common thing because this was my dad.  I thought about how Peter was out of the country and how he might react when he heard. I thought about how I was supposed to get coffee with my dad the next day, but that wouldn’t be happening anymore. I thought about how I would rather be anywhere else than that hospital room, but that was also the only place I wanted to be.

The heart is a great many deal of things to us. In a physical sense, it is the source of life. It is the muscle that pumps blood to the rest of our body to keep us alive.  In a Spiritual sense, it is the source life. It is where our passions, desires and feelings life.

While both of these hearts can be the strongest parts in our body, both of them need great care. Both are fragile. When either of our hearts isn’t working correctly, our entire body suffers. Both have the ability to break. They can break for any number of reasons. Some we have control of and some are no fault of our own. Sometimes they need to be broken in order to be set straight again. Other times we can see the ways the broken pieces are put back together to show a beautiful new heart.

I am praising God that he is the creator and healer of both of our hearts.

“Guard your heart for it is the wellspring of life.”