A Year With God, Day 43 of 366

I wanted to give a personal example of how God healed me, as an addendum to my last post.

I was born with a heart defect.  There was a hole between the ventricles of my heart.  Ordinarily, this hole should have closed before birth, but in my case it didn't.  So the heart would pump blood to my lungs, and then, instead of pumping it out to my body, it kept going back to the lungs again.  By the time I was three years old, my heart was the size of a full-grown adult's.

I'm not sure how it looked to my family, except that I tired easily and often fell asleep in unusual places, like behind the couch or under a cardboard box.  My sisters tell me that they often searched all over for me, only to find me snoozing safely later. 

I'm not sure how my parents discovered the problem.  My mother knew something was wrong, and insisted that the doctor follow up on it.  So, just after my third birthday, I went in for open heart surgery.

We had to travel to the biggest city in the state, hours away from home.  It must have been very scary for my mother.  But, if I recall the story correctly, our pastor was there at that time for some reason--dental work, perhaps?.  And a family friend was studying nursing at the hospital where I was sent, and she was able to observe the operation.  And many of our neighbors donated blood on my behalf.

I could tell stories of the bits and peices I remember of that time, but that's not the point.  The point is that my family and friends were praying for me, and I recovered and grew up healthy as any other child.  When I was eighteen, a specialist told me that if it weren't for the scar on my chest, no one would know I'd had surgery.

I believe that my family had faith in God.  Does the fact that I was not miraculously cured make that faith any less sincere?  I think not.

After the surgery, I was part of at least one long-rang medical study.  I went in for periodic check-ups throughout my childhood.  I had EKGs and Echo-cardiograms, and had my heart listened to by dozens of doctors and doctors-in-training. 

The same surgery I had is now performed on new-born babies.  And I am proud to be part of making that happen--though a very small part indeed.

I imagine my parents not knowing if I would recover, not knowing if I would grow up, not knowing if I'd be healthy, and I think how scary that must have been.

But now, other parents in that same situation can have reassurance that their children can grow up strong and have perfectly healthy lives.

And I choose to believe that is part of God's plan.  And I am honored to be part of that plan.