The Healing of a Mended Heart
Just over a month ago I underwent open heart surgery, it was the third heart surgery I’ve had and hopefully the last one I’ll need. My previous surgeries happened before I turned two years old, so needless to say I don’t remember them. The scars left by the operations I had as an infant represented parental worry stemming from profound love of me; their first born child, deep concern from family and friends, impeccable skill and care from healthcare professionals and abundant prayers lifted up in my name. Intellectually, that knowledge about my first two surgeries was sewn into my heart; it has always been a part of who I am as a rather unique child of God. Certainly, their results impacted my life. I suffered a stroke that weakened my left side because of one of the many different procedures I had in the first two years of my life and had some learning disabilities growing up, but the physical pain and suffering of heart surgery was not part of my childhood or adolescence. In a stran...