Saturday, September 16, 2017

“I don’t think that we’re meant to understand it all the time. I think that sometimes we just have to have faith.”

~ Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember

I hear the words from the doctor but seeing the picture of my husband’s heart with the main artery 90% blocked makes it real. I wonder if that’s part of the reason why they give patients these packets of information. I flip the page to a second image of his heart taken after the stent was inserted the previous day and breathe another silent prayer. Thank you.

This man I love is the most unlikely candidate to be lying in a hospital bed talking about blockages and cardiovascular clinics. He is physically active–he is a hike leader and climbs mountains, for goodness sake!–he has never smoked, he’s easy-going, he eats a mostly plant-based diet, he doesn’t have an immediate family history of heart disease–and yet here he is.

These pictures, and other things in the packet we’ve been given, changes things. We’re moving into a new normal. Disbelief (gobsmacked: that’s a good word to describe how I feel) begins to give way to reality as we walk the corridors of the hospital hand-in-hand, getting enough activity to ensure all is well before they will allow him to leave the hospital.

Buoyed with gratitude for so many little and large things, carried by faith in the One who loves this man–and me–most and best and who still has the best and perfect plan, we return to his room and watch the clock. A few minutes after noon–the appointed hour when the doctor said he could leave–the nurse comes, removes the tube in his arm, and pronounces him sprung.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

I tuck the packet of information into the Vera Bradley bag along with the rest of his things. Gerry bids farewell to his roommate and we walk on, eager to put it all behind us but knowing it will remain our faithful companion.

As we wait for the elevator, my mind goes back to the place where my reading plan took me in the bible this morning: John 14:1. “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me.”

It is well.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. Oh my gosh Linda, I am also stunned by this, but praising God for the miracle of stents and cardiac specialists. Praying for you both my friend

    1. Praising God, indeed. Appreciate the prayer cover, my friend.

  2. My husband had a stent implanted in 1999. He is doing well now in 2017. Unlike with Gerry, we weren’t surprised by the necessity for this procedure.

    “He will be fine,” she says by faith. 😉

    1. I’m so glad your hubby is well and this encourages me, Marian. Thank you.

  3. I’m also gobsmacked every time life changes in a matter of moments, as has happened to you and Gerry. Your faith is so solid, so inspirational, and I have no doubt its strength will embrace you with peace. Sending my prayers to join in that embrace.

    1. Prayers much appreciated. Thank you, dear Mary Jo.

  4. I’ve had one too. Blessings and prayers to you and Gerry, Linda.

    1. Ah, Karen, I had no idea. I’ve gained a new and deep appreciation for the medical advances that make such a thing even possible. I’m sure you feel the same. Have a blessed day, my friend.

  5. Been there. It does put things into perspective though doesn’t it? The world of Cardiac Medicine is amazing. Have faith. Wishing Gerry a speedy recovery and hoping that you can rest again now that the procedure is done.

    1. Oh yes, Celine. Perspective and priorities become very clear. We are blessed to live in such a time as this, aren’t we? And faith . . . yes, always.

  6. Our lives can be changed in a blink of an eye. Prayers be with you both

    1. Prayers always much appreciated, Sister.

  7. Linda, I’ve been quietly reading and enjoying your blog for two years. The simplicity of your blog, the lovely photographs taken by you, and the deeply spiritual nature of your messages have added greatly to my daily life. I am so happy to hear that your dear Gerry is going to be fine. Wishing you both the best of health and much happiness.

    A friend from the States!

    1. Karen, thanks so very much for your kind words that have blessed me this morning. Thanks also for reading my daily musings. I do so appreciate you–and am popping over to check out your blog.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.