Running the Race: Hospital Edition

“I’m afraid you need heart surgery to repair your mitral valve. The leak is severe…”

The words coming out of my cardiologist’s mouth floated in the air like thought bubbles over cartoon characters.

My stomach dropped as an emotional rug was pulled from under me.

Heart surgery? Me? But I don’t feel anything? What if I die?

His face disappeared as a movie played right in front of my eyes of the half marathons, triathlons, bike rides and leisurely walks I’d taken throughout the years.

“You have an appointment with the heart surgeon next week,” he said matter-of-factly.

I had to sign up for a new kind of race, one I did not choose. This time, instead of sprints, tempo and long runs, my practices entailed scans, tests and doctors’ visits.

Thankfully, I qualified for a robotic valve repair surgery, which meant a shorter hospital stay and a quicker recovery.

“You’ll be on your Peloton bike in three weeks!” the heart surgeon said with a big smile.

I tried to believe him and faked a smile. However, a war raged inside of me.

Trust, faith and confidence fought against fear, doubt, and anxiety.

I wanted to be strong for my family. I wanted to show them what faith looked like in real life.

It was time to find out if God’s promises were true and if all the years of “training” in my faith through prayer and Bible study worked.

My heart raced and butterflies swirled in the pit of my stomach as I thought about this, one morning during my quiet time with the Lord.

Suddenly these words fell in my heart like a warm embrace:

Don’t worry about anything; on the contrary, make your requests known to God by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving. Then God’s peace, passing all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds safe in union with Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:6-7

At that moment I made a decision. I decided to believe and to trust. I decided to believe in the Word of God and to trust in Him. I surrendered my health, my family, and my future at the foot of the Cross regardless of the risks of an open-heart surgery.

The dark cloud over my head lifted and peace overtook the anxiety in my heart.

The day of the surgery came, and my husband drove me to the hospital. We held hands and prayed as we waited for my turn.

My heart dropped when I heard my name. I kissed him, he hugged me tight, and I walked away without looking back. I was escorted to a small room where a team of doctors and nurses hovered over me.

My race was about to begin. Except this time, I didn’t run it alone. Jesus was there, warming my heart inside that cold hospital room.

Even though the surgery was successful it came with intense pain and discomfort, but thankfully I was discharged after only three days. The love and attention from my family and friends overpowered my aching body as I recovered.

My heart surgeon was right. Three weeks to the day of the surgery I got on my Peloton for a short ride.

My God was right. His peace, passing all my understanding, did keep my heart and mind safe throughout the whole process.

I know I’ll never need another heart surgery and I’m happy that race is over.

I also know that I’ll face many other races in my life, and I’m thrilled to report that I have the best Coach, and the best training program available.

I encourage you to give Him a call. He’s waiting with open arms.

The best part is: It’s free!