Heart Journey: A Future With Hope

Today, I feel like I have turned a corner. I'm not completely healed or pain-free yet (and so I'm not yet where I want to be), but I can feel and know that I am certainly in a better place than I was five weeks ago. (And I'm not just saying that because I'm writing this at Starbucks for the first time in over a month!)

Yesterday, I was released to drive on my own, which I promptly did! The physician's assistant for my surgeon said every incision looks good and that all seems to be healing at the pace it should be. My cardiologist will continue to follow the blood issues, the surgeon will see me back in a year for some testing, and other than that, I am able to do a bit more. I have two more months of "lifting restrictions" and after that, I was told, "use good judgment." It felt really good and really weird to drive again on my own last night.

This morning, then, I drove myself to cardiac rehab. Rehab is something I've never done before but was highly recommended by my doctor, so I agreed to it. Yesterday, I was telling Cathy how I probably didn't really need rehab, that I was doing well and they would probably dismiss me when they saw how well I'm doing! Was I in for a surprise! No matter how much you've done before, you can always improve—that's one thing I learned. (That, and I shouldn't overestimate how well I'm doing.) There are a lot of things I can improve and I am thankful for the nurses there who will gently but firmly guide me to help me really get stronger.

In many ways, rehab is sort of like church ought to be. There are people to guide us as we get stronger. There are others who are in the same boat (at different stages of the "recovery" process) who cheer us on. There are even those who have gone before (in rehab's case, former patients) who cheer us on from afar—Hebrews calls them the "great cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1). I'm actually looking forward to seeing where rehab takes me and how the exercise there enhances the healing that is already taking place. Yes, God can even use rehab!

So the corner is turned; the future is beginning. I can begin to see life "after surgery" (something that has not always been easy to see). And that sort of vision makes all the difference. In a story I often tell at funerals, a father says to his son, "Without food, we can live for many days. Without hope, we cannot live an hour." That is true, and so today, I am thankful for a future with hope (Jeremiah 29:11).