The heart of the matter


Since the dawn of time, nothing has inspired more writing than a good breakup.  Romeo and Juliet was kind of a doozy (talk about a break up gone wrong).  Don't even get me started with music.  I mean, would country music even exist without breakups?  Would Taylor Swift's musical career?  I digress. My point is, I've been doing a lot of writing and it's been coming from a place of great hurt and devastation.

This morning at church my good friend Scott prayed over me and he took my hands and he looked me square in the eyes and said, "You don't have time for this distraction.  And that's all it is.  A distraction. Let it go."  Then I came home and  called my dad.  But first I cried and snotted all over Scott.  I think after all these weeks I need to buy him a new shirt.  

Oh this topic could be a blog in and of itself.  You see Bernie (yup, real name) knew about David all along.  He saw it within the first five minutes.  And he tried to tell me.  And I got, yanno angry because parents are NEVER right, especially not dads, and especially not MY dad.  So I didn't call my dad for about 3 months.  I didn't want him to know he was right (of course he already knew).  I didn't want him to know I was broken hearted (of course he already knew) and  most of all, I didn't want him to know I had failed at one more thing (of course he didn't think I had).  Sometimes, that thing we avoid the most is the thing we NEED the most. 

Because here's what my dad said.  

"You're MY daughter.  You're stronger than this and you're better than this and you just have to cut it loose."

I hear the collective screams of everyone on my team saying "WE'VE BEEN TELLING YOU THIS FOR MONTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  But you know, when your dad says it, then you kinda don't have a choice.  I mean really, he's my DAD.  He's 70+.  You don't argue.  You just DO.  

I'm his only child.  He's not exactly excited with my current state of heartbreak but he tells it like he sees it (I came by it honestly people).   

No amount of dwelling is going to make this situation better.  

Today in church Chris Overstreet talked about asking God for a heart transplant.  Not the kind you see on TV where there's a literal physical beating heart being transported in a cooler, but the supernatural kind, where you pray to God to change your heart

Well this really rang my bell because this is all I've been praying for for the better part of two months.  

So it was no surprise when some very beautiful, powerful women came to lay hands and pray over me, I asked for my heart to be healed.  Chris Overstreet said, "If there's any part of your body that is broken and needs healing, let us pray for it now."  Well my heart, it's broken.  Shattered.  But... I could see the light.  I just needed that tiny push over the edge.  So these women came and laid hands on me, one of them being LeeAnn, also known as Marlee's "real mom" (whatevs!)... I looked her square in the face and just said "My heart." And she began to pray for my healing.

Now y'all know I'm not any sort of religious weirdo, right?

Here's what happened.  These three women all laid hands on me, prayed for my heart, prayed for my healing.  OK fine.  That's "swell."  And then we went back to singing and doing our church thing.   And my heart, it um, started to hurt.  Like as in, "Call the doctor, I think I'm in cardiac arrest,"  kind of hurt. No joke, I was clutching at my heart.  It was beating so hard I was pretty sure my rib cage was going to burst.  

It scared me.

But I let it go, and let it happen. 

I uhhhhhhhhhhhh, surrendered it to God.

Cuz I'm so good at surrendering control right?

Here's the thing.  How could I POSSIBLY be scared?  I was getting EXACTLY what I had prayed for. 

A heart transplant.

And I stood there with everyone singing and praying around me and I was getting dizzy and lightheaded and I continued to stand there in absolute stillness and hold my heart.  I was almost channeling my OWN power and my OWN strength to transplant my OWN heart. 

Wait, what?

That's just weird.  

Right?

Not really.  Because..... wait for it.... God put the power in me.  Of course it was there all along.  All these weeks of suffering, whining, CRYING (My God the tears!  The never ending tears!).... all I needed to do was  surrender  and as soon as I did that, the power became mine.  And in that power I harvested it and let it alllllllllllllllllllllll go.

And my heart began to calm.

My body began to adjust to my newly transplanted heart.

Kinda crazy, right?

Yup, I know it is.  But stay with me, because this ride is JUST getting started and I cannot wait to see where we go next.  

Here's the tricky part.  As we know, bodies can reject transplants.  Am I going to choose to let this one take, or am I going to be "the enemy" inside my own mind that spits this new heart out???

I am my father's daughter, and therefore I only have one choice.

"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I built my life."  JK Rowling

One heartbeat at a time.



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