Gratitude and Thanksgiving
Many know about my ordeal these last two weeks. I haven’t posted anything since I had surgery. My head was foggy and body completely achy. I’ll share that if you’ve seen any ER shows or done any google searching for open heart surgery…well you understand what it all means and looks like. I had asked beforehand for a visual understanding of exactly what the surgery would be like…they asked if I wanted graphic details….sure….well that was gross. 😷 My bounce back was quick. My recovery was timely. They wanted me to count to 3 to get up, I did it in 1. My walking was quickly around the entire hospital floor. I was supposed to go up the steps once….I did it three times. I helped encourage the other patients while they struggled walking, giving them their own cheer squad. That’s what I was made to do.
When the surgeon came in, we talked. I’ll tell you he was fantastic and he allowed me to accelerate. He mentioned I could likely go home Saturday, Sunday or even Monday. I told him I really wanted to make it to church on Sunday…he nodded but made it happen.
This was what I read to the congregation on Sunday:
GRATITUDE AND THANKSGIVING
There are moments in life when the future stops being an idea… and becomes a question you can feel in your chest.
Not a distant question… not a philosophical one… but a real, pressing, almost uncomfortable awareness of what tomorrow might hold… or might not.
Most people don’t sit in that space for long.
We stay busy. We stay distracted. We tell ourselves we’ll figure it out later. The uncertainty gets tucked away behind routines, responsibilities, and plans that feel solid enough to trust.
Until something shakes it.
Two weeks ago… mine was shaken.
Not in theory… not in reflection… but in reality.
I had the rare and sobering experience of watching my life pass before my eyes. Not as some dramatic phrase we casually say… but as something deeply personal, deeply real, and deeply unsettling. The kind of moment where everything slows down… and clarity shows up whether you’re ready for it or not.
The doctors were direct.
It was close.
Closer than I realized at the time… closer than I would have ever imagined stepping into that race. There was a very real possibility that it could have ended right there… doing something I love… in a moment that would have changed everything for the people I love.
And that’s the part that stays with me.
Not just the physical reality of what happened… but the emotional weight of what could have been left behind.
…
When you come that close… something shifts.
You start to see things differently.
The future, which once felt like something to plan and shape, suddenly feels like something to be grateful for… one day at a time.
You begin to realize how much of life we assume will be there tomorrow.
Conversations we think we’ll have later.
Time we think we’ll make.
Moments we think will wait for us.
But not all of them do.
…
And yet… here I am.
Still here.
Still breathing.
Still given another opportunity to step forward into whatever comes next.
And I don’t believe that’s by accident.
I believe there were two forces that carried me through that moment.
Love… and prayer.
The love of my family… the kind that anchors you even when you’re unaware of it in the moment. The kind that gives you something to hold onto when everything else feels like it’s slipping. I have no doubt that their presence in my life… their connection to me… pulled me through more than I could ever measure.
And then there were the prayers.
Quiet prayers… spoken prayers… urgent prayers lifted up on my behalf.
Prayer warriors who stepped into the gap when I couldn’t.
People who believed, who asked, who interceded… when I didn’t even know I needed it most.
And somehow… in a way I can’t fully explain but fully believe…
those prayers mattered.
They weren’t just words.
They were strength.
They were covering.
They were part of the reason my story didn’t end that day.
…
So what do you do after something like that?
How do you step back into normal life when you’ve just seen how fragile it really is?
For me… it’s not about fear.
It’s about awareness.
A deeper appreciation for the days I’ve been given… and a stronger desire to use them well.
Not perfectly… not flawlessly… but intentionally.
To speak when it matters.
To show up when it counts.
To love more openly.
To live more honestly.
And maybe most importantly…
to recognize that every day moving forward is not something I’m owed…
it’s something I’ve been given.
BY THE WAY: The nurses that took care of me were amazing. Laughed at my silliness. Waiting for the final pieces for me to go, I had my jeans, running shoes on and my Run Eugene Run shirt. I did my final laps around…They told me I should be pushed out in a wheel…I told them I’d race them down the four flights of stairs. 🙃 She sighed….we walked down together…in the elevator.
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