A Story of Compassion

I recently came across a story that I was asked to write for a book that was being made by my daughter's 3rd grade class and their parents. That was 14 years ago. As I read this story after several years, I was again touched by the compassion that was bestowed upon me and could not help but find myself wanting to share this story with all of you.

I am no longer the person that wrote this story (back then), but feel that I have been completely restored by the grace of God. It didn't happen in a day, a week or a month. It took years, but God's mercies are new each day and for that I am eternally thankful!

A Story of Compassion

I would like to share a story about a woman who was once extremely compassionate to me during a time in my life when I was very fragile and struggling to get through each day, and sometimes what seemed to be each minute.

About 6 years ago (about 14 as I write this now) I encountered a problem with my heart. I would be going about my business through out the day and all of the sudden my heart would start racing and not slow down. It would happen as quickly as someone flipping on a light switch. I was aware that my father had a similar problem with his heart, so I called my mother to find out what to do when my heart would race. She was able to share with me a way to slow my heart rate and encouraged me to see a doctor. The first time this ever happened, Jaralyn was just six weeks old. After many rapid heart rate attacks and more than enough visits to the ER, I received the doctor's diagnosis (Supra Ventricular Tachycardia or SVT) and was put on a beta blocker to slow my heart rate. I was informed that I would have to have an operative procedure done (Radio Frequency Ablation) to fix the rapid heart beats. However, I was expecting another baby at the time and this was not an option until the baby was born. I soon found myself in the ER while pregnant with a stubborn rapid rate they could not get under control. My heart was beating a consistent 220 beats per minute. After several attempts to slow the heart naturally, they told me they wanted to give me a shot of medication that would stop my heart for a second and restart it. I was completely against this and wanted to do everything in my power to protect my baby. With a few more attempts we were finally able to slow my heart without the medication. In order to control the rapid heart rates in the future, I was put on even larger amounts of medication to keep my heart at a slow pace. Not only did it slow my heart rate, but it slowed down everything else in my system causing me to become very depressed. The medication was supposed to be safer for myself and the baby over having the rapid heart rates.

Approximately five months after my baby was born, I was scheduled for the operation. I was still heavily medicated, depressed and now having overwhelming times of fear which caused me to have anxiety attacks. Because I had little ones at home, I would need help with my household duties and taking care of the children. My mother-in-law, Jean, offered to help out. Little did she know what she was getting in to.

The operation was a day surgery event believe it or not. The day came, but not easily. I was a complete wreck as I needed to be off the medication for 24 hours before the operation and my heart was now going into withdrawal and racing constantly. There was a good chance I could come out of the operation with a pace maker, something I did not want at the age of 29. The operation took longer than expected, 3-4 hours turned into almost 7 1/2 hours, but was successful to the best of the doctor's knowledge. It was tedious the doctor said, but he was able to accomplish what he needed and spare me the pace maker. Time would be a factor in telling if it was one hundred percent successful. I was told that I would no longer need the medication and that I was not to take it anymore. When I came home, my heart would race from not having the medication to slow it down. At the time, I was unsure if it was from the lack of medication, or that my heart was going into a SVT. I would become very fearful that something would happen to me if my heart continued to race. I would not eat anything with sugar or caffeine that would cause my heart rate to increase in even the slightest little bit. I had become extremely sensitive to everything and had lost an unhealthy amount of weight. I became even more depressed and had very unhealthy thinking patterns due to what was happening. I was put back on the heart medication and an anti-depressant and was weaned off of them slowly. It took me several years, but I was determined that I was not staying on medication I did not need to be on.

Each day my mother-in-law, Jean, would come over to help with the work and the children. Sometimes she would just sit with me because I was afraid to be alone. It had now been several weeks after the surgery and my depression and fear allowed me to become even more dysfunctional and somewhat paralyzed with fear. Every day, Jean would give me a different bible verse written on paper and she would make me keep it in my pocket all day long. She would also have me repeat it to her several times through out the day. She encouraged me to trust in the Lord every moment of every day. She would put on praise music and have me listen to the songs and even make me sing along...spoken words out loud do wonders. She would pray with me and pray for me. She gently forced me to do things that I did not want to do and encourage me along the way. She held my hand while I face my fears head-on and encouraged me to trust that God was right there and that He had much more in store for my life. She would literally walk me through a normal day, spending countless hours at our home, holding me up sometimes physically as well as spiritually, all the while taking a tremendous amount of time out of her own schedule to do all these things for me. She never complained or made me feel bad for the unhealthy way I was thinking, but she always had a happy heart, encouraging me and showing me the unconditional love of God.

As each new day would come, we would pray and walk forward in faith. In time, the days would get a little bit better and eventually I was strong enough to take care of my children and house again. 

Because of the compassion that she had selflessly shown me and because of her love for the Lord, she reached out to me and through her help and the Lord's, I was able to become a healthy, strong person again. A spiritual and physical healing had taken place. For this, I am so very thankful. I pray that the Lord would bless her abundantly for the way she has been a blessing to me.