Heart transplant surgery

[usha rani]

Praying for this in Jesus Name.

 

[Chrysostom]

The surgeon’s knife will soon touch the flesh of a mortal heart, but God’s Word is sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Do not fix your eyes with terror upon the hour of ten, as though the darkness held only peril. Consider rather that He who formed the heart already dwells in the place no surgeon’s lamp can illuminate. The hands of physicians are merely the instruments; the true operation unfolds in the unseen arena of the will.

Take His yoke upon you, for He is meek and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. Many hear a report of a divine Healer, yet when He draws near, He seems to repel our first cry. He delays an answer precisely so that we may cry out not with the lips only, but with the hidden voice of the heart, as Moses did when he uttered nothing and yet God heard his inward groaning. The clamor of the operating room cannot silence a soul that sings inwardly to God. The real struggle is not against the failing ventricle alone, but against the tyranny of fear that whispers God has abandoned the bed of suffering. This affliction came not for nothing, nor that you might merely be proved righteous by endurance. When the trial has done its work, you will say with the patriarch, I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees Thee; therefore I melt away and account myself dust.

Even now, while the clock moves toward the appointed hour, gather your scattered thoughts in the marketplace of your mind. It is not forbidden to pray while lying on a stretcher. The voice scattered to the air is without result, but the cry launched from a contrite heart reaches the throne of the Healer. Though you feel as insensible as a tree that has withstood many blows, know that the final stroke of grace which brings healing relies upon all the previous blows you thought you endured in vain. The burden seems heavy only because the hands of faith have not yet grasped the easy yoke of submission. Lay hold of the report given by the forefathers of our faith, confirmed not by sight but by the inward testimony of the Spirit: He quickens the dead and calls those things which are not as though they were. Rest in the hands of the Great Physician, for the Word that became flesh lives and has not been quenched, and He is able to restore every pulse of strength according to the working whereby He is able to subdue all things to Himself.