Where the Heart Is

First, let me say, he's OK.

T called me yesterday afternoon. He was using a scary, small voice usually reserved for those who have either just thrown up or seen a 4-foot spider. He asked me to pick up the kid and then said he didn't feel good. Like really not good. Like "maybe I should go to the ER" not good.

I did two things very fast. Pray and drive. I prayed a lot. I picked him up and he looked OK, which was reassuring but he kept complaining his chest hurt. T never gets sick. Like me, he hasn't seen the inside of a hospital since elementary school tonsil removal. I was not enjoying the sudden change.

We swung by for the kid, who was volunteering at church, headed straight for the hospital. There they ran tests, took x-rays, took blood, gave nitro. Good news and bad news about nitro. If you're having a heart attack, it helps. If you're not --- well... He went from a nice healthy shade of Anglo-Irish pink to a shade only described as pea soup mixed with sour milk. His BP dropped a bunch. That wasn't funny.

While we were there, our pastor showed up. He prayed, yes, but he also just hung out and talked, like I'm sure he's done a million times for others in our church. He didn't give me the "you're not being appropriate face" when I teased T to make him laugh, or when I offered to heart punch him to get everything straightened out. He gave me a gentle hug, nothing too dramatic. He joked with us. He left only when it was time to get back for Wednesday night service, promising to return after. I sent K with him, feeling confident that there would be no serious report from the doctors.

After a little over 2 hours they cleared T to go home -- heart looks fine, take some Motrin, get in to a regular doc to track down the cause of the pain. I took him home and then doubled back for K. She told me then that she loved our church. By the way, she hadn't even told anyone in youth group that her dad was in the ER -- she was surprisingly calm. Like me, she felt in her spirit that there was nothing to worry about.

I, too, love our church. In fact, I'm not sure love is a big enough word for what I feel. After so many years, people, buildings and denominations, I feel that I've come home at last. It isn't just the pastoral staff, who are also friends, it's the warmth of the people who attend. There is a depth of trust there that I've never found anywhere else. The whole service prayed for us last night and no less than a dozen people asked me how he was when I picked K up. And what do you know? They weren't just being nosy.

T's heart is safe and healthy and mine is with him always. And together, the heart of my family is safe in the care of God's good people and a little church in western Wyandotte County. Today that's more than enough blessing for me.