My CHD Can’t Take Everything from Me

My life is out of my control. Not the regular, we ran out milk, need to stop to get gas, my house is a mess, we’re always late for church, couldn’t get to Publix while chicken is on sale, Jack hit Chloe / Chloe hit Jack/ Jack tells me “Chloe hit me back!”, Joel has to work late and he just told me at 4:30, company is coming over 30 minutes earlier than expected, I never sent John & Rima a wedding card & they’re going into their 2nd year of marriage. UGH!

No, this is the my life is completely out of control & I am having more & more parts of my life taken from me. My Congenital Heart Disease has worsened each month. Pain is increasing, comfort – gone. My days are dictated by my disease, schedule – gone. I’m not allowed to drive anymore – freedom gone. Few people truly understand the circumstances – separation/loneliness.

But, my CHD cannot take away many things. It cannot separate me from the Father’s hand. Romans 8:39 says, “nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus Christ our Lord.”

My CHD cannot take away my identity, values, or my core beliefs in life. I value eternal life, I value my husband & children and family, I value Emmanuel Bible Church. I value my true friends who have stuck by me and admonished me when I have doubts of the Christian faith. I value a healthy lifestyle and running.

My CHD cannot take away my imagination or senses. Even during a treatment, my mind can use imagery & be on a quiet Saturday morning run through downtown, no cars, no traffic, I can meet other athletes & canine companions.

My CHD cannot take away my lifetime of memories.


Living with my CHD, I struggle daily. On my days I feel worse physically, more fatigue or having more stomach problems, I have to fight depression. Sometimes overwhelming sadness comes out of nowhere and I can’t control the tears. Once it starts, I can’t mask my feelings. I really hate that I can’t hide it, because so many people kind of look at me with that “huh?” look. Like, they know I feel horrible, and they feel burdened for me, but they can’t think of something to say to help me.

Maybe I am too hard on people or too much of a burden on family & friends. But this is such a difficult journey. I feel like Frodo carrying the ring halfway across the world. I would like to have one day I can forget that I am terminally ill, that without 2 new compatible organs, I am slowly dying. Without this miracle, Joel will be a widower and Chloe & Jack will lose their 2nd mother.

I feel like wherever I go, I pull people down. I want to encourage and uplift people. And maybe I do, but for today, it’s just not happening.