Alison Strobel - The Heart of Memory

“I promise I’ll make her wait until you’re back. Seriously, they’re going to think you’re the one that’s sick pretty soon.”

He gave her a weak smile, then reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I love you, Van.”

“I love you, too. Don’t get all emotional on me, Shaun. I won’t be able to take it.”

He chuckled and stood, kissing her hand once more. “Alright, alright. Make sure she waits for me.”

“I promise.”

It turned out there was no need; it took another hour before Dr. Rockwell came back. When Shaun roused Savannah from her nap to hear the news, the dull ache of too little sleep pulsed in every muscle. She prayed she’d be able to rest again soon.

The look of tension in Shaun’s face was at odds with the gentle way he clasped her hand. Savannah was grateful for his strength; she didn’t know how she’d make it otherwise. “So what’s the story, doctor?” he asked. “Do you have any theories?”

“I do, yes. And I think it was a very good thing you came in tonight.” Dr. Rockwell uploaded the X-rays onto the computer beside the bed and took out her pen. She used it to point to the hazy image of Savannah’s lungs. “You can see the somewhat cloudy appearance of the lungs here – as though the film didn’t develop all the way. That’s called pulmonary edema, which basically means fluid in the lungs.” Then she traced a bulbous shape that ballooned out to the right from the center of the chest. “This is your heart. A healthy heart would only come out to here or so-” She indicated a space about half an inch closer to the center. “Yours is enlarged.”

Savannah felt like the breath was pulled from her lungs. She fought out the words. “Enlarged heart?”

“So what does all that mean?” Shaun’s voice belied his fear, as did the way his hand tightened on hers.

“I believe we’re looking at heart failure.”

Savannah almost laughed. “Heart failure? I’m the healthiest person I know. How is that possible? It can’t be right. Right, Shaun?”

Shaun’s eyes never left the doctor. “You can fix this, right? What do we do now?”

“We’re going to admit you for an echocardiogram and a cardiology consult. But I’m encouraged by the fact that you’re still as active and alert as you are. I think we caught this just in the nick of time.”

THE NEXT TWENTY-FOUR HOURS WERE like a roller coaster that only went down.

It was past midnight when she was finally brought up to the room. She insisted Shaun go home and sleep since the night nurse assured her nothing else would be done until the morning. “I’ll call you as soon as they tell me when things will get going again.”

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re here alone.”

“You’re exhausted. You’ll sleep. Believe me. You definitely won’t if you’re here, at least not well. Better chances in your own bed. Just go.”

She slept on and off, woken frequently by unfamiliar noises, vitals checks by the night nurse, and runaway dreams that left her breathless when she woke. Her breakfast was brought in at seven-thirty, and she gave up trying to sleep after that.

In the new semi-private room-which she shared with a woman whose heart monitor beep drove Savannah batty-the television with limited channels was her only source of entertainment, and nothing on the airwaves was interesting enough to hold her attention for long. As a result, her thoughts ran wild, dreaming up scenarios that all ended with her wishing she had pen and paper to write down her wishes for her funeral. She felt worse than she had when they’d first arrived in the ER. True fear was starting to set in.

She was taken after breakfast to the echo lab, Shaun arriving just minutes before the appointment, and underwent the echocardiogram. After that it was back to her room, where Shaun settled in to the chair beside her bed with a book and Savannah tried to take a nap. It was a pointless attempt-her keyed-up nerves were enough to override her exhaustion.

“Jessie wanted to know if she should come,” he said out of nowhere.

“What did you tell her?”

“That we would let her know when we found out anything, but that she didn’t need to come unless she really wanted to.”

“When does she leave for school again?”

Shaun thought a moment. “The 27th.”

“She’s got a lot on her plate with work and getting ready for the next semester. No sense in her wasting time here. Besides, anytime you visit someone in the hospital they always look worse than they really are. I wouldn’t want her getting scared when things aren’t really that bad.”

“Aren’t that bad?”

She kept her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m working on positive thinking.” She sighed and looked to the window, but the sunlight that snuck in through the cracks between the curtains and the walls hurt her eyes. “I should have asked you to bring my Bible.”

“Want me to find you one?”

“Would you?”

“Of course. I’m sure we’ve got one in the car. Give me a minute.”

He returned a bit later with a flimsy paperback version that had seen better days. “I should have thought of that when I came this morning. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m not really in the mood to read. I wanted it more for the comfort.” She held it in her hands and frowned, disappointed. The unfamiliar feel of the cover couldn’t compare with the soft, worn leather of her personal Bible. She flipped to the Psalms and let her eyes skim the page until they caught a familiar verse:

Why are you downcast, O my soul?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,

my Savior and my God.

She had written out those lines after her first miscarriage and taped them to the bathroom mirror. The verse had still been there when she’d had her second miscarriage, but sometime in the years after she’d removed it; the paper had curled from shower humidity and the words were ingrained on her heart and memory. Why hadn’t they come to mind during the last two weeks?

A disturbing thought came to her as she stared at the Scripture. She hadn’t prayed once-besides the brief and panicky, “Dear God, don’t let my heart go out!” after seeing the X-ray – since coming to the ER. Shaun hadn’t even suggested they pray together.

What had happened to her faith?

Like a panoramic movie, the last ten years of her life scrolled through her mind, revealing the incremental decline of her spiritual life. She saw herself on stages across the country, at the head of endless lines of fans wanting her signature in their books, at planning meetings and publisher meetings and marketing meetings. She didn’t see herself in church, or hidden away in prayer, or reading Scripture. She’d become a businesswoman for God, selling the promise of a meaningful life and cashing in on the desperate longings of harried mothers who wondered if their existence amounted to anything more than carpool schedules and menu planning to stretch a buck.

“Shaun, we need to pray.”

He looked up from his book, concern clouding his face. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“We haven’t prayed at all since we came in. We haven’t prayed together at all since I’ve been home, even. And before the tour…” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen it. I’ve been so caught up in the… the business of ministry. I feel like such a cliché.” A humorless laugh escaped, and her chest burned with the effort. “What if all this is meant to be a wake-up call? We’ve lost our passion, we’ve lost sight of our – our need for God.”

Shaun’s face was sympathetic. “Oh babe, I’m sorry you’re feeling like that.”

“But you see it too, right? It’s not just me imagining this? I mean, when was the last time you and I were really on our knees together? It’s both of us. We’re going through the motions like this is just our career and not a ministry, not a mission.”