A Healed Heart

By Shelley Carpenter

I squinted at the bright sun as it reflected off the crystal blue ocean. My children, three and five, scurried excitedly across the balcony of our beach condo. We had three days of respite from the craziness of life and we intended to enjoy it. Little cries of excitement hurried my morning meal and brought a smile to my face. The warm, salty air wafted up through the balcony doors and calling us down to the water. As their little hands gripped the railing and they pressed their faces towards the edge, I sighed. I wanted to feel their excitement and wonder, but instead, I felt the deep ache of weariness in my soul.

As we packed up all the beach toys and towels and wrestled two excited little children into their swimsuits, the phone rang. My breath caught in my chest. This was the call I had been waiting for. For six weeks, I had walked around with a massive headache after a chiropractic adjustment. I thought it was stress but the pain was persistent. After a paralysis of the right side of my face, panic and a lengthy ER visit with no findings, I made an appointment with my primary doctor. He looked concerned and proceeded to tell me I had some swelling around the base of my skull. Nothing a little prednisone couldn’t fix. The paralysis would pass, he said. He wanted to do a stress test and an ECG to rule out any heart issues, but that only worsened my headache. 

After that appointment, I pushed for a referral to a neurologist. After a thorough exam and an MRI, the neurologist looked at me and said “I’m not going to tell you what I think this is, because you are a researcher. If I tell you, google will take you down a scary path. Take two baby aspirin every day until the MRI results come back.” While I was annoyed at being misunderstood, I did as I was told, desperate for relief. 

I flashed a weary smile at my kids as they bustled out the door with their dad. Anger flared in the pit of my stomach. I had suffered for so long. I was angry no one had found any answers and angry I was struggling just to wake up in the morning. I was tired of not feeling well, tired of not having the energy I wanted to have for my family and angry I had to carry this burden of being unwell.

If I was honest, I felt alone. Where was God in all of this? Why couldn’t we find a proper diagnosis and why was I being made to suffer? Would this phone call hold the answers I desperately needed? I bit back tears of bitterness as I answered the phone. It was my neurologist. He explained that my MRI showed I had a left-sided vertebral artery tear (VAT). I had been walking around with it for weeks.

When you have a VAT, the inside wall of your artery tears away from the outer wall, flapping around with every beat of your heart. Should the flap of artery lengthen, through strenuous exercise, and get lodged in the vessel or should too much blood collect between the separated portions, you can have a massive stroke or die. As his words swirled around in my head, I was grateful he didn’t tell me about his suspicions before the results. I was going to be fine. I would just always have a narrowed left artery and headaches might be more intense in the future. “The stress test you took could have taken your life. Your artery is pretty narrow. I am amazed you function in the manner you do. You’re lucky, I hope you know that,” he said. Deep down, I knew that luck had nothing to do with it.

I hung up the phone after loosely listening to further instructions and moved to watch my kids from the balcony as they ran to the water’s edge. What a strange thing it is to look at your kids, innocent, unaware and happy, knowing you could have died. Tears began falling down my cheeks as I began to pray. My armor of anger was cracking and there was no use holding back.

I had been angry at God for some time, wondering where He was during the months of health difficulties that had prefaced that day. The financial costs of healthcare were staggering and it felt like we were drowning. We had a beautiful life, and I was only partially able to participate in it. As the sunlight danced across the water before me, the Holy Spirit whispered in my spirit. 

“You will pass through the waters, but not be overtaken. I will be with you.” (Isaiah 43:2) As tears flowed, God brought to mind small moments of grace throughout my journey. The kindness of a stranger. The gentleness of the medical technician. The listening ear of a close friend. The doctor that figured out a piece of the puzzle. The verse spoken at just the right time in the middle of a long day. The extra income to meet a small need. In each small moment of grace extended to me, He had sustained me. For the first time in years, I felt hope. My life could have ended, but it hadn’t. I knew that was the Lord’s doing. His incredible mercy had kept me from death.

  As I continued to pray and repent of my anger, God led me to a promise I would hold onto in the years to come. Proverbs 3:25-26 says, “Have no fear of sudden disaster or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked, for the Lord will be at your side and will keep your foot from being snared.” I was not alone. The Lord was with me and cared for me through every test, every unknown and every pain.

 It would be four more years of struggling health and walking with the Lord before healing came. Throughout those years, the Lord showed me His incredible grace in the small places of life. He taught me about the incredible design with which He has created all of us and gave me a deep compassion for those struggling with chronic illness. I learned that there was so much to be grateful for. I could trust Him. I could trust His promises and His character. I learned I could trust His provision and that no need was too small to bring to Him. In March of 2023, I was, by God’s grace, able to throw away my last medicine bottle. The Lord had led me to answers and given me understanding through an incredible doctor who helped me heal.

There is no guarantee I will see tomorrow. Each day is an incredible gift that God has graciously given. It is by His hand and for His purpose I was created and have been sustained. Even if healing this side of heaven had not happened, He is still good. He is trustworthy. He is all-sustaining. Until my last breath, I will speak and write about the great things He has done.