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On the 1st Anniversary of My Heart Attack

I couldn’t let today go by without acknowledging the anniversary of my heart attack. It’s so hard to believe that it’s been a year since that day when everything seemed to turn upside down. I’ll never forget walking myself into the emergency room alone (Covid protocols prevented Melissa from being able to join me), thinking there was a high chance it was nothing major. A few tests later, and my heart enzymes gave sufficient evidence of a heart attack.

One of the hardest parts was waiting. I went in Saturday morning, but I didn’t have my heart cath until Sunday evening. While I felt okay, I wasn’t sure if a blockage or something might occur and prove fatal while I was waiting for the procedure. One of the things I’ll never forget was my cardiologist (who I began seeing in February of last year and who ran a battery of inconclusive tests) looking at me before or after the procedure and saying, “Well, Mr. Wells…you were right! You did have some problems!”

I’m so grateful to be alive! I always knew every day was a gift, but that moment made me wonder just how much sand remained in the top of the hourglass and wonder which portion had more in it.

I hope I can live out the rest of those grains of sand with wisdom from above and not take life for granted. When I was in the hospital and contemplating my mortality, I never once worried about whether I learned enough songs or finished enough projects. What was on my mind was how I treated the ones I love, particularly Melissa and Lydia, and whether I was a good enough husband and daddy and whether they knew how deep my love was for them. Guilt over unkind words or grumpy attitudes flooded my mind, and worry about whether they would be taken care of made me cry on multiple occasions while I was alone in the hospital, scared and worried.

Card from Lydia & Melissa sent to my hospital room (9/26/20)

My other thought was regret over not living life as faithfully and joyfully unto the Lord as I should. However, I must admit, even when looking back on my Christian life, grace was the theme. I wasn’t overwhelmed with guilt so much as actively trusting in the Lord to take care of me. I regretted not having enough Scripture at my fingertips, not having as vibrant a prayer life or not sharing my faith enough. Those feelings were superseded by a much greater sense of peace, knowing then as I do now that I’m a sinful human being, but I serve a great Savior and I am His and He is mine. I knew at that moment that were I to die, the light of my life would be snuffed out only to be reignited in glory.

Overall, I knew the joy of the hymn writer, E.E. Hewitt, who declared in "My Faith Has Found a Resting Place": “I need no other argument,

I need no other plea,

It is enough that Jesus died,

And that he died for me.”

So, if anyone is still reading this, don’t take life for granted. I never expected having a heart attack at age 38, and hearing that my “widow maker” artery was 80% blocked was a shock. The thought of leaving Melissa a widow and my daughter fatherless was almost more than I could bear. Nevertheless God spared me, and had He not, His grace would be sufficient for them, too.

If you’d like to know more about the Lord Jesus Christ and how you can be made right with God and experience the assurance of salvation, please consider reading this post from our new pastor:

With the rest of my days, I want to do my best to fulfill the apostle Paul’s command in Colossians 3:17: “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (ESV).

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