I am going to be honest with you folks. It is hard to admit this, but it’s true. I have been feeling guilty. Not from sin or something I did, but from the feeling that someone’s life just ended too soon. Before you jump to conclusions or thoughts about what I am trying to say, let me just try and explain…
I know and I trust that God has an amazing plan for my life. He says so in His word (Jeremiah 29:11 for your reference). I believe this more now than ever because He spared my life. He healed me and I am so unbelievably thankful to be here today. He gave me a wonderful life full of family and friends. He blessed me with an amazing Christian heritage. He gave me so much that I don’t deserve.
I really do believe all of that; however my donor is constantly on my mind. I don’t know who she was. I don’t know her family. I just know that she was way too young to die. Sometimes I lay down with my hand across my heart just feeling my heart beat. Immediately I breathe in a nice deep breath with a smile across my face (like you would with the thought of, ‘aaaah finally’), but many times tears come streaming down my face. I cry because I feel that it is unfair she is dead and I am alive. I was dying and ready to leave this earth if it was God’s will. She died a quick death where she may have not had time to say good bye. What if she wasn’t a Christian? What if she wasn’t ready to go? What if her family arrived too late to hold her hand and kiss her forehead? What if she left a child behind…or a husband? Why am I here and not her?
I know that a year ago I was fighting for my life. I desperately wanted to live. My donor and my donor family came to my mind so much last March and April. I would fall asleep praying for them. I prayed God would bring my future donor close to Him. I prayed He would give this family a peace with their thoughtful decision.
I often wonder what she was doing when I was in the hospital dying. I really hope she was having the time of her life. I am forever indebted to this family. I feel like I have somewhat of another family out there somewhere. I know that Jesus formed my old heart and the heart I have now, but I also know my heart was originally beating in someone else’s chest (for many years…). This heart was created/formed/made by two other parents out there. It’s a weird feeling. I want to meet them. I want to thank them. I want them to hear their daughter’s heart beating. I want them to know her heart is still alive and well.
Thank you, Father, for blessing me because of the graciousness of someone else. My heart is so heavy for my donor family. A year ago, these days were their very last with their precious
daughter/mother/sister/friend/wife, so please comfort them. Show them you are there. Give them peace. Hold them. As I pray for them right now, I hope you are holding my donor in your strong arms. You are so great.