A heartbeat can change your life. I can think of a few times when the sound of a heartbeat was the most important sound in my world.

Each time I heard my unborn babies heartbeats. And the time when it couldn’t be found.

After Ava’s second heart surgery, she was so swollen that they couldn’t close up her chest for a while. They placed what just looked like saran wrap over her. I could see past her spread open tiny rib cage to her itty bitty heart (the size of a golfball)…beating it’s rhythm. It was so beautiful and sacred…like I was viewing a secret…and at the same time horrifying…the visual reality of how fragile her life was. My own heart ached with every beat I watched of hers.

What is a heartbeat? According to the dictionary its a pulsation of the heart, including one complete systole and diastole. Did you know that there’s a part of your brain that tunes out the sound of your own heart? We can hear other’s heartbeats, but the sound of our own heart would be too distracting. I read about a study where they flashed pictures of shapes to participants while they were in an MRI machine. When those pictures where shown in the exact same rhythm of their heartbeats, participants had a much lower awareness of the shapes…and in some cases, failed to see the pictures at all.

Our heartbeat can effect what we see.

Ten years ago today…a heartbeat changed my life.

I was sitting in a hospice room watching my first husbands chest rise and fall. His heart, still young and strong, beating it’s rhythm.

Until it stopped.

The cancer had finally taken over and his heart couldn’t beat anymore.

I knew he was gone. That his body was empty. But I asked for a few minutes alone anyway. I had not been able to be close to him in a while because of his pain and discomfort and I wanted to lay my head on his chest one more time.

So I did…

And I heard silence.

Deafening silence.

No rhythmic beating. No comforting sign of life.

Just silence.

That was the moment that I fully knew that he was gone.

And for a while, the sound of others heartbeats was hard to bare. I’m not a tall girl, so when I’m hugged I can often hear other’s heartbeats. I became more aware of my own heartbeat as well.

And they all reminded me of the heart that was still and silent.

I have no memories of being driven home that night. But I do remember walking into our house…my house…and feeling like all of my insides were being ripped out.

But my heart kept beating.

And with each beat God was there. At first, it was all I could do to just keep acknowledging His faithfulness. Over time, He kept healing my heart, not because time heals hearts…but because He does. Healing came through seeing Him more clearly and more deeply. It’s taken years, but now when I look back, I can see not just His presence…I can see His overwhelming kindness, in every situation.

Heartbeats have changed how I see.

So, in my memories today, I feel the ache of sadness. Because its part of my story. But in that, I run to and rest in the One who has always held my heart. And He helps me see what I truly need…Him.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3