Heart Attack Wednesday

Last night, before I went to sleep, I had a little conversation with God.

I told Him if He wanted to take me home - via a nice, quick heart attack like He took my Dad – I would be okay with it.

Things have been bad at our house. Bad. Bad. Bad.

I’m not going to go into the details, because they are very personal and could get embarrassing. But trust me when I say, “Bad.” Okay?

Anyway, this morning, during devotions I asked God’s forgiveness for essentially asking Him to kill me in my sleep. I begged for grace from the throne.

I was already running late, as I rushed toward my car. I pressed the garage door opener and watched in stunned amazement as the door went up jerkily. Halfway up, the door stopped and little nuts and bolts just started popping off like jumping beans. The light fixture made a mighty CRACK and fell from the garage ceiling.

I just stared at the mess, before yelling, “Brett!”

My husband rose sleepily (middle of the night in his second-shift world) and attempted to fix the door. By the time the door was open enough for me to squeeze out of; I was already two hours late for work.

As I drove to work, I contemplated all the miseries that seem to be piling onto my life. I found myself sad and angry. Absent-minded, I flicked on my CD player. A second later, I realized it was the CD Gary’s daughter had given me for my birthday.

I’m not a fan of contemporary Christian music. And I definitely don’t listen to it in the car, so I was about to turn it off when I heard the familiar chorus of:

Here I am to worship
Here I am to fall down
Here I am to say that You’re my God

Suddenly, I asked myself, “Am I here to worship?” The answer, found in my heart and attitude, was a solid, “No.”

A second later, I was singing along softly and praying in the car. I was, once again, asking for God’s grace to cover me, for Him to shed His love on me. My mind’s eye saw my petty problems melt. I saw the money we owed disintegrate into nothingness, the car turned into scrap, and everything else whirled away.

I was small, down of my knees in front of the King of the Universe, praising Him, thanking Him for the grace, and asking for more.

Through the tears, I felt a jolt of joy surge through my bones as I looked up. The car in front of me had a discreet little window sticker that simply said, “Know Him.”

And in that moment, I was so glad I do.