Chest Piercings Hurt Like the Shizzles

Posted: January 7, 2012 in Batteries Not Included

It’s 3:30AM Saturday morning. Exactly one week ago at this time, I was being admitted into the ER for a stab wound to the chest. How quickly a week goes by.

I still remember the pain that rippled through my left side with each breath I took. I remembering at one point wondering if this is how it’ll all end. I remember as I stood up to get into the car, thinking, “I’m sorry, Evan.” Sorry for what, I now wonder? Sorry for not having been a better dad. Sorry for not being there for him when he graduates, when he gets his first job, when he gets married. Sorry for not having time to say goodbye.

I am sitting here trying to remember what it was like to face the possibility of death. It was certainly a lot more in-your-face than a prognosis of cancer, much more immediate.

I am certain that God’s hand saved my life, if not in preventing the knife from going too far, then in the healing that happened before I even got to the hospital. By the time we got to the hospital, the pain had mostly subsided, save during the few deep breaths I had to take for the X-ray. Something must’ve happened, something must’ve changed inside my body for the pain to have gone away. I absolutely believe that a miracle happened. There’s really no other explanation.

But still, the thought that 2011 might’ve been the last year I’d see still stays fresh with me. Pastor David asked me to pray hard about what God’s telling me. I think I’m still a little bit in shock to really process everything. But I really should pray. I do know one thing God’s telling me – it’s not my time. Not yet.

And as I’m sitting reminiscing about my little brush with death, a brother we’d met in Taiwan during the summer is falling ill to his cancer, his body not responding well to the treatments he’s getting.

It’s a lot to think about.

It certainly puts things in perspective.

(And no, the strangeness of the connection to my previous post is not lost on me.)


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