The Morning God Said Yes

I was supposed to have my heart shocked back into rhythm on Tuesday morning.

After weeks of tachycardia and a-fib, it was finally time. We checked into a hotel across the street from the hospital the night before. My alarm was set. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight. The cardioversion was scheduled for 10 a.m. with an 8 a.m. arrival. No more waiting. No more hoping it would fix itself.

I kept waking up until about 3 am, when I finally fell into a deep sleep, and then woke up with a jolt when the early 6:45 alarm went off. I sat up slowly, trying to clear the sleepy fog from my head.

And something felt different.

Just… quiet. Steady. Calm. My heartbeat wasn’t throbbing in my ears. My heart didn’t feel like it had been racing all night. For weeks, I had been living with the constant awareness of it… the fluttering, the irregularity, the unpredictability. It had become the background noise of my life. Something I carried every minute.

But that morning, the noise was gone. I didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t want to assume. I didn’t want to be wrong. I took a quick shower, and got dressed slowly. Then, I reached for my Apple Watch.

I put it on and clicked on the ECG app. Heart rate: 80. No a-fib. Normal sinus rhythm.

I stared at it. That couldn’t be right. So I did it again. Heart rate: 75. Normal sinus rhythm.

I just sat there on the edge of the hotel bed, staring at my wrist. Not moving. Not speaking. Not breathing. What?

This didn’t happen. Not on the morning of cardioversion. Not one hour before we were scheduled to check in to shock my heart back into rhythm.

My husband and I finished getting ready, and we went to the hospital anyway. I checked my watch about ten more times as I anxiously waited to be called back. I needed them to confirm it. I needed it to be real outside of my watch.

When the nurse asked me how my morning was going, I laughingly told him, “well… I don’t think my heart is in a-fib anymore”. He was surprised, but he hooked me up and ran the ECG. Normal rhythm. No a-fib. He said, “I’ll tell the doctor, and she’ll be back to see you!” And she arrived just a few minutes later. No cardioversion needed! And she told me to get dressed, and sent me home.

I walked out of that hospital with the procedure canceled. Canceled.

Because sometime between the night before and that early morning moment in the hotel room, my heart had returned to rhythm on its own. Or maybe I should say it differently.

God healed my heart.

Down to the wire. A last-minute, undeniable, merciful, personal God-version.

Leading up to that morning, so many people had been praying specifically for me. A lot of these people knew this cardioversion was the second one in 2 months, and they knew I was so weary. I had been weary since August when the first round of a-fib and tachycardia had begun. So friends, family, our church, our elders were praying. People who knew me well and people who didn’t. People who called my name out loud to God and asked Him to intervene.

And He did.

Not weeks earlier, when I first asked. Not days earlier, when I was exhausted and discouraged. Not even the night before.

He waited until the very last moment. One hour before.

I don’t fully understand why. My brain still wants explanations. It wants guarantees. It wants to know if it will last. It wants to know why this time was different.

Because here’s the thing – I’ve prayed for absolute healing in my heart and lungs for almost four years now. Four years of diagnoses I never expected. Four years of tests, open-heart surgery, medications, fear, and feeling fragile and uncertain. Four years of moving forward, and then taking steps back. I’ve asked God a million times for healing and for a miracle. (If I’m being totally honest, I’ve actually prayed for this heart of mine for close to 50 years now – since I knew what praying was).

At my last appointment, my cardiologist told me there weren’t any other options, medicine-wise, for treating my pulmonary hypertension, and that hit really hard. He was kind of casual and it felt like a throw-away line when he said it, but it also felt deep and ominous. And so I started praying for options this cardiologist didn’t know about, for strength and energy to get a second opinion. I shared this moment with friends and family, and people have been praying.

Just a few days before the cardioversion day, I had a moment where I realized deep down in my soul that no matter what, “even if the answer is no”, I’m going to be ok. I told God that I was not quite ready to totally stop asking for healing, but I was willing to accept this “new normal” as much as possible, day in and day out, if that’s what His plan was for me. I am still able to work, love my people, and show God’s love to others. I’m going to be ok.

After years of asking God to heal me. Years of not hearing a yes, and still standing at the door every day, knocking anyway. This journey over the last few years has changed me in more ways than I could count.

And then Tuesday came. This moment of God reverting my heart back to normal sinus rhythm wasn’t something I manufactured. I did not fix this in my sleep. I did not will my heart back into rhythm.

God did what I could not do.

And I am left with both peace and wonder. Peace, because I experienced His kindness in a way that felt personal and unmistakable. Wonder, because I know this story isn’t over.

I don’t know what tomorrow holds for my heart and my lungs. But I know this: on a quiet morning, in a hotel room across the street from a hospital, one hour before cardioversion, God said yes.

And my heart listened.