Heartbeats

I am close to God when I feel my heart beat.

The constant rhythm keeps me awake at night, but it reminds me that I’m so lucky to be alive. Sometimes I rest my phone on my chest and watch it roll gently up and down. Even when I close my eyes again I can feel the beautiful tempo singing to me, strong and steady.

I am close to God when I see my heart beat.

I watch it work in all of its beautiful glory when I get my echocardiogram done for the fiftieth time. My heart is reliable despite all the wear and tear it has experienced. Even when nothing else in my body seems to be working properly, my heart is going overtime pumping blood — however little — to my brain and through my veins to keep me alive.

I am close to God when I rest my head on my puppy’s tummy.

I hear her tiny heart racing at a pace much faster than my own, and her itty-bitty tummy digesting kibble. She doesn’t do anything to keep herself alive and healthy; she just lives.

I think of how incredible it is that every living thing has so many intricate organs that each serve their own purpose. Even with a broken body I can recognize how absolutely incredible the human anatomy is. I am broken, but I’m still here. I still have a beautiful mind, I still have a chance to make a difference in the world, and I can still love. There is absolutely no way there isn’t a God. We are far too complicated for me to believe that.

My faith is a roller coaster ride, but I have it — When I feel my heart beat.