I could hear voices in the room. "She looks so much better!" whispered one. "See her improved color?"
"Listen to her regular breathing!" said another. "And have you noticed how even the pulse on the monitor is?"
I did not feel better! I hurt everywhere. I wondered what they meant.
"I think I might have that surgery," murmured one voice.
"I'm thinking about it, too," said the other.
I couldn't believe it. These people were crazy! How could they look at this bloody, bruised, broken mess, and want to have the same surgery?!
Jesus put one cool lhand on my forehead and checked my pulse with the other. "How are you feeling?"
I looked into His eyes, and remembered why a person would want the surgery. "Better," I said.
Little by little, the pain began to fade. Recovery room nurses with gentle hands tended me carefully. They helped me to sit, and then to stand. Lo and behold, my heart really did beat evenly. With my nurse beside me, I could walk and not feel dizzy or out of breath. It was amazing! I was getting well.
Surely the story was almost over.
To be continued. . .
Repairing the Breach,
Debbonnaire
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