from the heart ...

 “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  (Matt 6:21)

When I read those words, I didn’t realise that the opposite would also be true – that my heart should be something I should treasure. Then, just over a week ago, about 3.30am in the morning, I woke in a cold sweat with severe chest pains and shortness of breath. I had no idea what was going on, so took some antacids and waited for it to pass. When, forty-five minutes later, it hadn’t shifted, I called for help and soon found myself one the way to the local hospital. Within 36 hours, I’d been transferred to another hospital and undergone a two-hour angioplasty.

I come from a family with a long history of heart disease, so I knew there was more than a negligible risk. My dad and most of his siblings had had some kind of heart trouble by the time they reached their forties, so perhaps I had become a bit complacent having reached 50 trouble free. Living with significantly raised blood pressure for the last 18 months can’t have helped.

A week on, and I am still trying to process what it all means. In practical terms, I have been learning to rest and incorporating five new medications into my daily regime. It will also mean, soon, taking the advice of rehab specialists and trying to adopt a healthier lifestyle. But it feels like I’m only scratching the surface and there’s a lot more learning to do if I’m prepared to listen to my heart.

Above all else, I think my heart is telling me about the importance of limitations. Whilst I believe I have endless energy and capacity, it’s clear that I don’t. None of us do, of course, but some of us are inclined to live as if we do. For many years I thought I was suffering from bouts of depression, periods of unpredictable low mood and lack of energy. I took this to mean that, when the depression lifted, I had only limited time before it hit again and so needed to fit in as much as I possibly could. I realise now that I was, in fact, experiencing burnout, caused by those periods of intense stress and overwork. A misdiagnosis and my failure to establish good boundaries, to take proper rest, led inevitably to times of mental, physical and spiritual exhaustion.

Ironically, before my heart attack, I had just read Nicola Slee’s excellent book, Sabbath. Turns out that I am very bad at observing sabbath (see above)! For over 30 years, ministry has been so much a part of my life that somehow sabbath got lost. I even managed to miss out on three sabbaticals, despite serving as a District Sabbatical Officer! Sunday has normally been a day full of activity – giving out to meet the needs of others – as well as the focus of the rest of my week. I have become so used to working at times when others were not, that I seemed to have forgotten to rest whilst others went about their daily tasks. Even when I wasn’t physically present, my mind was often filled with the concerns and problems of the church. I never quite found a way of switching off, except when forced.

A week on from angioplasty and it looks like I’m facing some forced ‘sabbatical’. It’s time to make some changes and learn to embrace my limitations.