What Is Your Sword of Damocles?

Do you ever feel like you have some fear or burden constantly hanging over your head? Maybe it steals your sleep, or serves as a constant nagging companion in your mind. We all seem to struggle with something. As I sat in my surgeon, Dr. Vaporciyan aka Rock Star's, office at MD Anderson last week, I received the great news that I was still clear of the nuisance (aka cancer)! As fabulous as that news was, my mind immediately thought, "Well, what about next time?" How sad is that?! I slid from celebrating and clapping my hands, to fretting about my next appointment. My doctor must have seen it in my eyes because he asked me a question that I want to ask you now. "Have you heard of the sword of Damocles?"

Damocles served in the court of Dionysius. Dionysius was a tyrant who lived a very extravagant life. By all appearances, he had it all. Luxury, feasts, fame and flatterers.  Damocles was one of these flatterers. To Damocles, the life of Dionysius was to be envied. He had no worries, no troubles, just the life of luxury. Damocles so frequently commented on how lucky Dionysius was, that Dionysius grew weary of hearing him say it. To give Damocles a little perspective of his "luck", he invited Damocles to experience life in his shoes. Damocles quickly accepted the offer.

Dionysius had a grand feast prepared. Damocles donned fine garments and reclined at the table enjoying the fine festivities. No doubt he felt he had found the good life. The meal was fantastic. The service delightful. Life could not be better. As he leaned back in his fine chair, something above his head captured his eye. It was a sword, hanging from the ceiling by the hair of a horse. The looming danger suddenly overshadowed the food, clothes and finery. He sat upright  in his chair and looked to Dionysius for an explanation. Dionysius quickly explained that this was what the life of a ruler was like. Damocles expediently excused himself from the table, leaving behind that which he thought he had truly desired.

There are many conclusions one could draw from that story, but the lesson for me was that I have a choice to make each day. I can focus on the feast or focus on the sword. If I focus on the feast, then I choose to pull up to the table of blessing and partake of the festival of life. But if I am not careful, my eyes may shift above my head to the sword. Although I may still be present at the feast, I cannot enjoy it, because I am in constant fear of the sword dropping. It is a conscious decision. Focus on the feast? Focus on the sword?

What is your sword of Damocles? Is it your health? Your finances? Your relationship? Your kids? Is it your list of regrets or failures? Your future? Whatever it is, it is keeping you from the feast! It is robbing you of your blessings! Life can't be spent worrying about what if the sword falls! Matthew says it this way: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Matthew 6:25-27

I have a sword over my head. You have one, too. But I have a feast to attend! Wanna go with me? I will save you a seat!

An Angel Named Ida

Do you believe in angels? Not the little cherubs with the round tummies, chubby cheeks and little wings. I am talking about the ones who wear normal clothes, have average faces, and appear in the regular places. They may not be heavenly beings (or maybe they are), but they bring messages all the same!

Yesterday Rodney and I were at MD Anderson Cancer Center for my three month follow up. I will have these appointments for the rest of my life to make sure that the nuisance isn't trying to sneak back up on me. Thymoma can do that. As much as I try to maintain my focus, I have to admit that the thought of these appointments shakes me up a little.

We had completed blood work and a CT scan and were on our way to my final appointment to get news that would either elate or try to crush me. I ducked into the bathroom to get my game face on and there she was, emptying the trash. She had short tight curls, dark skin, and a blue cleaning uniform. With rubber gloves, she busied herself cleaning the restroom. Not exactly how you expect to find an angel. As I stepped out of the stall I was prompted to thank her for the work she was doing, but before I could speak, she spoke to me. As I stood washing my hands, she asked if I was a Christian. I told her that I had been saved since I was six and that honestly I didn't know how I would have gotten through the past year without God. She asked how my faith has been affected by all I have been through. I told her that I had learned amazing lessons about God in the darkness. I shared with her that I was on my way up to get reports to see if my scans were still clean. She stopped wiping the counter, looked at me and said, "They will be, for by His stripes you are healed."

Now a little background knowledge for you, in case those words are not familiar. That phrase is mentioned twice in the bible. You can find it in Isaiah 53:5 and again in 1 Peter 2:24. I have read it and heard it a million times in my life, I have even claimed it during my battle, but I had never noticed what she told me next. She said to me, "In 1 Peter the verse says, "by his stripes YOU are healed" in Isaiah it says, "by his stripes WE are healed". Isaiah was a prophesy of things to come. 1 Peter 2:24 is for you, for by his stripes YOU are healed. You will be okay, for by his stripes you are healed." About that time some other women entered the restroom. She returned to wiping the counter; I returned to washing my hands. As I dried my hands I asked her name. It was Ida. I told her how happy I was to have met her.  She smiled and wished me a blessed day. Somehow I knew it already was.

I walked out of the restroom, my heart lifted. Her words were reminders of the wonders God has done in my life, the healing he has brought to my body and soul. Moments later, I sat in the doctors office. He smiled as he told me my scans were stable and all looked good. Ida's words played in my my mind, "For by his stripes you are healed." I am grateful for healing. I am grateful for answered prayers. I am grateful for earthly and heavenly angels that show up in unexpected places to bring encouragement. God is good---ALL THE TIME!! (and He is not above showing up in a bathroom to remind you!)

The Boxing Gloves

I have such a great story to tell you. It is a tale that has been in the works for months, but only recently did it have an ending. It is yet another example of how God works!

On May 8th, I flew to Houston to prepare for my second surgery on The Nuisance (aka cancer). I was traveling alone while my husband remained behind to be with his students as they took their state mandated test. (I love his dedication to his kids!! He makes me proud!) I really thought the day would be no big deal. I would fly down, have a few tests run, and pick him up at the airport later that night. No problem! Only there was a problem. While I sat in the airport preparing to board, I felt my chin begin to quiver. Being alone gave my mind time to ponder the days ahead. A little fear crept in. The "what-ifs" took over. I choked back tears. As I climbed aboard the plane, my vision was blurred by the tears that filled my eyes. I sat in my seat and opened my Facebook. Maybe distraction would help me get myself back together, or at least help me hide my emotion.

Many people had posted words of encouragement. There were so many mentions of prayer. The comments were just what I needed to hear.  One in particular painted a picture that captured my mind. Gayla Bursiaga and I have shared paths from college to our careers. We both attended Wayland and now work for Lubbock ISD. On that day she posted the following words. They will forever be in my mind. Gayla wrote, "I had someone tell me once when I was going through a very difficult time that all the angels in heaven and hell were watching to see how God dealt with the situation and what MY reaction would be...I have gone back to that time and time again, and for some reason I thought about it today when I read your post. I must tell you that YOUR reaction to the journey you are on is an inspiring lesson to many, but especially me. I KNOW that God has ALREADY dealt with this journey! I, along with everyone else AND those Angels...can't wait to see God show OFF! I am praying for your continued journey...and praising for the victories he has given you already!" 

As I read the post, I pictured myself in a boxing ring. At the moment, I was on the ground, feeling beaten and bloody. I could imagine hell on one side and heaven on the other. Hell was booing, taunting me to stay down. Heaven was cheering and calling for me to stand and fight. Both responses were motivating! The competitor in me heard the jeers and thought (quite literally) "Oh, Hell NO!". I heard the angels cheering. I pictured myself getting to my knees, staggering to my feet, taking a deep breath, and starting to throw back punches. My chin stopped quivering. My tears dried up. My mind pondered victory, not loss. It was just what I needed! I could feel my strength building. I felt my whole posture change. I felt like Rocky at the top of the stairs, jumping from foot to foot with my fists in the air.

Because the image was so powerful to me, I became obsessed with finding charms of boxing gloves. I wanted a set for me and a set for my friend Gayla. I wanted each of us to have a reminder of that powerful image. A reminder that God gives us strength to fight on. I found them. That very day I ordered the charms. They were at my home before I was.

Throughout the summer those charms set on my kitchen counter. Although I had been so obsessed to get them ordered, I kept forgetting to mail them. All summer long they sat. A couple of weeks ago I messaged Gayla to get her address, but even then I didn't get them in the mail. I felt horrible for procrastinating. Finally, on Monday the 12th, I got them in the mail. On August 15th I received a message from Gayla. I asked if I could share our story. It is quite amazing!!

On the day that Gayla received the boxing gloves it turns out that she was on her way to have a mammogram. Only three people knew. As she put it, "something just wasn't right". Gayla's family is familiar with breast cancer and fear was her companion that day. The timing of those gloves arriving was no coincidence. In Gayla's words, "It was God's reminder to me, that as undeserving as I am, that whatever comes...all of heaven and hell are watching that boxing ring!" The image that had given me strength to fight on, now strengthened her.

As I read her message, tears again blurred my vision. This time they were tears of awe. God used Gayla to give me strength five months ago. He then formulated a plan to return the favor to her. My procrastination was God's perfect timing. He knew the exact moment those charms would mean the most! He sees every detail of our lives. No tear or fear goes unnoticed. He uses people, images, even little silver charms, to show his children he loves them. Some think God is distant and uncaring. Some think he doesn't see our individual pain. Gayla and I stand together, hand in hand, to tell you that isn't true. God is in the details. He is looking for ways to get your attention and show you he cares. He wants you to get up and keep on fighting. He and his angels are cheering you on!

Oh, and Gayla's mammogram? It was normal!!! God is good! ALL THE TIME!!!

Lies of Spies

Do you hear voices? Not the kinds that make you doubt your sanity. I am talking about the ones that make you doubt your future. Maybe they say to you that your relationship is beyond repair. Perhaps they say that your health will never be restored. They may tell you that you will always be alone, or that you will never reach your goal. The voices say you are not good enough, smart enough, attractive enough, wealthy enough...Do you have those voices?

I have been reading about the Israelites this week. They had been promised a land that would be a perfect home. A land that would be blessed for them.  As they approached this new land, they sent some spies ahead to gather more information. Were the people there strong or weak? Few or many? Was the land good or bad?  12 spies went.  They returned with news that the land truly was a good land, flowing with milk and honey. BUT... There is it. The voices begin to cast doubt. Ten of the spies were afraid. The people there are too strong! There are giants! The land will devour us! We are small as grasshoppers to them! We should not go. The lies of spies.

I wonder how many times we are right on the edge of what God wishes to bless us with, when we suddenly begin to listen to the voices of men, rather than God. We believe the lies of spies. Sometimes the spy that lies is our own inner voice of doubt. Sometimes it is the voice of fear. It might the voice of a well-meaning family member or friend. It might come from someone who is jealous of a new opportunity. The lies can come from an enemy, or a stranger. The lies of spies tell us we can't, we shouldn't, it is not possible. Believing the lies can rob us of our blessing.

Two of the twelve spies saw a different possibility. Although they saw the same giants and obstacles, they also remembered that God was with them. He had shown them miracles before and would do so again. God promised safe delivery if the Israelites would only believe. They refused to believe the voices of doubt and fear. They refused to believe the lies of spies. 

Sadly, the Israelites didn't have the same faith. As a result, they rebelled. They doubted. Their doubt led them back to the wilderness. Only Joshua and Caleb, the two spies who did not doubt God, were allowed to enter the Promised Land.

Do you listen to the lies of spies? Are they telling you that things will never get better? Do they tell you that you are not good enough? That God has forgotten you? Do they lie to you about who you are? Do the voices tell you that you will never reach the Promised Land so you might as well stay in proverbial Egypt?

Do not listen to the lies of spies.  God is big enough to lead you through the land of giant obstacles. He is strong enough to keep you from drowning in the Red Sea of life. He is compassionate enough to heal you in the desert of loneliness. He is merciful enough to feed you in the wilderness of fear.  The God who leads you through the desert is the God who will see you safely to the land He has promised you. Do not listen to the lies. Grab your bedroll and keep on moving. The Promised Land lies ahead! You don't want to miss this!

Do not listen to the lies of spies!

What Would You Do...?

My friend Kelli posted a question on her Facebook a few weeks ago. She asked, "What would you do if you knew you only had a few months to live?" When that question used to cross my mind, Tim McGraw's song would start like a recording in my head.  "I'd go skydiving. I'd go Rocky Mountain climbing. I'd go 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.." (Feel free to sing along, folks.) The lyrics would make think of all the BIG things I would want to do if  I didn't  have much time. Having brushed a little closer with the reality of limited time than I would have chosen, I have discovered an unexpected truth. It isn't the exotic trips or adrenalin-filled adventures that line my to-do list. It is paying more attention to the normal things. Turns out the LITTLE things are the BIG things! Who knew?!?

Tim croons that we should live like we were dying. Pretty good advice actually. What would I do if I only had a few days, months, years, to live?

Praise God--all day, every day.

See more sunsets (Sunrises are just so stinking early! I have a friend who posts a picture of a sunrise each day on Facebook. I live vicariously through her! Those extra minutes of sleep bring me happiness!)

Treat my family with the sort of pleasantness I use in public. (Yikes! Sometimes I am nicer in the hall at work than I am in my own home!)

Tell people how I feel about them (if it is nice, of course).

Find good in bad situations.

Chill out about things I can't control.

Do  random acts of kindness more often.

Listen.

Take lots of pictures with people I love.

Encourage people who are struggling.

Write.

Tell my boys how much I love them and how proud they make me every day. (And hug them even if they squirm!)

Treat my husband like I did when we were dating.

Slow down.

Listen to really good music.

Smile.

Reminisce and tell stories of "the good ole days" (which may have been this morning).

Say thank you for all life's blessings.

Fix what I can fix and let go of the rest.

Play some practical jokes.

Laugh.

Sit on my porch and be quiet.

Ask forgiveness.

Be present.

Love.

Live each day with passion.

Not an all inclusive list, but plenty to get me started! How about you? What would you do? I wonder if you will discover that the little stuff is the big stuff.  Whatever is on your list, get after it! No one is promised tomorrow, but if you are reading this, you have today! Better get a move on!

Itsy, Bitsy, Teeny, Weeny, Yellow, Polka dot Bikini....

It was an Itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, yellow, polka dot bikini, that she wore for the first time today...

Ok, no it really wasn't,  but it WAS the first time I put on a bathing suit since I started my battle with the Nuisance. The scars down the front of my chest and across my back were clearly visible. I stepped in front of the mirror, and was caught a little off guard when I raised my eyes to my reflected face and saw I was smiling.  I suddenly realized that those scars, which at one time symbolized fear and cancer, now  represented power and grace. 

There are so many layers of miracle there. I remember way back to December when I found out I would have to have my chest cracked (still hate that term). I didn't know what type of nuisance I had at that point. Somehow my mind settled on the scar as something it could effectively worry about. I dreaded the rope-like scar that would mark me for life.  Those of you that have read my blog awhile know that God was at work in that fear to show me that he was in the details. He gave me a special Hand-stitched gift to prove it. My scar, because of a gift, looks more like a scratch. (See Hand Stitched with Love for the full story). The scar I feared so much turned out to be a chance for him to give me a gift.

The scar across my back brought me the miracle of being able to say my name is NED (no evidence of disease).  I love that it was the second surgery and that it is on my back. It reminds me this season is behind me and that this battle has been won.

Throughout this fight the song lyrics "I know who goes before me, I know who stands behind, the God of angel armies, is always by my side" has been an anthem in my mind. Psalm 139:5 says, "You hem me in behind and before,and you lay your hand upon me." My scars (in front and behind) tell me I am literally hemmed in by a God who will not allow me to experience anything he can't help me handle!

I think this is the first time since about eighth grade that I have smiled at my reflection in a bathing suit. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Each scar reminds me of the victory, not the trial. (Now I have to admit I haven't figured out a spiritual explanation for cellulite, but I am looking for it...) I am amazed how God can change bad for good, fear for confidence, and dread for hope. The God who changed water into wine is still in the business of changing things. Don't believe it? Let's go layout by the pool and I will tell you all about it! Suit up!

Mosaics

Recently my son had the opportunity to help create a large mosaic honoring our hometown as part of a class art project. (Awesome activity, Mrs Mosely). The piece is proudly displayed on the wall of our county library. A few evenings ago my parents, husband and I went to examine the masterpiece. It is created with images that reflect the history of our community. Beautiful.

My husband was getting an up close look at the handiwork. As he stood only a foot away, he struggled to make out one of the images. He questioned what it might be, to which my mother responded, "Step back a little and take another look." He did so. As he did, the familiar object began to take shape. My chemistry teacher of a husband, could now clearly recognize the beaker on display. (Actually, it is an Erlenmeyer flask, but you get the idea.)

I thought how relevant that experience is to life. So often from our close up perspective, we are unable to make sense of what we see in our lives.  We struggle to understand situations. We wrestle to make sense of problems. We search for solutions to trials we cannot comprehend.  It is only when we are able to step back, that we can clearly see the full picture and gain some insight. Sometimes stepping back takes time. Sometimes it requires distancing ourselves. Sometimes it takes someone saying, "Step back a little and take another look."

I don't know how many times in my life I have had to step back from an issue to really understand it. Stepping back isn't always easy. Sometimes it means giving up our illusion of control. That can be tough, but it is necessary. This all makes me think of a verse in 1 Corinthians 13:12,  "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." Some of life's mosaics may not become clear this side of heaven. From our perspectives we may only catch glimpses of the bigger picture. It may not be clear how our circumstances are interwoven to create a beautiful design, but they are.

When you find yourself staring at your life and not comprehending what you see, think of the mosaic. Take a step back and look from a different perspective. Sometimes that is all it takes to get some clarity.  When it doesn't become clear, don't give up hope. Each event in your life is like a tile in a mosaic, going together to create a beautiful design. Some tiles have to be cracked and broken to create the image. It may not make sense from up close, and it may hurt a little (or a lot), but someday when you step back, you will get the picture!

Drift Happens!

Remember what it is like to spend  the afternoon just floating at the lake? You start off near the dock, enjoying the sun. You open your eyes and realize that while you were relaxing, you drifted far from where you started . You didn't intend to, and didn't even know how far out you had gone. Yet here you are, with a swim ahead of you. So much for relaxing!

A sweet friend and I were discussing how drifting doesn't just happen at the lake. It happens in life, too. We drift with our weight, our finances, and our jobs. Sometimes we drift in friendships. We don't intend to, we just sort of relax into life and before we know it, we have drifted away from a friend. It happens in marriage. We start out so excited in our marriages and assume that "LOVE" will keep us close together. Then life happens. Children are born, jobs are acquired, and suddenly you wake up one morning and realize that you have drifted from that person who meant so much to you. It happens in our relationship with God. We don't mean for it to happen, it just sneaks up on us. One day we wake up and realize that the last time we really felt close to God was back at youth camp in high school. We float along in life and expect to stay where we began, but that isn't what happens. We drift.

There is only one solution for drifting- being intentional. If we don't want to drift at the lake, we must intentionally secure ourselves to the dock. If we don't want to drift with our weight, finances, or in our jobs, we have to intentionally set goals, make plans, and work at it. If friendships matter, we must intentionally communicate and connect. If we care about our marriage, we must intentionally spend time together and encourage one another. If our relationship with God is to be all it was designed to be, we have to intentionally seek Him. If not, drift happens.

Where are you right now in this lake we call life? Are you near your "dock" or have you opened your eyes to realize you have drifted far away from the very things that matter most to you? If you've drifted, start swimming my friend! You can't wait expecting the dock to swim back to you. It doesn't work that way. If something matters to you, you have to make the move to get back to it. The sooner you intentionally start to paddle back, the sooner you reach the dock!

Be on the lookout, my little floating companion.  Drift happens!

Every day you spend drifting away from your goals is a waste not only of that day, but also of the additional day it takes to regain lost ground.

Ralph Marston

Father's Day From Far Away

My poor dad. Raising three girls couldn't have possibly been easy. Perhaps that is why his hair is so white. Being the only man in a house of women involved late night runs to Circle S to buy four pair of pantyhose on Saturday nights, lifetime membership to Girl Scouts (yes, for him) and enduring 4 sets of mood swings on any given day. Dodging those must have been rougher than running the gauntlet! But before you feel too sorry for him, he did find ways to get a little revenge. If the man ever says, "Hold your sister's hands and touch this wire.", don't do it. I also wouldn't recommend sticking your tongue on a battery, but that is a different story. Today I am thinking about things I know because of my dad. This weekend is Father's Day and we are in Houston for more appointments and can't be with him to celebrate, but we don't have to be together for me to think of him--and thank him.

My daddy has always called me Dandy Andy.  Dandy, for short. I am his first born, and favorite (don't tell my sisters, they don't know that part).  My dad and I are very much alike. We can be a little feisty at times, love a good problem to solve, can be a little stubborn, and want to see people treated right. I have learned a lot of lessons from my dad over the years. Some serious, some funny, and some just good-to-know.

 I know that with bailing wire, duct tape and a Prince Albert can, you can fix most anything.

I know that if you wrap hot dogs in foil and set them on the engine of your car, you can drive around on a lazy Saturday  and they will be cooked when you are ready to eat.

I know that if you chew wheat, it turns to gum.

I know how fast a Fiat can really go on a dirt road when a kid is in the driver's seat for the first time. (He probably regretted that one.)

I know how fast a combine can stop. (Bet he regretted that one, too since he was standing up on it at the time.)

I know how to change a tire and oil in my car. I can even remove a radiator in a pinch.

I know it is never too late at night to call home for help.

I know that you should alway loan things without the expectation of getting them back. If it comes back, great. If it doesn't , it is okay because you didn't expect to anyway. (Sorry about that cowboy hat I borrowed as a prop, Dad. Oh, and the knife, too.)

I know that taking care of people who can't take care of themselves is important.

I know a good leader never stops learning how to be a good leader.

I know that God provides if you will just wait on him.

I know to be grateful for what I have.

I know to live one day at a time.

I know that if I am ever mistreated my dad will come to my defense. 

I know that love, forgiveness and grace are some of the best characteristics of God.

I know you just can't rush some things.

I know there is almost always more than one way to do things.

I know if you can't solve a problem, to walk away for a little bit and think of something else. It is amazing how often the answers will come to you then.

I know sometimes you have to let people learn things the hard way and that standing back and watching can be hard. 

I know serving God and others is always more important than serving yourself.

I know that being a parent doesn't stop when your kids are grown and that watching them struggle is never easy.

I know that my daddy would have gladly traded places with me during the past seven months fighting The Nuisance. I also know I wouldn't let him. He can't trade places with me, but he raised me well and taught me lessons that have helped me persevere through trial. I am grateful for my father. I am grateful for how he reflects my Heavenly Father.  I wish I could be with him to celebrate.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!

Love,

   Dandy

The Transplant List

I just heard a story of the Bingham family of North Powder, Oregon.  They have five children who have had, or will need, heart transplants due to genetic heart abnormalities. Two of the children have already received transplants, another a pacemaker, and the others will find themselves on the transplant list soon. Can you imagine the burden of that load? The physical, emotional and financial stress? My heart so goes out to them. The reporter stated that he had been surprised to find that in spite of it all, there was much happiness and gratitude in the home. I bet I know where that strength comes from.
Some heart transplants aren't physical.

I have been blessed to discover, like the Binghams, that it really is possible to find joy in distress, strength in challenges, gratitude in trials and courage in the face of fear, but it requires undergoing a heart transplant. You see human hearts have defects.  We are prone to complaining, doubt, fear, and discouragement. When trouble comes, our defective hearts immediately begin to race and expect the worst. They pound out  rhythms of defeat. They pulsate with fear. But new hearts are available. Psalm 51:10 says, "Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." With these new hearts, come new ways of seeing life. Trembling can be replaced with steadfastness.  Troubles don't disappear, but they no longer lead to heart failure. The great thing about this type of transplant is there is no waiting list or need to find the perfect match. The psalmist just asked for a new heart. In the New Testament, Jesus promised, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." Luke 11:9. No insurance policy required.

After a physical transplant, patients typically have a lifetime of medications to sustain their new found health. The same is true of a spiritual transplant. Maintenance is required. I find that my heart is subject to weakness if I don't care for it properly. The medicine for spiritual maintenance is prayer, scripture and fellowship with others who encourage, support and help with healing. The new heart you have received won't ever be taken away, but it may not function properly if you don't care for it. Don't forget you daily doses to keep you heart strong!

There are amazing outcomes from a spiritual heart transplant. Our prognosis is found in Psalm 112:7  "They will have no fear of bad news; their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord." I have a feeling that the Bingham family can claim that verse. I know I have found it to be true. The reporter of the Binghams's story said that it wasn't just the Bingham's that had been changed through this experience, but it was all of them involved with the story. He was changed. That is the power of a transplanted heart. It can touch others as well! 

I hope you will find the power of a transplanted heart!

Here is a link to this amazing family's story. Pray for their family! http://www.bendbulletin.com/article/20120715/NEWS0107/207150319/. Their story will be featured on Dateline 6/5/2013.