My dad had a very poorly functioning heart in the early 1990s and the only treatment he could be offered was an organ transplant. He was put on the waiting list which was 2 1/2 years long; he was given 2 years to live. I was never very hopeful of it working out and, in fact, turned my back on God at the time.
After nine months, my dad had no real quality of life and was slowly dying before our eyes. I jumped every time the phone in the kitchen rang (this was before mobile phones).
We had two false attempts before he finally got his new heart. He had been so ill and it felt like time was running out - we were overjoyed when he had the surgery. On behalf of my family, I wrote a short letter to the generous family of the heart donor to thank them. My dad had always been a fit, active man who played football and climbed Snowdon. While waiting for his transplant, I had to wheel him around in a wheelchair. It was heart-breaking. After having his new heart, he took up golf and represented the UK as a swimmer in the World Transplant Games.
Thanks to the wonderful generosity of a family from the north of England, my dad enjoyed another ten good years when he was able to give me away at my wedding, play golf and go horse riding with me, and spend time with his young grandchildren.
My dad really had two new hearts - one physical, the other spiritual. He wasn't perfect but no one could doubt he loved the Lord. He was whole-hearted in everything he did, including being a Christian.
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