If there is such a thing as muscle memory, then the memory of congestive heart failure is indelibly written into my heart muscle. My heart remembers and my body remembers. My body also remembers the time when all my organs worked seamlessly. Unfortunately, this physical reality is not meant to last, which I find very frustrating.
When I was a little girl I loved to watch Sesame Street. Glued to the television set, I enjoyed their show. I especially liked Oscar the Grouch and his song “I love Trash”:
“I have here a sneaker that’s tattered and worn
It’s all full of holes and the laces are torn
A gift from my mother the day I was born
I love it because it’s trash
Oh, I love trash!”
Oscar the Grouch loves trash, and in a sense we all do. We are trashy people of sorts because we tend to hang on to things that do not last, our health included.
Without wanting to sound like Debbie Downer, nobody is exempt from death; we all have to deal with this part of life sooner or later. The good news is: we are recyclable. Our bodies may fall apart, but thank God! Our souls are in for the long haul; our souls live forever.
If we call death a major dysfunction, then Jesus has come to restore us to functionality – Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life. It is faith that turns trash into gold. Futility and meaninglessness evaporates by the touch of His hand.
I embrace the Lord in my thoughts; He gives me life that defies death. My heart is set on eternity.