I have spent the bulk of my life in hospitals.

As a physical therapist and as the daughter of a hospital pharmacist.

My brother and I would sit on the floor of our father’s (tucked in the farthest

corner of the hospital basement) pharmacy and spin lids onto empty

prescription bottles.

Whenever there happened to be a child

needing an overnight or extended stay, our father would have us

visit.

You know, the healing wonders of a friendly face.

Several years ago, a new hospital was built and during a visit

with my parents, my dad gave me a tour.

We had barely begun the tour and my tear ducts disobeyed me.

I remembered the old hospital but this new building was like

the most beautiful cathedral of healing.

It’s common to fear hospitals, it is understandable

as they can be a frightening place.

Hospitals have always felt like church to me.

In fact, the reverse should be true.

Churches should be like hospitals.

A sanctuary of healing for everyone with various types

of sickness.

The place where you find company when you fretted you would sit alone.

A setting where you are engulfed by outstretched arms helping you to stand.

*****

After dabbling in writing classes and filling stacks of journals,

I decided to start a blog.

Before I could bring this blog into existence,

I had to decide on a name.

For a person who adores words, this was not an easy task.

As I grappled with calling

and purpose, the echo in  my ear kept reminding me,

I was God’s work of art.

Each one of us is a priceless and unique work of art.

The patch of time where I had struggled most intensely with identity,

faith and living in the midst of trials required deep intricate surgery.

It was heart work which could only be adequately performed

by a masterful Physician.

A Work of Heart was born on August 26, 2006, a day

after my 42nd birthday.

Initially I only made my address known to my family and a few friends.

Over time I grew stronger in my passion to encourage others and

I made my blog public.

The landscape in the blogging world has changed immensely.

Initially I had to explain to many what a blog was and now

it seems everyone has one or knows someone who blogs.

Year by year I began to find my voice and grew braver.

My original tagline was Fresh Ink From Above.

I felt as if God was reaching his hand down upon my own and

infiltrating every drop of ink onto the page.

I never recapped my pen without feeling as if

God had mingled with me and met me.

As I have written often, writing felt like prayer.

Is it any surprise to know I envision

A Work of Heart as a hospital?

I hope when you spend a moment on this blog

you will be able to find respite from the downpours

of life.

I am here to open up the most expansive

umbrella of encouragement over you.

I want you to take off your coat and shake

off some of the debris of life.

Although a hospital is hallowed ground,

I don’t expect shoe removal as I know

your time is precious.

In fact there are three wards in this hospital

I want you to remember:

• Pay Attention
  A Work of Heart is the art of paying attention to
  God in our midst.
  He is everywhere.
  I have found him slices of pizza, hailstorms,
  the pages of books and at the foot of wheelchairs.
  Search for him in the spectacular ordinary days of life.
• Rest
  We all belong to a collective group of weary travelers.
  I am hiking right beside you.
  We were meant for work but we were also meant for play
  and refreshment.
  Don’t forget to plan time for less of everything.
• You are not alone
  I pray there will be a word, a sentence or a paragraph
  which will reinforce the reality that you are not alone.
  You are not alone in your struggles.
  Last week, when I shared about empty wrappers,
  a friend on Facebook wrote,
  “We are all the same!”
  We were meant to share this life experience by giving
  voice to our commonalities.
  I will continue to unwrap my struggles along with
  my triumphs.
  Let’s walk this unpaved road together.

The very best part of A Work of Heart is you can visit

without having to leave the comfort of your home or

change out of your pajamas.

Better yet, I don’t have to drag you out of bed!

I long to lean in close and whisper words you need

to remember.

You know these words, they reside within you,

perhaps you have

just forgotten.

When I press publish, this will be my

700th post.

I think God knew there would be a milestone to celebrate

at the conclusion of recapping my blog history which

is part of my story.

I am so humbled whenever I find evidence of someone’s visit here.

There have been a wealth of words written this week but never

enough words to capture the God who escorted me to this space.

You see, I am a girl who needs every ward in the hospital too

as I tend to race off on my horse at full speed.

I don’t always pay attention to the signposts as I forge ahead on my path.

I collapse exhausted in need of rest and relief from my folly.

Yet in the distance, I hear the sound of galloping and I am scooped

up by the Father.

He has pursued me and chased me down,

not to scold me or even to shake my shoulders in dismay.

He simply has been trying to catch up to me so he can reaffirm

His love

and delight in me.

Here’s the clincher,

no matter how far away I ride,

no matter how deeply foolish the mistakes I make,

he reminds me He has always been

right beside me even when I couldn’t hear the panting of

his horse’s breath.

Welcome my friends to A Work of Heart.

*****

This is the final post in a series called A Work of Heart History.

If you have a thirst for more words, you can read the previous

entries here, here, here and don’t forget here.
~~photo credit: Fahad Zahid