Waiting, Worrying, and Trusting God Through the Unknown
If you’ve ever waited for something that could change your life, you know this:
Time slows down.
After that first weekend — when my CARDI health monitor kept flashing “AFib” — I was stuck in limbo. I hadn’t seen a doctor yet. I didn’t have a formal diagnosis. But in my gut, I knew something wasn’t right. Every time I ran the scan, it showed the same thing: Atrial Fibrillation.
And so began the longest three days of my life.
I had to wait until Wednesday to see a cardiologist. Three days might not sound like much… but when your heart is involved, when every quiet moment reminds you of what might be happening inside your chest — three days can feel like three years.
Every Hour Felt Like a Battle
I tried to stay calm. I really did. But the truth is, I was scared.
Not in a screaming, panicked way — but in that deep, quiet, unsettling kind of fear. The kind that crawls into your thoughts and sits there. The kind that makes time move like molasses.
Every little flutter in my chest made me pause.
Every article I read — and yes, I read way too many — made my mind race in different directions.
Could I have a stroke?
Is this going to change everything about my life?
What happens next?
Will I even make it to Wednesday?
That’s where my head was — spinning, wondering, waiting.
The Steady Hand of My Wife
Through it all, my wife was incredible.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t panic. She didn’t let the fear in the room grow.
She was just… there. Present. Gentle. Strong. Her quiet support spoke louder than any sermon I’ve ever heard.
She held my hand when I couldn’t stop fidgeting.
She listened when I just needed to talk out loud.
She stayed near when silence said more than words.
In those three long days, her strength was a gift from God. She carried me in ways I didn’t even realize until later. I thank God for her every day — but especially for those first three days when I felt like I was unraveling inside.
When Faith and Fear Collide
Now here’s the thing: I wasn’t afraid to die.
I’ve been a believer long enough to know my eternal future is secure. I’ve placed my faith in Jesus Christ — the One who died for my sins and rose again. I know heaven is real. I know where I’m going when this life ends.
But I wasn’t ready. And that’s what broke me.
I wasn’t ready to leave my family. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the simple joys of life.
I wanted to keep making memories. I wanted to keep holding the people I love.
I still had things to do. Laughs to share. Words to say.
I still wanted to live.
And in that raw, emotional space between fear and faith, God met me.
Held by Grace
I remember sitting on the edge of the bed, whispering a prayer through tears.
“Lord, I trust You… but I’m scared.”
I didn’t hear a voice. I didn’t have a vision. But I did feel peace — quiet, steady, undeserved peace. A reminder that I wasn’t carrying this weight alone.
The verse that kept coming to mind was this:
“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God:
I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”
— Isaiah 41:10 (KJV)
Those words got me through the next hour.
Then the next.
Then the next.
I didn’t need the whole picture. I just needed to know God had me.
And He did.
For Anyone in a Season of Waiting…
If you’re waiting right now — for answers, for healing, for clarity — I want you to know:
You’re not alone.
God is not only in the results. He’s in the in-between. He’s in the longest nights. He’s in the what-ifs.
And if you’re blessed to have someone by your side, like I do in my wife — thank God for them. They are part of His grace too.
A Simple Prayer From My Heart
Lord,
Thank You for being near when I felt alone.
Thank You for surrounding me with love when fear tried to take over.
Help me — and help anyone reading this — to remember that You’re always working, even in the waiting.
You are good. You are near. And Your strength never runs out.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
I’ll never forget those three days.
They weren’t easy — but they were defining.
And through it all, I discovered this: even when everything else feels uncertain…
God never moves.
Let’s keep walking this road together — one breath, one prayer, one heartbeat at a time.
My Afib Journey 
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