“Jen! You need to come right now. Jonathan just collapsed and I don’t know what’s happening.”

Those were the words that turned my world upside down. It was Sunday, February 19th, 2023. I was helping in the babies area that day, but a friend who was on the worship team suddenly came to get me. My husband had collapsed leading worship and looked like he had a stroke. I rushed in to see what was going on and stood in shock at the back of the room, not knowing what was going on. By a miracle of God’s grace, a nurse with a cardiothoracic background and her husband who is a PA were on the front row. They rushed to help him and I watched as they called 911. At that point the service officially stopped and I ran up to him. He said he felt something like a shockwave go down his spine, but was kind of out of it. The nurse and her husband had a gut feeling that it was a dissection (more on what that is exactly later) and suspected it might be the worst-case scenario. I had no clue what was going on, but he didn’t look good. It seemed like seconds later that the EMTs arrived. They started to work with him, but became more and more grave as they couldn’t find any blood pressure whatsoever. Within a few minutes he was on a stretcher headed out to the ambulance.

“We’re going to Jordan Valley Hospital,” the medic said.

“Can I ride with him?” I responded.

“No mam. Just follow us, but don’t rush. He’ll be in the ER when you get there.”

I had little grasp on what was happening, but followed the ambulance to the hospital with the twins, thinking it might just be a few hours and he’d be fine. Friends kept our oldest three, and another friend followed me to help at the ER. I found out later that the medic on the team also suspected a dissection and called ahead to the hospital to let them know they were coming in hot and to get a helicopter for transfer ASAP.

Once I arrived at the hospital, I was told he was rushed back for a CT scan. When he got out, there 3 or 4 people working to prep him to be life-flighted. It feels like a blur to me, and I honestly have to try hard to remember some of the details. Once they started talking about the helicopter transfer and which hospital he’d be going to for emergency surgery, I knew it was very, very serious. I remember Jonathan was worried about something trivial in the moment and I responded, “Babe, they’re just trying to save your life!” He prayed for God’s blessing, and we said “I love you.”

“Tell the kids I love them!” he said.

It broke my heart, thinking that I might be the one who has to tell them for the rest of their lives. My friend took the twins home, and I called for a ride to the hospital. Then I had the brutal task of calling our parents to tell them all I knew…which meant they might never see their son/ son-in-law again.

I didn’t know much about aortic dissections, so what the ER doctor told me sounded like gobbledygook. I just knew it was serious. I remember asking the ER doctor, “What are his chances?” to no response that I remember. I now know it was a grave situation. Dissections are rare, so the fact that the medical personel recognized it is a huge piece of how God saved Jonathan’s life. I’ll explain: an aortic dissection happens when the main artery that carries blood from your heart to the rest of your body starts to tear. Then, pressure builds until blood surges through the tear and causes the tissues inside to separate suddenly. This restricts the flow of blood to the rest of the body, and the base of the aorta is at risk to rupture completely causing instant death. This tear happened in one moment and tore from his carotid arteries down through his legs. His tear was within millimeters of reaching his pulmonary artery, which would also have meant instant death. This is a deadly condition if not recognized and treated quickly. We were told that 98% of people with an aortic dissection don’t make it through the ambulance ride to the hospital. I had no idea of all of this, or I would have assuredly been torn in pieces. My retrospective knowledge makes me so grateful that Jonathan was exactly in the right place to receive help. If he was at home working in his office or driving, or even just during the message time of the service, I could be writing a very different story. God was in every single detail of this day and truly worked a miracle.

The ER team said there was a good chance I wouldn’t see him after his helicopter transfer, since he’d go to surgery immediately upon arrival. This was another clue to the seriousness of his condition. It started to hit me that I might possibly never see him again. A friend drove me to the hospital while I texted everyone I could think of to pray during the drive. Thankfully we did arrive at IMC before his helicopter arrived. As I waited, I fell on my knees in the waiting room.

“God, please spare His life! I have no other words, Lord, but I beg you to let him live! But Your will be done, Lord. Help me!”

I had few words and little faith, but I threw it all on the Lord. He knew my desires and my desperate plea that my children would not be fatherless and that I wouldn’t be a widow that day. I tried my best to surrender his life and my fears. At one point I pressed my face up to the doors I was locked out of, desperate to see him ok. Soon I heard his helicopter land and was allowed to see him as they prepped him.

“There’s no way to know what we’ll find when we open him up. Sometimes you just can’t put it all back together,” said the surgeon.

He continued to say that there was a 40% chance he’d make it through the surgery and that he just lost a 45-year-old to the same thing a few weeks prior. “It’s time” said a nurse, and I had to leave.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” I said to Jonathan.

I hoped it would be the other side of surgery, not eternity.

It was a grueling 9-hour surgery, and I thank God that 4-6 different friends were with me through the wait at different points. Still, the hours crept by. At 11 pm the surgeon came out to tell me, “It’s done.” (The bedside manner was a little wanting.) But praise God he made it through! I still had no idea what all they had just done. The surgeon explained a little and gave me a leftover piece of the Teflon graft they used to replace the dangerously damaged part of his aorta. The rest was still torn, but it seemed like if he did well in the ICU then he’d be out of the woods. When I walked in to see him a few minutes later, there were cords and tubes everywhere. It was an awful sight, but in the moment I was just grateful to see him in whatever shape. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. I wasn’t allowed to stay the night in the ICU, so once my dad, sister Michelle, and Jonathan’s mom arrived from the airport, we all went home. I slept very little and prayed most of the night that Jonathan would continue to live.

Early the next morning I went back up to the hospital with Jonathan’s mom while my dad and sister stayed at the house to help with the kids. He was in rough shape. I felt like passing out often because of what I had to witness. Seeing the wounds from where they sawed open his sternum and the 10-12 medications flowing into him through a tube in his neck they called “the train”, made the gravity of what he’d just been through sink in. He was pale as a sheet, bloated everywhere, covered front head to toe in iodine from surgery, and had blood coming out of tubes in several places. His stomach was bleeding and the ER team was also concerned about damage to his liver, kidneys, and brain. There were so many things that could complicate his recovery, or make it to where he never recovered.

“He might not remember you when he wakes up. He might not be able to speak well. He might be confused, but it should come back.” they warned us.

They slowly woke him up throughout the day and I was anxious to meet his eyes again. As he woke, he struggled and gagged due to the breathing tube. He had tears in his eyes and I could see he was in so much pain. It was so awful to watch him suffer and know I couldn’t help him. At one point his mom and I had to hold his arms down because he’d woken up and was trying to pull out his breathing tube. I had to walk out of the room several times just to get some air so I didn’t throw up. That afternoon the nurses tried to get Jonathan off the breathing tube, but it was too excruciating for me to watch him struggle so much and so I had to step out. Thankfully, he did come off of the ventilator and breathe on his own with the high-flow oxygen in his nose. Friends were in and out, bringing food and praying with us. After a few hours off of the breathing tube, Jonathan was able to talk a little bit and started to respond to me. He even said, “I love you too.” Seeing him awake and recognize me, even for just a moment felt like being given the world. I was so exhausted, but so very grateful for the Lord’s merciful hand on him. He was back, at least a little bit, and he recognized me! His stomach was still bleeding, but the dangerous 24-hour period had almost passed so I was hopeful. But really, I was just beginning to understand the long road we had ahead yet.

I had so little left in me by the time we got home Monday night. It was the most excruciating 36 hours I have ever experienced. I sat down at midnight to try to type out an update for those who were praying. (And so many were praying! I was overwhelmed!) But I had nothing. How can you even start to express that your husband almost died and looks barely alive?

“God give me Your words!” I prayed.

He did, and I wrote these words along with a few details about what had happened:

“I keep thinking about the lyric from the song “This is Our God” he was singing when his aorta tore:

“Who rescued me from that grave?
Yahweh, Yahweh
Who gets the glory and praise?
Nobody but Him!”

God has indeed seemed to have rescued him from an early grave for today in so many ways through the last 36 hours. But also, Jesus has rescued him from eternal death and separation from God. If he had died right after the words left his lips, the lyric would not have been any less true! Though we do not understand why a perfectly healthy 35-year-old would have to have emergency heart surgery, we are assured that Jonathan has surrendered His life to Jesus and NOTHING, not even death can separate him from the love of Jesus. Yesterday, today, and on every other day until the day he dies, he stands justified before God through the blood of Jesus on the cross! He gets the glory and praise!

I really have little left in me for more words, but I beg any of you who read this - be sure of your eternity. Yesterday should have been my husband’s last day on earth. No one is assured of tomorrow! Have you put your whole trust in Jesus, by grace alone through faith alone? Are you trying to be justified by what you do that is good or on the FINISHED and COMPLETED work of Jesus on the cross? Don’t pass by His grace! He alone is worthy of living and dying for.”

And I still hold to those words. There is much more to the story, but the bottom line is and always was that Jesus is the only place to put our trust, no matter what happens. Through it all, He was good and faithful.

I found Jesus to be my bedrock in that ICU room, and in the many days that followed.