Autopsy

I can see it now.

“Forty-six year old female. Died in her sleep,” recites the young lab assistant peering over the clip board from behind his thick glasses having tied his apron behind his back. “Cause unknown.”
“Whatever it was, she sure looks peaceful,” mumbles the pathologist, shaking her head slightly and pulling on her gloves.

“Okay,” the doctor focuses, pulling her chin-length hair behind her ears and situating her protective eye wear comfortably, “Let’s find out what’s going on here.” The Y incision takes shape as she works her way inward layer by layer to excise the heart. The assistant pulls his gloves tight and hands her the necessary instruments in turn while they casually converse about their upcoming weekend plans to attend the university’s annual music festival.

With both hands the doctor at last places the heart on the on the examination table and begins studying it, the assistant observing her technique. As the blade slowly penetrates the outer layer of the heart, blood dribbles down the sides and the organ begins trembling. The doctor and her assistant freeze at the heart’s spontaneous movement. Above it, their eyes lock together in unbelief.

As the heart continues trembling between them, the doctor’s professional hands become uneasy as the bloody scalpel drops with a clang on the examination table. With a sudden splatter of blood, the heart voluntarily ruptures as powerful blasts of praise burst throughout the lab, blowing the doctor’s and assistant’s hair back as if they were standing in a wind tunnel.

Completely overtaking the lab, the song, Thanks, by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir (Live…Again) blasts out at maximum volume on continual replay in sweet soaring victory. Loose papers blow astray swirling around the room, the hanging flourescent light above them flickers and swings back and forth and the instruments, beakers and glass cabinets rattle loudly.

The young assistant, now soaking in a cold sweat, breaks his frigidity turning an about-face and scurries out the rear swinging door and down the hall to the men’s room with the intention of splashing his face with cold water.

Left alone with the blast, the doctor steps back in consternation from the table seeking to regain her composure and make sense of the disruption. Finally acknowledging it as some type of music, she quickly removes her protective eye wear while searching the four corners of the rattling lab for the origin of the disturbance.

The doctor’s searching eyes exhausted, she looks back at the examination table at the heart still trembling. In overwhelm, she realizes the source of the outburst.

Startled, the doctor slowly backs away from the table untying her apron and peeling off her gloves. From a distance she throws them defensively in a bundle directly on top of the trembling organ hoping to drown out the music.

Out of options and reason, the pathologist turns and bursts through the rear door in search of her assistant to decide what in the world to do with the singing heart and what possible cause of death they could record in their findings.

Thanks
by Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
from Live…Again

Chorus:
Thanks! Thanks! I give you thanks
For all you’ve done
I am so blessed, my soul is at rest
Oh Lord, I give you thanks!

Verse 1
Thank you Lord for the strength you give to simply carry on
Though life’s toil and tests the worst and best never left alone
Always right beside me to hear me when I pray
And since I first began, you’ve been my dearest friend
I’ll give you all the praise!

Verse 2
Even in the bad times when everything is going wrong
Even on that mountain your loving presence makes me strong
Each and every moment, each and every day
I’ll sing and shout don’t let the rocks cry out
I’ll give you all the praise!

Luke 19:40
[Jesus} replied, I tell you that if these keep silent, the very stones will cry out.

2 Chronicles 20:22
And when they began to sing and to praise, the Lord set ambushments against the men of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir who had come against Judah, and they were [self-] slaughtered;

Psalm 9:2
I will rejoice in You and be in high spirits; I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High!

Psalm 150:6
Let everything that has breath and every breath of life praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! (Hallelujah!)

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About ashleydwille

Author Ashley D. Wille was always searching for spiritual answers. “True and lasting satisfaction always proved just out of reach. Now, in midlife, I have come to find my soul satiated in God. Through sweet surprises, difficult climbs, and excruciating valleys, the Master’s hand has shaped me. All along the way, God has taught me many things. What He has taught me most is that many of my beliefs about Him were wrong.” Her book, My Journey Through the Cross, is a personal insight shared by an amazing woman. Through her profound experiences and inner struggles, Wille shows how she was able to break through false layers of thinking and move into a deeper relationship with God. Her beautiful journey is just waiting to be shared. If you are ready to live your life free of guilt and shame, you too can learn how to walk in spiritual freedom.
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