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Rhythms & Roots · Letters to the Churches

He Still Heals on the Sabbath

By Donnie Hinshaw · May 3, 2026

At 4 AM, I began reading Scripture over my dad as he rested with his eyes closed.

Verse after verse… until I read Isaiah 26.

He opened his eyes and said, “I really like that one.”

That was the moment.

Not strength.
Not certainty.
But trust.

Scripture Anchor

“You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.
Trust in the Lord forever,
for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.”
— Isaiah 26:3–4 (ESV)

God is at work—even here.
But we only see it if we’re paying attention.

4:00 AM — Perfect Peace

At about 4 AM, I began reading Scripture over my dad while he rested with his eyes closed.

Verse after verse.
Dozens of them.

And then I read Isaiah 26:3–4.

He opened his eyes.

And said, “I really like that one.”

That was the moment.

Not strength.
Not certainty.
But trust.

A Different Kind of Strength

I watched my father—the strongest man I’ve ever known—
step into something deeper than strength.

Surrender.

He felt the weight of what was coming.

There were moments that broke his heart—
like needing help with things my mom had always done for him.

And yet, in those moments, something beautiful happened.

He apologized to the nurses.

Over and over.

And instead of creating distance…
it drew them closer.

A Room Full of Grace

Every nurse.
Every staff member.

They didn’t just care for him—they enjoyed him.

He thanked each one.

Looked them in the eyes.

And told them:

“I trust you with my life.
I’m grateful God put you in my path.”

And God revealed something:

He had already placed people in that room.

People of faith.

His nurse, Emily, shared the reason for the cross around her neck—
her trust in Jesus.

She told me:

“You don’t know how many people I’ve prayed for in this hospital…
I consider it a privilege to quietly sit behind these walls and pray.”

6:00 AM — Anointed

My mom arrived.

Others gathered.

We anointed him.
We prayed over him.
We lifted him up to the Father.

And for the first time in my life…

My dad wasn’t the one praying over someone else.

He was the one being prayed for.

And strangely—

he received it.

He rested in it.

He surrendered into it.

A Prayer That Changes Everything

In the quiet of that room, he said something I will never forget:

“Donnie, I told the Lord…
if You want to give me five more years,
I’ll serve You with everything I have.

But if You’re ready to take me home…
I’m ready to come.”

It broke me.

And at the same time—

it set me free.

7:00 AM — A Man Named Daniel

He was wheeled out by a man named Daniel.

Of course.

Another Daniel.

A name known for strength.
A man with a story too.

He shared how he had open-heart surgery in 2019.

Now off oxygen.
Off blood thinners.
Working two full-time jobs.

My dad looked at him and said:

“That means a lot to me. I like that story.”

And you could see it—

faith building.

He Still Heals on the Sabbath

Before surgery, my dad reflected on something powerful:

How Jesus angered the religious leaders
by healing on the Sabbath.

Then he looked at his own story:

Wednesday — cardiologist
Friday — ER
Saturday — admitted
Sunday — open-heart surgery

An entire surgical team called in.

Doctors. Nurses. Techs. Staff.

All showing up.

My cousin Carol, a surgical nurse for 25 years, texted:

“They’re all getting overtime… because you’re worth it.”

And I couldn’t help but think:

Jesus doesn’t take a day off.

Into the Light

We prayed.

We said we loved him.

And they wheeled him back.

As a former medical photographer at this very hospital, I could see it through a lens and yet feel it with my heart and concern:

The room.
The lights.
The team surrounding him.

And one thought stayed with me:

He is not alone.

On the Machine

At 10:17 AM, we got the update:

He was on bypass.

His heart no longer beating on its own.

Fully in the hands of others.

Or so it seemed.

11:25 AM — Worship

We waited.

We sat in silence.
We tried to distract ourselves.

Then we knew:

It was time.

We worshiped at 11:25 AM

At 11:28 AM—

the message came.

He was off bypass.

We praised all the more.
We cried.
We thanked God.

12:09 PM — It Is Finished

The call came.

Surgery complete.

The report:

The valve replacement went well
Blood is flowing properly
The AFib procedures were successful
Rhythm may fluctuate for a time, which is expected
And…

To their surprise, they repaired a small hole in his heart—
something Doctor Jordan Hoffman said to my tearful mom, “Vicki, he likely had since birth.” Mom: “I’m so sorry I’m so weepy.” — “Vicki, we do this all the time.”

At 12:41 PM - a new message, “The surgery is now complete.”

Take Home

Trust is not the absence of fear.
It is surrender in the middle of it.