As a cardiac surgeon with a subspecialty in transplantation, God has given me many wonderful experiences. Some of the best memories are of heart transplants on Valentine's Day and Mother's Day. But Valentines Day 1999 was unique because of the type of transplant in which I assisted.

When I completed my cardiac surgical training in 1987, I thought personal fulfillment was just a paycheck away. Yet my life was empty, and I tried to fill it with high-adrenaline play, which included heliskiing, wind surfing and scuba diving. But the sense of futility remained, along with the nagging question, "Is that all there is?"

I came across a tape discussing the book of Ecclesiastes. After pursuing wisdom, pleasure, work, wealth and love, Solomon found all to be unfulfilling and meaningless. His concluding words were an admonition to "fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man" (Ecclesiastes 12:13). I realized my emptiness was the absence of God in my life, and there was no physical solution to my spiritual problem.

I believed I gave patients new hearts and new life until I realized that these used hearts would someday reject and stop beating. It was sobering to think that every patient I operated on would die. Only God can give someone a new heart and eternal life.

In Ezekiel 36:26, God says, "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." I realized I was the one who needed a new heart; without one, I would stay dead in my sin. So in Oct. 1989, I signed the consent and allowed God to transplant His heart in me.

In my surgical practice, I continued to transplant hearts, but I did not share the love of Christ with patients unless they were already Christians. I eased my conscience with excuses. Besides, was it even medically ethical to discuss spiritual issues with patients?

Last February I attended a METS [Medical Evangelist Training Seminar], where I learned there is no greater oxymoron than the one that says medical ethics mandates avoiding the spiritual aspects of patients during their physical healing process. After several days of prayer, worship and didactic training, the time came for my practicum. On Feb. 14, I was paired with a physician mentor, Dave Tellez, and turned loose on a hospital floor with the specific goal of fulfilling the Great Commission.

I first spoke with a young girl who had fallen out of a second story window, sustaining multiple lacerations and fractures. "I tried to commit suicide," she said, "but God has given me another chance." After encouragement, I went over the [gospel] with her, and we talked about her life. She accepted Christ as her Savior, and then, following a few shared tears, we talked about the implications of her commitment.

The next patient, another young woman, would not make eye contact or say why she was in the hospital. I was reminded of the story of the man who prayed to God without even looking up for his sins to be forgiven (Luke 18:10-14). I asked if she was willing to talk about spiritual matters, and she also said yes. We talked about Jesus and His love for her and what the gospel and salvation meant. Only then did she look at me and ask if she could accept Jesus into her heart.

Driving back to the conference, I was concerned about follow-up. I had spoken with two patients, both broken and in real need of spiritual healing. I felt as though I had made an incision and then just left. How would they heal? How would they grow in the Lord? Then I remembered Andrew, who simply brought people to the Lord and let Jesus do the rest.

I later learned that follow-up was a part of METS. But I was more reassured that I was not the attending on those girls' care; the Great Physician was. I was simply the orderly who had the great opportunity of wheeling their gurneys into His operating room.

All my excuses for not sharing Jesus during my workday have vanished. People know they are sick and in need of a Physician, and sharing His love is ethical and healing. My prayer is that we may all enjoy the opportunity of operating with the Great Physician, assisting Him in new heart transplants.

Dr. Rob Adamson practices cardiothoracic and vascular surgery in San Diego. He and his wife, Tonilee, have three children and enjoy leading worship at Horizon Christian Fellowship.