I do not go to church, but I still consider myself a believer

A little bit about yourself. Surgeon. I spend operations mainly on the upper intestine for 16 years. I was brought up in a strictly atheistic family. We never went to church, and religious holidays did not celebrate. I was an atheist as a child.

I will say at once that thanks to the work I saw this, after which the person will never be the same again. I have several deaths on my hands. Once I was wrong. Yes, I did mistakes before that. But my mistakes never led to death. I still do not understand how I could have made such stupid mistakes. I could all write off to the wild workload, fatigue, a headache ... I could find a million reasons, but I will not. I'm the only one to blame. My mistakes have become fatal.

After the first such mistake I could not sleep, I could not eat, I did not even want to talk to anyone. I tried to hide from everyone. I did not want to change anyone at all. As if something broke inside. I did not care about the consequences. I blamed myself for negligence. It was necessary then to be reinsured, but did not do it.

Somehow my heart began to beat after reading the Bible. I do not even know how the book was in my hands. Who gave it to me? Where did it come from? Apparently, the priest has forgotten, and maybe one of the visitors in the ordinarian left, I do not know.

I was finally convinced that the Higher Forces really exist, after the incident with the 20-year-old guy. He was brought to us with a fatal diagnosis. After that, they do not survive, but his mother begged to have him operated. She asked to cut off everything that would not work anymore, she asked to give her son to live at least an extra week so that relatives could say goodbye. Conducted the operation. I just could not not do it. And you know ... The guy lived a week. With him already said goodbye to all relatives, all friends. But he was not in a hurry to die ... lived another week. Has gone on the amendment. I did not even believe that he would survive. But this guy is now 27 years old, but he is alive. I know that he got a family, he has children. I know this, because every year on September 26 my mother calls me and thanks me. I'm uncomfortable listening to praise, but I can not drop the incoming call from her.

After another dozen "doomed" patients survived. I was looking for an explanation. Tried to find common sense, but did not find.

Now every time before the operation I read a prayer, I ask God to give me strength. And every time the Lord helps.