As we sat in the waiting room just outside the coronary care unit at University of Maryland Hospital a middle-aged woman, who looked as if she had been camping out in the waiting room, sat alone. At one point she shared how her husband had been slowly deteriorating and had been in desperate need of a heart transplant. She said that he had received a heart from a young man who died in an accident in Harford County just the week before. Thanks to a new heart, her husband had a renewed hope that he had a few more chapters in his story.

I had never thought much about the importance of organ donations. Yet, my Maryland driver's license has a little heart on it that signifies my willingness for my organs to be used should my life suddenly end. Face to face with this stranger, I was reminded of the potential signified in that simple heart symbol.

As she spoke of her gratefulness for an answer to prayer and her hope for the future we realized that a week earlier our congregation had lost one of our precious young men, Josh Aversano.

Josh's death resulted in a change in the story of Richard, who had suffered for 15 years from an accidental gunshot wound to the face. Richard had made many trips to this medical facility working with a world-renowned doctor who was pioneering the radical idea of facial transplants.

Life for Richard was a story filled with darkness as he hid behind a mask, living more or less as a recluse. His mother and father had prayed for God to work a miracle in his life, but there seemed to be so little hope.

Randy and Gwen Aversano, members of our congregation, received the call that every parent prays they will never receive. While they were visiting Randy's mother in New York, their son, Josh, had stepped off a curb into an oncoming van and was ushered into eternity. Hoping against hope they made a hasty trip to Baltimore from New York to be informed that although there were no outward signs of trauma, Josh's brain showed no activity.

While dealing with that reality, they were approached regarding the possibility of organ donation. But this request was unusual. In another room in that hospital was Richard who desperately needed a new face. Josh was young and handsome and the match seemed to be perfect. 

The Aversanos made the gracious decision to donate Josh's face for the transplant. The doctor, Eduardo Rodriquez, was a deeply spiritual surgeon. His team of 150 doctors and medical personnel performed the 36-hour surgery. Rodriquez described the accomplishment as the 'most comprehensive face transplant in medical history.'

A year later, Randy and Gwen were honored by the medical center for their sacrificial decision. Also, they had opportunity to invite Richard, his family, and the doctor to be guests in their home. They were able to experience the transformation that Richard is enjoying these days and later were also featured in Ann Curry's documentary on the TV program 20/20 entitled 'A Face in the Crowd.' As Gwen had the opportunity to embrace Richard, she challenged him to be a good steward of the gift of Josh's face.

Often, I wonder what the story is behind a person's face. I realized that two stories have merged into one for these families. For Richard, it is a new beginning and a chance to live a normal life. His hope is still based on a present reality in this world.

For the Aversanos, it was the end of a dream, but also the knowledge that God has brought something meaningful out of a very tragic event in their lives.

The gift from Josh will leave an ongoing legacy not only for Richard, but also for others in similar situations.

Joshua had joined the marines and was scheduled to leave for boot camp on his 22nd birthday. The Aversanos believe Josh would have been pleased that his donation of a face to a young man without much hope would also pioneer the possibility of facial transplants for young men and women who return home from war with facial wounds or disfigurement.

Each week in church as I watch Gwen and Randy and interact with them, I know that these events, while bringing some meaning to their pain, do not change the daily reality of the loss of a son.

Recently, Randy shared these words with me from his journal: 'The dynamics of our family here on earth have been changed forever. We all miss Joshua very much and long to see him again. Now we have the tough job'to keep living without him. However, because God is faithful to his promises we live with the assurance that we will see him again. Surely, we can count on God if we put our faith, hope, and trust in him.'

As our congregation has made this journey with the Aversanos, there has been a greater sensitivity to the stewardship of our bodies. In watching two stories emerge, we have become more sensitive to the potential for changing the story of someone else.

Russ Long is senior pastor at Bel Air Church of the Nazarene in Bel Air, Maryland.

Holiness Today, January/February 2013

Please note: This article was originally published in 2013. All facts, figures, and titles were accurate to the best of our knowledge at that time but may have since changed.