On answered prayers. . .
A couple weeks ago on call, I had one of my trademark busy nights. I turned a quiet ICU into a bustling one. We intubated one patient with a heart rate double normal, another came back from the drainage of a large abscess that had formed in the middle of the brain, and then another kid stopped breathing, and we faced the inevitable dilemma: 3 patients , 2 ventilators.
Our devoted ICU nurses took each breath manually for the tiny one that was forgetting to breathe, and we looked at the other two intubated patients. Someone said, “Well, if we each take a one hour shift, then we will make it to the morning shift change. . .” We pulled over a stool a prepared for a very, very long night.
I walked over to the patient who had just come from the operating theatre and realized the tape was slightly loose around his breathing tube. I placed my thumb and forefinger around it as one of the other nurses brought tape to replace it.
As I sat there, I rested my head on my other hand and prayed. . .”Abba, I can’t choose, too many babies are too sick. . .who needs it more? What do we do?”
And in an instant, faster than lightning, the patient reached up, under my hand, and pulled out his own tube. I watched him breath, comfortable, and his oxygen stayed above 90%.
“I have a ventilator,” I said, and the nurse with other baby shook her head a smiled.
Three days later all 3 of those kids were off the breathing machine and improving, and I wondered at my surprise when my arrow prayer was answered so definitively. . .
He hears us. He sees. He knows. He knows the nights we will have less than we think we need – and many days, when we open our eyes to see, we will generour provision.
Some days, it will just be more dramatic than others.