Day One

Introduction

It was not until I started a long-term, residential recovery program for women and their children that I truly developed what I would call a prayer life. Before that, prayer was what I did in a crunch but rarely for no reason. It was more of a wish list than a conversation. And by the time something made its way to the list, it was probably a crisis – at least in my mind.

But now, I stay in constant prayer because the conversation never seems to end. If I’m completely transparent, there are times when my prayers feel redundant because I still don’t see an answer, and I struggle with patience. Other times, my thoughts are expressed through tears of frustration or even anger (because I know God can graciously handle my over-the-top emotions). And some days my prayers are just chatter with a good friend - or perhaps a weeping, “Oh, my word, Lord, look what you just did – you’re amazing!”

There are other aspects to prayer, however, that I have learned to appreciate through the years, such as sitting in silence with no agenda, simply asking God what’s on his heart, or thanking him for my many blessings before blurting out what I need or want.

The following stories are from my Blue Monarch journey and my own personal experiences, but they are examples of how prayer can sometimes take a shape or form we don’t expect, but they all demonstrate God’s grace and enormous heart. He has given each of us a tremendous gift of prayer – how amazing is it that we get to speak directly to our creator?! And how much better would it be if prayer could become the sharpest tool in our toolbox!

The title of this story is: “What did you do?!”

My journey with Blue Monarch has been filled with wonderful memories as well as some painful bumps along the way. When God asked me to take this on, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. And when I think back, my expectations were so incredibly low. I just had NO idea.

This could not have been clearer to me than when I witnessed the birth of our first Blue Monarch baby. It was our first year, and the program was brand new. As an artist with no social work background, I was just figuring things out as we went along. One of our first residents showed up pregnant. She hid it well, because we didn’t know she was expecting a baby until her water broke, which came as quite a surprise.

Chrystal was way too early to be going into labor, so she was rushed to the hospital for thirty days of bed rest. During this time, I frequently traveled an hour to visit her in Chattanooga, bringing lots of reading material and trying to structure some kind of productive program for her under the circumstances.

One thing I noticed was that this young woman was beginning to develop a personal relationship with God, which seemed pretty remarkable considering she was alone in her room most of the time, confined to the bed with very little to keep her busy.

Way before the thirty days were up, Chrystal called me one day and said, “Miss Susan, you’ve got to get here right away. I’m having an emergency C-section!”

I was suited up for the C-section, completely shocked they allowed ordinary people off the street to witness this dramatic surgery. But when the doctor lifted her baby out, I was horrified because he looked like a little dead bird. He was black from the knees down and looked completely lifeless. Fortunately, the mother was not able to see what I saw. They immediately whisked him away, and we returned to Chrystal’s room to wait for news. We waited… and waited… and waited. Three painful hours went by, and not one person could tell us anything about the baby. I noticed the nurses were avoiding eye contact. Things did not look good.

Finally, the young doctor entered the room and said, “We’ve tried everything to save your baby, but we’re not going to be able to. So, if you want to see him alive, you only have a few minutes left.” I was taken aback by the doctor’s bedside manner in such a traumatic moment and immediately assumed he must be conditioned from seeing this scene so often.

As you can imagine, our world turned upside down in a split second. Chrystal was extremely upset, and the entire NICU cleared out so we could visit her baby in privacy during his last moments. This time he looked like a dead bird in a box hooked up to a million wires. He was pitiful and tiny and lifeless.

The doctor pointed to a gauge overhead and said, “You see this number? This measures his blood oxygen level, and should be over 90. But as you can see, it’s only 20.”

After an understandable emotional breakdown, Chrystal decided to go back to her room because she did not want to watch him die. But it definitely did not feel right to leave him alone, so I stayed with her baby. I stuck my finger into an opening in his box and was surprised that even in his fragile state, he wrapped his tiny little hand around my finger. Christmas carols were quietly playing in the background, with Christmas only a few days away, which only made this moment even more surreal.

What in the world was happening? I thought I was going to help women get jobs, and I was about to watch a little baby die. I was angry with God in that moment and felt he had not been up front with me about the assignment I had been given. “This was not in the brochure!”

I watched the dreaded number continue to drop from 20 … to 16 … and then all the way down to 11.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that we needed to be praying for this baby! So, I got on the phone, called my daughter in the middle of the night, and asked her to call all her friends and start praying for a miracle.

Even though I had grown up in the church, I had heard about “the power of prayer” until it no longer meant anything. I couldn’t imagine how it could possibly make a difference at this point, but I sat next to the baby and prayed anyway as I listened to the Christmas music and braced myself for his inevitable death. I prayed hard, but I will admit, my faith was not even the size of a mustard seed.

Afraid of what I might see, I eventually peeked at the gauge, and much to my surprise, the number had begun to rise. It was back up to 20. Wow. Maybe it moves around? I kept watching as that number gradually climbed all the way up to over 90 again! It was unbelievable!

The nurses ran over to me and could not believe what they saw. They quickly fetched the doctor, and when he rushed over, he looked at me and demanded, “What did you do?!”

“I really don’t know. We just have a lot of folks praying for this baby.”

“Well, that’s some prayer team you people have! I’ve never seen anything like this!”

Little did I know that would not be our last miracle – not by a long shot – because we were in the business of saving lives. But for the first time in my life, I truly understood “the power of prayer.” It was so real.

Let’s pray: Lord, help me to truly grasp the supernatural power of prayer. Teach me to pray with unlimited expectations and faith. Amen

Personal Challenges and Reflection:

• Have you ever underestimated the difference prayer could make in a specific situation in your life? If you could re-live that event, what would you change to bring God into the center of it?
• Do you approach prayer with faith that God will actually hear you? Why or why not?
• When have you witnessed the supernatural power of prayer? Think of examples, even ones you may not have witnessed firsthand.