Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth. -- Ps.124:8.

I work in an inner-city intensive-care unit that is routinely
fast-paced and somewhat chaotic. But during the few weeks before
Christmas the workload and stresses had reached such a fevered pitch
that even we seasoned "pillar" nurses were beginning to crumble.
Although we knew that Christ was the greatest gift, amid the blood and
beeps of a multitude of alarms it was easy to forget. Patients,
families, and staff all longed for a blessing to reassure us that we
were not forgotten, that this messy and dangerous work had meaning.

I was in charge of the unit that night. Tempers were short, alarms
mounted, and as I raced to reconnect another detached vent, I ran into
Katey, one of my other pillar nurses. She was red-eyed and mopping at
the tears running down her cheeks. "I can't take much more of this,"
she cried.

I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into room 287 where Mr.
Cooper, a comatose patient, slept the sleep of the dying. "We need to
pray right now!" I said, and my tears mingled with hers as we pleaded
with God to lay a shield over our unit, to protect our patients, to
give us strength to do the task, and to let the families of these
patients have some hope and peace, and that we would be permitted to
see the goodness of God. We raced back to our duties and rarely had
opportunity to speak the rest of our 12-hour shift. I would like to
tell you that the unit grew calm and manageable, but that didn't
happen. The frenzied pace rolled on, but God did have a miracle for us.

About 30 hours after our prayer session in room 287, Mr. Cooper
experienced a dramatic turnaround. This man had been in ICU for 33
days. He lay comatose, fevered, dying. But late that evening his lung
pressure dropped, his temperature normalized, and by morning he was
awakening from the coma. When Mr. Cooper could speak again, the staff
gathered in his room briefly to welcome him "back." The intensivist
gave him a gentle high five and said, "You're our 'miracle man.'"

To this Mr Cooper responded, "Well, I opened my eyes and see'd nurses
prayin'."

We were reassured that Immanuel was with us. We were not forgotten.
Joann Ashworth