When I started the pushup exercises way back in July, I could scarcely do ten. But I gradually worked my way up by doing intermittent bursts. I had to be careful because my 72-year-old shoulders might not have liked absolute, military-style, chest to the ground pushups. But I continued. Morning by morning, I would get up, read my Bible, and do bursts of pushups. I had no idea why these exercises would become so important.
Fast forward to yesterday, when we had an 18-year-old mother who went into cardiorespiratory arrest just as I was about to do her C/section. With the anesthetist handling the breathing and drugs, I was the only other person in the room with good CPR training. Did I do compressions for twenty minutes? Thirty minutes? I don’t know. But I know this: we had a live mother and a live baby at the end of the case, both breathing room air without a problem. Then I realized why God had me doing all those pushups!
I do not tell this story to glorify myself; if anybody is a hero, it is John Udimar, our Anesthetist, and Jesus, our Healer. But the take-home lesson is this: sometimes God has us begin doing difficult things, and we whine and complain. When God asks us to increase the number or amount of those things we are doing, we whine and complain even more… Right up until the day when God uses the strength we have gained to save lives. Think about it. Oh, and by the way, get certified in CPR and keep up your certification. You never know when you might be the one to save a life!