The Power of Staying Positive

Have you ever known someone who is just an all-in-all blessing to be around?  Positivity, folks.  It's not my strong suit.  (Though, I do think I deserve a little bit of credit for not being a complete pessimist these days.)  Let me take this opportunity to brag a little on someone who has had an outright tough time for the past several months.  Because this chick rocks.

This time last week, I received news that a dear friend of mine, Cindy, had been admitted to the hospital (again!) for various complications in her pregnancy with twins.  The poor woman had been suffering with hyperemesis since day one.  If you aren't aware, this is not your run-of-the-mill morning sickness.  It's morning sickness on steroids.  All day.  To the point of not being able to ingest fluids, running the risk of dehydration, and landing you in hospital, despite being on 24/7 anti-nausea meds.  It's bad, bad stuff.  You wouldn't have known it to talk to Cindy though.  She is always matter-of-fact about it, and not one, single time did I hear her utter a complaint or negative word, which, to me, is pretty incredible considering I complain pretty much non-stop, even when I'm not pregnant, and I'm certain I have no justification for any of it.  

Knowing that the doctors had been closely monitoring the developments in her health and the babies' conditions, we moved her baby shower up from Friday, August 8 to Friday, August 1, just to be "sure" the babies wouldn't arrive before we could shower them with some gifts.  Turns out, Cindy just really didn't want to hang out with me and the rest of the gals and went and got herself checked in to the hospital the day before.

There I was, lamenting the fact that I wasn't getting my much-anticipated night out with the gal pals, when we decided we'd take (at least some of) the party to her.  A handful of us were going to run up there Friday night to lift sweet Cindy's spirits.  As I texted back and forth with her to make sure she was up for company, I received this text:

"Well... The doctors have tested and evaluated, and today is Philip and Emily's birthday. Please pray for healthy deliveries by doctors with steady hands and awesome NICU nurses to take care of my babies."

Whoa.  Suddenly my girls night out seemed incredibly insignificant.  I have to tell you that not many things make you drop to your knees faster than the impending arrival of 27 week old twins.  We may not have been able to shower Cindy and her babies with gifts that day, but we definitely covered them in prayer.  It was one of those times I felt so helpless.  I wanted to do something.  To make everything okay.  

That's when it occurred to me.  Those prayers.  Those were the gifts.  In a situation like that, where there is absolutely nothing that we can do but pray?  It's not a last resort.  It's the first and only option.  It's the most powerful tool in my toolbox.  Not because I think we get what we want when we pray, but because God speaks to us, reveals Himself, calms us, conforms our will to His when we pray.

I was blessed to be able to talk to Cindy late that night after she safely delivered both of those precious babies.  I had hoped that in some way I might offer some encouragement or wisdom or cheer to her.  Pretty sure I failed at that.  I asked her, "Were you able to see the babies?"  She replied, "No, but I will tomorrow afternoon."  And after I offered my feeble, but sincere "sorry about that," she replied, "It's okay.  I look at it like this - most people don't get to see their babies until 40 weeks.  I get to see mine at 27."  See what I mean?  This is a glass is half-full woman.  She pulled the positivity number four or five more times in that same conversation, finding God's provision and protection in every facet of the events leading up to and during the delivery of those babies.  I began that phone call a nervous wreck, knowing I had no words to offer Cindy.  I hung up feeling like a million bucks after receiving encouragement from a woman who just hours before delivered twin babies at 27 weeks.  This is what a woman who dwells with the Spirit looks and sounds like, folks.  

I won't tell the story here because it's not mine to tell, but mostly because Cindy is so daggone good at telling a story!  (Go visit her, will you?  She'd love it!)  What I will tell you is that I'm blessed to know her.  And I will also ask that you keep her, Todd, their four year old, and the babies in your prayers.  Pray that the babies will grow stronger and healthier with each passing day, that Cindy can recuperate quickly and completely, and that Todd will have the fortitude to take care of them all. 

Thanks, y'all.  Remember to recognize your blessings.  I know Cindy does!  Life is so much better viewed through the lens of God's provision.  It's not just optimism.  It's hope.