I suppose if treating victims with traumatic injuries is what you do every day, you're not easily moved emotionally by what you see. Unless it's something really above and beyond.
What the head of trauma unit saw the day of the Tucson shootings must have been in that category. As she told about what she saw in Mavy Stoddard that awful day, you could tell she was moved. In the midst of being treated for her gunshot wounds, Mavy was praying. Out loud. For all the others who had been wounded. For the medical staff who were racing to help them. For those who had watched someone they love die.
One of those was Mavy's beloved husband, Dorwin - who had died shielding her from the deadly gunfire. The lady from the trauma unit was clearly emotional as she said, "Here this lady is wounded herself...she's just lost her husband...and she's lying there, just caring about everyone else. Praying for everyone else."
That didn't just touch the trauma doctor. It touches me. And it reminds me of the incredible power there is in praying with people in a time of trauma. Not just praying for them, but praying with them. Some of the most beautiful open doors I've had to tell about my Jesus have come when I was able to pray with someone about their personal crisis. Sometimes when I open my eyes, there are tears in theirs.
Mavy Stoddard was in one of the darkest hours of her life. That's when all of us Jesus-lovers have the greatest platform from which to talk about our Jesus. At the time when we're the weakest and most wounded, we are uniquely positioned to show the power and love of Jesus.
Your light never shines more brightly than when you're in your darkest hour.