The Surgeon's Honest Prayer

In 2007, pediatric surgeon Dr. Catherine Musau stood in a poorly lit operating room in Kijabe, Kenya, staring at a newborn with a congenital defect she had never repaired. The infant's oxygen levels were dropping. Her nearest colleague with the right expertise was eight hours away in Nairobi. The equipment she needed did not exist in that hospital.

Catherine did something that would surprise no one who knew her. She stepped back from the table, placed both gloved hands at her sides, and said aloud to the team: "I do not know how to do this. But God does."

She was not being dramatic. She was being honest — the same gut-level honesty that King Jehoshaphat carried into the temple courts when three armies converged on Judah. "We have no power to face this vast army," he prayed. "We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You." No strategy. No alliance with Egypt. No pretending. Just a king who had run out of options telling the Almighty the plain truth.

Catherine operated for six hours that night. The child survived. She later said the knowledge came to her hands in pieces, one step at a time, never more than the next incision ahead.

That is the promise embedded in Jehoshaphat's prayer. When we stop pretending we have the power and fix our eyes on El Shaddai, He does not always remove the crisis — but He enters it, one faithful step at a time.