Sacrifice of Praise
“Lord, did you decide to take
away my morning sickness, or is there a problem?” I asked
each morning. I felt a sense of foreboding in my spirit,
and soon began to pray fervently that God would bring the
morning sickness. I longed for that feeling of nausea and
Finally, I forced myself to
see the doctor. He confirmed that there indeed was a problem.
“We can wait it out, if you want…but really you ought to
go ahead and end this pregnancy.” he advised.
I assured him that I would
wait to see what God would do, and then I left his office.
Tears blurred my eyes and I could barely find the door.
I tried to call Ken, but my cell phone wouldn’t work.
I fought my way to the bathroom
down the hall and locked myself in a stall. Thankfully,
no one was there. I threw myself to the floor in a storm
of tears. Even though the doctor had not told me it was
completely hopeless, I still knew in my spirit that this
baby would not survive. No words even came to mind as I
As I drove home alone, my mind
still searched for something to pray.
Nothing came! I knew the Spirit
was interceding for me (Romans 8:26-27), but I still wanted
to say something to the Father, my Father. All I could think
of were Job’s words: The Lord gave
and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be
praised (Job 1:21).
Each time I repeated that verse,
God filled me with His strength. The
Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the
Lord be praised.
Though my heart was broken,
His Spirit was teaching me to praise Him—in the midst of
my despair. I didn’t even want to praise Him. But the words
After awhile, I pulled up in
front of the house. By this time, I had given the news to
Ken, and he had told our older children. My firstborn son,
my precious twelve-year-old Bracken, came bursting out of
I quickly wiped my face. I
wanted to be strong! I didn’t want him to see me crying.
He was crying. He grabbed me
in a hug and whispered through his tears, “Romans 8:28,
Mom, remember? Romans 8:28!”
I remembered. It was just a
few verses away from the ones I had been thinking of—about
how the Sprit was interceding for me.
He began to repeat the verse.
I repeated it with him, in my mind. And
we know that in all things God works for the good of those
who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
The next few weeks were full
of prayers and trips to the doctor for sonograms. There
was still no change and seemingly no life inside my womb.
“You can still work a miracle,
Father, You know You can! Breathe life into this little
one! Please, God! Don’t forsake us! We want this baby!”
I constantly interceded for my little one. I looked up verse
after verse on prayer, and I prayed in Jesus’ name.
may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.
I claimed this verse for my
baby. Still there was no change. The doctor gently recommended
that we do something, but I wouldn’t listen. I wanted God
to do something.
Finally, after several more
weeks, my body let go and miscarried. I felt like all of
my hopes and dreams, and even joy left along with the evidence
of my pregnancy. It was God’s decision. It seemed so final.
And I didn’t like it.
I spent the next few weeks
in bed. Because of this difficult pregnancy, I also lost
an ovary. The doctor said it would be possible for me to
become pregnant again, but not easily. And at my age, he
said, I was at greater risk of losing more babies.
While in bed, I brooded before
the Lord. “Your promises must not be true!” I complained.
“After all, I prayed for this baby in Your Name! Why didn’t
You let the baby live? Why didn’t You work a miracle? You
healed Jonah… why not this baby?”
My listlessness and depression
concerned my family. Bracken was particularly attentive
to my sorrow. Though he didn’t know what to say that would
make me feel better, he wanted to help. I woke up one afternoon
to his playing violin in our bedroom, near where I had been
napping. He was playing hymns and practicing his violin
songs—something he knew I loved listening to.
He wanted to be sure I heard.
As I lay there listening, my
eyes fell upon a book…His book…God’s Word…the Bible. Slowly
I picked it up. I knew I should have been reading all along.
As I opened the cover, God began his anointing oil of healing,
to my soul…
I wish I could give you a lot
of easy answers. I wish I could tell you exactly why God
chose not to let this baby live on earth. I wish I could
explain why babies die and mothers miscarry. I wish I could
even tell you that I understand everything about praying.
But I can’t, and I don’t.
What I can tell you is that
God is a loving, sovereign God, who cried with me throughout
the short life, and then death of my baby. I know that He
eagerly and gently took that little miracle in His arms
when it was time.
I also know that I don’t get
everything that I ask for, and that I must just trust Him
in those times. Praying in Jesus’ name doesn’t mean I’ll
get what I want if I speak those specific words. It means
that I am willing to submit to His best, His sovereignty,
and His decision. It’s an act of obedience on my part, and
it takes a huge step of faith to receive His decision joyfully.
I have also learned what it
means to truly give that sacrifice of praise.
Though I must admit I don’t
always do it, I have learned what it means to praise Him,
even when I don’t feel like it. It is my privilege to offer
this sacrifice to Him. He deserves everything I have to
offer. As I continue to grow in Him, I pray that more and
more I will praise Him, in every circumstance of my life.
Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice
the fruit of lips that confess his name.
Copyright © 2011. Faith Matters by Lygia Lovelace.
All rights reserved. KenLovelaceMinistries.com