A Song of Sacrificial Praise

Through Him [Jesus], therefore, let us constantly and all times offer up to God a sacrifice of praise, which is the fruit of lips that thankfully acknowledge and confess and glorify His name.  Hebrews 13:15 Amplified Bible

Okay, I get that it is very easy to offer praise when things are going well in our lives.  there are Family Celebrations like weddings, anniversaries, births. There are Life Celebrations like graduations, new jobs, promotions, retirements, new cars, new homes.  And there are so many other joyful reasons to lift our praise both great and small.  But the Bible doesn't tell us to praise God only when things are going well.

So what happens when we are crushed by circumstances?  What happens when our hearts have been shattered by the devastating choices of loved ones or others?  What happens when praising God is the absolutely last thing on our minds - and in our hearts?  Not only do we find it difficult to praise Him - we just don't want to.  That's a real emotion - we don't have it within our humanness to praise God when our world is lying in shards at our feet. 

Another question I have is this:  Is something really a sacrifice if we find it easy to do.  And not even just easy, but almost mindless - meaning that it's so easily and quickly done that we don't even have to stop and consider making the deliberate choice to praise.  It's not a sacrifice when our hearts automatically offer that praise without it costing us something.

According to the writer of Hebrews, we're supposed to praise Him anyway.  But wait, we don't have to do that in our own strength because we simply don't have the breath, the strength, or the will to do so.  Look at the verse again.  It says "Through Him" - we aren't being asked to do the impossible.  God has provided us a way to do what He has commanded us to do.  That Way is Jesus.  Through Him we live and move and have our meaning.  Through Him we can praise when praise is impossible.  Maybe you don't ever struggle with this; but, oh I do! 

A few days ago, I mentioned my Prodigal Daughter and said that she was facing harsh consequences because of her choices.  That post was written on October 4, my son's 30th birthday.  What I didn't realize is that just a few hours after that post was published, my daughter was arrested by federal marshalls.  I knew that her arrest was imminent because her probation officer had told us he was getting a warrant for that purpose.  I believe that's why I needed to put what I was feeling down in blog form that day - for myself, to help me with my struggles.

I knew that this was God's answer to my prayers because the road she has been traveling for nearly 7 years would have ended in something much worse if she hadn't been stopped.  My greatest fear was that her step-father and I would get a call in the middle of the night and have to go identify her body.  (I started to clean that last sentence up and use the word "concern" instead of fear, but that would have been a lie. And if my pain is to help someone else through theirs, I have to be honest with how I feel.)

On a day which should have been celebratory, I had to tell my son about her arrest.  Our phone conversation sounded a bit like this - "Happy Birthday, Son!!!  I can't believe I'm old enough to have a 30-year-old son.  I'm so proud of you, and of the way your life has turned out. (He too had been a Prodigal for a time.)  I love the woman you married and I adore my grandchildren.  You are such a good husband, father, and provider.  By the way, your sister was arrested this afternoon."

Since the day of that first post, my daughter has gone before the judge for sentencing.  She will spend the next year in a federal penentiary for women, 10 months of which will be in a drug treatment program.  And following her release, she will have another year of probation.  I don't even know where she will be sent yet - but it will not be anywhere near where we live.  We learned that there are 7 main sites which are scattered across the 48 states.  One is in an adjacent state, but that facility is almost always filled beyond capacity.  It is more likely that she will be too far away for us to visit.  She is 21-years-old and was a semester and a half from graduating with a college degree. 

So, I am struggling with being obedient in praising God right now.  Yet, I hold on to the fact that my prayer had been, "Do whatever it takes, no matter how my heart breaks, to bring her back to You, Oh Lord."  And that's all I prayed - because that's all He allowed me to pray.  I tried to pray for her safety - but God stopped me.  I tried to pray that she would be able to finish this semester so that she wouldn't lose all those hours and all that money - but God stopped me.  I tried to pray that she would turn around without having to go back to prison - but God stopped me.  I tried to pray that she would choose different friends, different activities, have a different attitude - but again, God stopped me.  What He wanted was for me to surrender my precious baby girl to Him.

I am grieving the death of many dreams I had for her.  I am grieving for the baby I carried in my womb; the infant who loved singing with me during those wee-hours feedings; the toddler whose knees and elbows I "kissed and made better"; the elementary school child who would sneak "I love you, Mommy!" notes into my purse so that I would find them later in the day.  I know that she's still in there somewhere and I hope to see her again someday.  But I have to trust God to do what I prayed for - and what He wants to do in her life.  But He can't work in her life if I get in His way.

As parents, we want to shelter our children from anything harmful.  But there are times that we have to allow them to feel the consequences of their choices in order to teach them what is good and right and true.  Do you remember teaching your baby the meaning of "hot, don't touch"?  I have bandaged tiny hands that touched anyway; so did my own mother when I didn't listen.  I can't rescue her.  I can't save her.  I can't do anything in this situation but to tell her that my love for her is unchanged - it's unconditional. 

If anyone had asked me a few years ago if my daughter's salvation experience at age seven was true, I would have answered, "Yes!"  Now, after talking with our Ministers and viewing her choices honestly, I have to answer that I am not sure.  So that's the only prayer that makes sense right now - that God would either draw her to Himself and that she would ask Jesus to be her Savior and Lord; or that God would draw her back to Himself from where she has strayed. I know that it is His Will for all of us come to Him through Jesus and become adopted sons and daughters.

So today I simply ask God to help me leave my daughter in His hands.  And I choose to offer the sacrifice of praise believing that He will have the victory in her life.  Does it hurt to praise Him for what is happening in her life right now?  Yes.  Do I have moments when the grief overtakes me?  Yes.  Is praising Him in this situation one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.  Yes. But I am not offering praise in my own strength.  I am able to offer praise because of Jesus - through Jesus' strength, I can and I will.

"We bring the sacrifice of praise into the House of the Lord;
We bring the sacrifice of praise into the House of the Lord.
And we offer up to You the sacrifices of Thanksgiving.
And we offer up to You the sacrifices of Joy."

A Song of Promises

In the spring of  '98, my daughter and I moved from the only home she had known.  Apartment living was necessary following a divorce and the dissolution of our family.  We were recovering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome resulting from prolonged abuse.  Though funds were meager, we needed to put our "handprints" on the apartment walls.  She found a clock at Wal-Mart that she *had* to have.  Different photos of North American Birds replaced the numbers; and the clock chirped each hour with the corresponding bird's signature song. It wasn't long before we recognized the time by birdsong. 

An included pamphlet described the male and female birds, the nest, the eggs, and the hatchlings.  It also described each bird's song.  For eleven of the birds, there was only one song.  Some birds, like Whip-or-wills or Bobwhites, sang their names.  Others, like Crows, mearly squawked.  But one bird had multiple songs - the little sparrow. 

I find it amazing that God chose to bestow such a gift on a nondescript little bird.  The sparrow isn't beautiful to look at like a Cardinal, and none of its songs are the stuff of legends like a  Nightingale's.   Sparrows aren't even popular for Bird Watching, but they are precious to God.

Our first days in the apartment were dark and difficult - filled with counseling and prayer.  Eight months after her father's arrest, we both still trembled and cried out in the night from flashbacks and nightmares. She was so terrified of a tiny sprinkling rain, she would run to my bed shaking so hard that the whole bed quaked.   Through it all, we  felt God's love through the prayers and hugs of family and friends.

Gradually tears and terrors were replaced by joy and laughter.  God didn't forget us or forsake us.  He held our shattered hearts together and taught them to beat again.  He filled our lungs with breath when we didn't have the strength or will to breathe on our own.  He didn't promise our path would be easy, but He promised to go before us and make our paths straight.  He didn't promise to put back together that which had been shattered, but He promised to make all things new and restore what was lost.  He gave us new songs to sing.

My little girl is now my Prodigal Daughter.  In her quest for independence, she has turned away from God and faces harsh consequences because of her choices.  "I'm grown and I can do what I want to!" has replaced her Godsong.  My heart is shattered again and I find it difficult to sing.  But I trust God to bring us through.  I am like the sparrow.  He promises not to forget about me or to push me aside as being unimportant.  He knows my name and He will place a new song in my heart.