What good is prayer? What good are my prayers? After I found out that our Doodlebug died when I was 10 weeks pregnant, I didn't see any need to pray anymore. That's not to say I didn't pray; I still prayed, but I didn't expect those prayers to be answered. I didn't even realize I felt that way until my hubby mentioned praying about something and how I really felt popped out of my mouth, "Sure, ummm, you know what? There's no need for me to pray. God isn't listening to my prayers lately."
I've always known that sometimes God says, "no." I've always accepted that God knows best. Not this time. I couldn't have prayed anymore sincerely. My children prayed. Daily we asked that Doodlebug would grow strong and healthy. When I lay on the bed in the ultrasound room after the technician told me that she was sorry but she couldn't find a heartbeat, I prayed and cried and begged that the little heart would beat, that an arm would wave or a leg would kick. What kind of Daddy would say no to that prayer?
This morning that question was answered. The kind of Daddy who knows that His will is best. The kind of Daddy who could watch His son, His only son sweat great drops of blood while begging to not be crucified. The kind of Daddy who allowed His beloved Son's blood to cover my sin. The kind of Daddy who didn't allow me to be lost. The kind of Daddy who is love and must have suffered terribly while Jesus prayed.
The kind of Daddy who hurt with me while I prayed. The kind of Daddy who works all things together for the good of those who love Him. I don't understand, but I rest in His love for me.