What I Learned When I Dedicated My Daughter to God

“Now, baby dedication does not save a child. What these parents are saying is that they will do their best to live according to God’s Word, to raise this child in the love and admonition of the Lord, so that one day, he will have the opportunity to trust Christ as his Saviour and learn to live a life that pleases the Lord.”

I have heard my pastor begin our baby dedication services with his statement dozens of times. However, it was not until the day I dedicated my daughter that I learned what it really meant.

My husband and I had been married longer than ten years and still had not been blessed with the child we so deeply desired. We prayed and asked God for His will in our family.  We sought medical advice from at least a dozen specialists and tried various treatment options. The last appointment with a wonderful Christian doctor was a very discouraging meeting.  He ended with the words, “I just don’t think it’s going to happen, and I don’t want to keep wasting your money.”

While I was grateful to have an honest and Christian doctor, the disappointment was overwhelming. I went back to work and asked my boss if I could go home for the rest of the day. A few months passed, and just after my thirty-fourth birthday, I began to have severe headaches. I remember being at the grocery store and, midway through my list, having vision that was so blurred that I could not continue. I sat on a bench, gripping the cart, while my husband ferried the items on my list back and forth from the aisles to the cart.

Feeling like a broken toy, I went to bed that night with a cold washcloth pressed against my forehead. I woke the next morning and began my usual routine of getting ready for work. I glanced at the bathroom sink, cluttered with various medications and one lonely pregnancy test that remained. At this point, I felt so low that I did not want to see anything that even reminded me of our failed attempts to grow our family. I decided I would take one last test, wait for the single line to appear, and go about the rest of my day.

Just before turning on the shower, I glanced down at the test. Was that…? No! I must still have double vision from the migraine. I ran to the bedroom where my husband was sleeping peacefully for another five minutes. I pounded on his legs and ripped away the blankets. I flipped on the overhead light and shoved the test in the face of my husband.

“What does this say?!?!”

My poor husband will receive a crown in Heaven one day for enduring my shenanigans. I had forgotten that he could see nothing without his glasses. He did not even know what I was showing him or for what reason he received such an abrupt awakening.

“What does this say?!?!” I repeated.

His eyes slowly focused on the object in my hand.

“Are you serious?!” he replied.

“I don’t know?”

I called my doctor and made an appointment. I googled, “How likely is a false positive on a pregnancy test?” Two rounds of bloodwork and three doctor’s appointments later, it was confirmed. I was pregnant.

After all of those years of disappointments, specialists, doctor’s appointments, treatments, and medications, God did what no one else could. He gave me what my heart had desired most.

About two months into my pregnancy, I was at work—a day just like any other—thinking of names for my daughter. (At this point it was not confirmed, but I believed in my heart that my baby was a little girl.) Around mid-morning, I experienced a scare and called my doctor immediately. The nurse with whom I spoke was caring but remained neutral. Although she did not send me to the emergency room immediately, she did schedule an appointment for the following day.

I returned to my desk while holding back the tears. I still needed to answer calls and schedule crews. People were depending on me to do my job, but all I could think of was that I might lose my daughter. Overwhelmed with fear, I placed my hands on my belly and prayed quietly through my tears at my desk.

“God, please don’t take my little girl.”

As clear as day, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper in my heart, “She’s not yours.”

I asked my boss if I could take a short walk outside, and she graciously allowed me to go. As I walked down the sidewalk by the building, I was crying and praying to God. I thought of I Samuel 1:27: For this child I prayed; and the LORD hath given me my petition which I asked of him:

“God, You gave me the child I asked for. If You let me, I will raise her to love You and serve You. I will teach her to do right, and I’ll be an example to her of what a Christian lady ought to be. Lord, we’ve waited so long. Just, please, let me keep her.”

“She’s not yours.”

It echoed in my head repeatedly. I struggled with those words. “She is mine! I wanted her! You gave her to me!”

“She’s not yours.”

I walked back to the office and sat at my desk. Mentally exhausted, I gave up.

“Lord, if You want her…she was Your child before she was mine,” I whispered, and a calming peace came over me. I finally was ready to accept whatever God’s will was for this little daughter of His.

It was on that day, while only a couple of months pregnant, that I dedicated my daughter to the Lord. I realized that God has a purpose for every soul conceived throughout history. Whether that soul lived one hundred years or one hundred minutes, there was a purpose for each one.

Three months later, on February 9, 2016, Gabriella Angeline fulfilled the purpose God had for her. She taught her mother about dedication and surrendering her will to the Lord. Having fulfilled her purpose, this little daughter of God was taken home to be with Him.

As parents, we often find ourselves conflicted with our wills versus God’s will. Consistent discipline is difficult. It is easier just to let things slide; but will that prepare our children to obey the Lord? Providing a strong example of godliness is difficult. It is easier to relax our standards; but will that prepare our children to stand strong for God?

When we as parents dedicate our child to the Lord, whether at church, at home, or at an old, wooden desk at work, we are making a solemn vow to God to choose His will over our wills. I think of Hannah, praying for a child, and then giving him away to be raised by someone else. Hannah understood the importance of her vow, and she knew the true definition of dedication to the Lord.

by Krystal Salm