Sacrifice of praise
Dr. Roberto Miranda
SUMMARY: Frank Foglio's daughter was severely injured in a car accident and placed in a mental institution, where her condition deteriorated over seven years. Frank's faith in God weakened as he felt anger towards God. However, after being prompted by God to praise him, Frank softened and eventually thanked God for his daughter's situation. When he visited her again, his daughter recognized him and was in her right mind. She was eventually released from the institution and returned home. Frank learned that God wants us to praise him despite difficult circumstances.
At the beginning of his book, Praise Works, Merlin Carothers tells this fascinating story: Frank Foglio, author of Hey, God! And international director of Full Gospel Business Men, he told me one of the most interesting cases of freedom through praise that I have ever heard.
Frank's daughter was injured in a car accident. His skull was severely damaged, and although many thousands of prayers were raised for his restoration, his condition was gradually deteriorating. Eventually, she had to be placed in the "hopeless" custody of an institution for the mentally ill. It was the very end of the process.
Ward patients were so detached from reality that their relatives rarely came to visit them. One patient had been tied up for twelve years because of his violence. Another sat passively, looking nowhere, his empty eyes reflecting a brain in which there was nothing. There were others who remained rigid in their beds, without sight or movement. Vegetables. Frank's daughter had ripped his straitjacket to pieces and tried to hang herself with a sheet from his bed.
Seven years had passed since the accident, and the utter hopelessness of the situation began to take its toll on this authentic Italian. Frank's faith in God began to weaken. On a truly difficult trip to the institution, Frank argued with God. How can you be a God of love? I would not allow such a thing to happen to my daughter if I had the power to prevent it. You could heal her. But you do not want. Don't you love people even like me? No, you must not love ”.
Frank felt his anger at God grow. "Praise me," a Voice told him. "Why?" Frank replied. "Praise me because your daughter is where she is." Never! ”He spat. I would rather die than do it ”. God had no right to ask him to praise him when he did not want to fulfill his task of showing his love for people.
Frank remembered hearing a tape about giving thanks for everything. He had been deeply moved by the message, but at the time he was in no mood to put it into practice. "Thank me that your daughter is exactly where she is," the Voice said again. God, I can't praise You even if I try. And I'm not going to try, because I don't think I can. "
As Frank continued on his way to the mental asylum, the Holy Spirit worked in his heart, and he felt his attitude begin to soften. "Well, God, I'd praise You if I could," he said, "but I just can't. After a while he confessed: "I would praise you, but you have to help me."
Upon arriving at the institution, Frank had to fulfill the necessary requirements to obtain permission to enter the more restricted part of one of the buildings. It always took him a long time to get into the room where his daughter was. Sometimes she marveled that he kept coming to see her. His daughter didn't recognize him. He couldn't distinguish it from a stone on the ground.
Finally, Frank reached the last waiting room, which separated him from the cell. A steel door had yet to be opened. As he stood in front of her, Frank Foglio once again heard the calm and firm voice of God: "Thank me that your daughter is exactly where she is."
Disobedience, unwillingness, hardness of heart had melted away. The stony heart of anger and bitterness had somehow been replaced by a heart of flesh. Frank, throat tight with emotion, murmured his surrender: “Okay, God. I appreciate that my daughter is where she is. I recognize that you love her more than I do.
At that moment, a vaguely familiar voice called out, "I want to see my dad, I want to see my dad!" the attendant opened the door and Frank ran to his daughter's room. In her right mind, she opened her arms and hugged her father. Nurses, assistants and guardians came together to cry for joy.
Frank has told me: “Tell everyone that our daughter is now home with us. That we know that God always wants us to praise him, despite the appearances that things present.
Frank's daughter was injured in a car accident. His skull was severely damaged, and although many thousands of prayers were raised for his restoration, his condition was gradually deteriorating. Eventually, she had to be placed in the "hopeless" custody of an institution for the mentally ill. It was the very end of the process.
Ward patients were so detached from reality that their relatives rarely came to visit them. One patient had been tied up for twelve years because of his violence. Another sat passively, looking nowhere, his empty eyes reflecting a brain in which there was nothing. There were others who remained rigid in their beds, without sight or movement. Vegetables. Frank's daughter had ripped his straitjacket to pieces and tried to hang herself with a sheet from his bed.
Seven years had passed since the accident, and the utter hopelessness of the situation began to take its toll on this authentic Italian. Frank's faith in God began to weaken. On a truly difficult trip to the institution, Frank argued with God. How can you be a God of love? I would not allow such a thing to happen to my daughter if I had the power to prevent it. You could heal her. But you do not want. Don't you love people even like me? No, you must not love ”.
Frank felt his anger at God grow. "Praise me," a Voice told him. "Why?" Frank replied. "Praise me because your daughter is where she is." Never! ”He spat. I would rather die than do it ”. God had no right to ask him to praise him when he did not want to fulfill his task of showing his love for people.
Frank remembered hearing a tape about giving thanks for everything. He had been deeply moved by the message, but at the time he was in no mood to put it into practice. "Thank me that your daughter is exactly where she is," the Voice said again. God, I can't praise You even if I try. And I'm not going to try, because I don't think I can. "
As Frank continued on his way to the mental asylum, the Holy Spirit worked in his heart, and he felt his attitude begin to soften. "Well, God, I'd praise You if I could," he said, "but I just can't. After a while he confessed: "I would praise you, but you have to help me."
Upon arriving at the institution, Frank had to fulfill the necessary requirements to obtain permission to enter the more restricted part of one of the buildings. It always took him a long time to get into the room where his daughter was. Sometimes she marveled that he kept coming to see her. His daughter didn't recognize him. He couldn't distinguish it from a stone on the ground.
Finally, Frank reached the last waiting room, which separated him from the cell. A steel door had yet to be opened. As he stood in front of her, Frank Foglio once again heard the calm and firm voice of God: "Thank me that your daughter is exactly where she is."
Disobedience, unwillingness, hardness of heart had melted away. The stony heart of anger and bitterness had somehow been replaced by a heart of flesh. Frank, throat tight with emotion, murmured his surrender: “Okay, God. I appreciate that my daughter is where she is. I recognize that you love her more than I do.
At that moment, a vaguely familiar voice called out, "I want to see my dad, I want to see my dad!" the attendant opened the door and Frank ran to his daughter's room. In her right mind, she opened her arms and hugged her father. Nurses, assistants and guardians came together to cry for joy.
Frank has told me: “Tell everyone that our daughter is now home with us. That we know that God always wants us to praise him, despite the appearances that things present.
