A MOTHER'S DAY STORY: Devotional by Lorilyn Roberts

A Mother’s Day Story

“Ms. Roberts,” I believe your new daughter is blind in her left eye.”

“What?” I exclaimed. We had just arrived from Nepal less than twenty-fours earlier. Now I was being told my three-year-old daughter was half-blind. How could this be? 

Jetlagged and sleep-deprived, I struggled to understand. Experiencing for the first time the blessedness of motherhood had turned into a nightmare. This just couldn’t be true.

The doctor tried unsuccessfully a few more times to get a pupil response to his penlight. I studied my daughter who had grown tired of being examined and lashed out at the doctor.

A few months after arriving in America

“I can give you a referral to an ophthalmologist for further evaluation,” she suggested, “although I don’t know how long that will take.”

“Yes, let’s do it,” I said.

The doctor left the room to set up a referral, and I struggled to remain calm, once again crying out to God for yet another miracle. “Please don’t let my daughter be blind,” I prayed.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed any difficulty in her seeing. Could what the physician said be true? My thoughts raced ahead to how her life would be with a sight impairment—playing sports, driving, reading, and general safety. I didn’t want to think about how she would be compromised.

The physician returned a few minutes later and handed me an appointment slip. “I was able to get you an appointment in just a couple of hours with an eye specialist who works specifically with children.”

I thanked her profusely—the wait and worry would be short—and we left to go eat at a Wendy’s restaurant outside the medical complex.

After getting hamburgers and fries, we sat by a window overlooking a busy highway. Manisha played more with the free toy than eating, and I sipped on the coke filled with anxiety. As I watched cars zoom down the road, my sudden claim to motherhood hit me like dynamite. 

Insecurity crept into my thoughts. Was I prepared emotionally to raise my daughter without a husband? I had imagined life would be easy once we arrived home. All I wanted was normalcy when we were in Nepal, but now, I worried. Had I made a terrible mistake?

I poured my heart out to God, and soon peace filled my anxious thoughts. God was my husband. Whatever happened, He would never leave me.

I cast my worries about Manisha onto my heavenly father and husband, as best I could, and praised God that here in America if she was half-blind, she would have access to the best medical care she would need to live the life God had given to her.

A few hours later, we arrived for her eye specialist appointment, and the medical tech dilated Manisha’s eyes for a more extensive examination. My new daughter cried out in fear. Why hadn’t I waited a few days to allow her to acclimate to America before forcing her to endure so much trauma? Motherly guilt crept in, and once again, I doubted my ability to be a good mother.

Soon the ophthalmologist finished his examination and his words soothed my aching heart. “Her eyesight seems to be fine out of that eye. I think the reason her doctor couldn’t see the reflex is because her eyes are so dark, but her eyesight, as much as I can tell, is normal.”

Manisha was so uncooperative, I was amazed he could tell anything, but all that mattered to me was she could see out of that eye. I breathed a sigh of relief and praised God that her eyesight was normal.

I’ll always wonder if Manisha had a miraculous healing that day, but I went home no longer doubting that I could be a good mother—God would be there for me through every trial and tribulation.

Twenty-four years later, Manisha has the best eyesight of anyone in the family. She is the only one who doesn’t wear glasses.

May 8 is the day we arrived home from Nepal—May 8, 1994, which was Mother's Day. Manisha Hope has grown into a beautiful young woman and is on her own now.

I thank God for both my daughters, Hope and Joy. I have been blessed beyond measure by God’s tender mercies. I wouldn’t have either of my daughters if God had not done the impossible.

Joy getting her driver's license

Isn’t that the kind of God we have, though, a God who is in the business of doing the impossible? As Psalm 113:9 states, “He puts a sterile woman in a household, and she is a cheerful mother of children (Aramaic Bible in plain English).

If you haven’t read my memoir, Children of Dreams, it is FREE through the weekend on Amazon Kindle. If you have not subscribed to my email list, sign up today at LorilynRoberts.com, where you can also receive Children of Dreams for free as an eBook in multiple formats. 

Family trip to Nevada

Children of Dreams is also now available as an audiobook on iTunes and Audible for those who like audiobooks.

I have recently re-edited Children of Dreams, and if you already have the original version on Kindle, you can download the newest version from Amazon. Just go to your Kindle downloads and re-download.

In addition, please consider leaving a review. Because Amazon has removed so many of my reviews (for no apparent reason), I’m now asking people to consider leaving a review on Goodreads instead of Amazon. Click here for the link.

EVEN IN DARK MOMENTS - BE THANKFUL: Devotional by Lorilyn Roberts

Below is a classic hymn from a nineteenth-century pastor in England, "Come, Ye Thankful People, Come." I have read and experienced many depressing things lately, and yet, God has impressed upon me, be thankful anyway. 

Our momentary afflictions will soon pass and God will bring us into His presence. What greater thought could there ever be than that this side of paradise? So let's rejoice this Thanksgiving that Jesus is the Lord of the Harvest and soon He will return.

All the world is God's own field,

Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown

Unto joy or sorrows grown.

First the blade, and then the ear,

Then the full corn shall appear;

Lord of harvest, grant that we

Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come

And shall take His harvest home;

From His field shall in that day

All offenses purge away,

Give His angels charge at last

In the fire the tares to cast,

But the fruitful ears to store

In His garner evermore.

Have a Blessed Thanksgiving!

BOOK EXCERPT: SEVENTH DIMENSION - THE CASTLE: A Young Adult Fantasy: “First Fruits - The Passion of ‘Seventh Dimension – The Castle:’” Devotional by Lorilyn Roberts

I have to confess, I have a hard time now referring to Easter as the day Jesus Christ was resurrected. I prefer to refer to this Sunday as The Feast of First Fruits. The name “Easter” has pagan origins and has nothing to do with the death and resurrection of Yeshua, the Messiah (Jesus, the Christ). 

While writing my third book in the Seventh Dimension Series, The Castle, I did a lot of research that has impacted my understanding of the Passion of Christ. To be completely transparent, I have always tended to skip over that part of the four Gospels. 

What happened to Yeshua is so disturbing, it’s not something I want to think about. I know He suffered and died for me because of my rebellion and sin. I deserve the death He bore for me on the cross. 

Thinking about the cross is uncomfortable. I’ve read those passages many times in my almost fifty years of being a Christian. Yeshua led a perfect life. What He endured was horrible. It’s difficult to read. It’s disturbing. 

The cross is what sets apart the believers from the non-believers. It’s heavy. It forces you to confront your own wicked heart. Once you have accepted Yeshua as your personal Savior, it’s difficult to read those passages because you know the suffering He endured He chose willingly. To put it personally, He did it for you and for me. 

I spent close to two months reading several books and scouring the web to understand as much as I could about the Passion of Christ. To write about something like this, you need to know it well. And I wanted everything I wrote to be historically accurate. 

The Passion of Christ in The Castle has been the hardest material I have ever written. I suffered immensely. Much of it, I believe, was due to spiritual warfare. One morning I woke up from a disturbing night’s sleep, and before I could pray, God spoke to me. He said three words: “Finish the book.” So that's what I did. The first draft is finished and I am working on my own edits before submitting it to beta readers and professional editors.

I remember many years ago when I went through a painful divorce, someone said to me, “I wouldn’t want to go through what you've been through, but I envy what God has taught you.”

When we suffer, when we dig deep, when we read, when we pray, the amount that we invest in that process God honors abundantly. He comes alongside us and gives us Himself. He pours His Spirit into our souls. He opens our eyes. He talks to our hearts in a spiritual language that is far deeper than our human understanding of Scripture

Yeshua underwent six grueling appearances before the political and religious leaders in the twenty-four hours before his brutal death. Below is an excerpt from The Castle of one of those appearances.  

I don’t want to tell you to enjoy this excerpt. I do hope it will make you uncomfortable. Mostly, I hope on Sunday, you will set aside some time to truly reflect on what the death and resurrection of Yeshua, the Messiah, means to you. He was the First Fruit, meaning He was the first to be resurrected of the millions who will be resurrected at the last trumpet.

To give you a tiny bit of background, Daniel, Sperling, the protagonist in The Castle, is a witness to the events that took place. At this point in the story, he is twenty years old, Israeli, and does not believe Jesus is the Messiah. He is from our time and was transported back to the first century—to what I call a spiritual reality, the Seventh Dimension. The excerpt concerns Yeshua’s appearance before Herod Antipas, the fifth appearance in His six-part trial before being executed by crucifixion.

Chapter 23, Clowns and Circus

We entered the Hasmonean Palace where Herod Antipas stayed on his infrequent visits to Jerusalem. The attendants greeted us with guarded cordiality, but their uncomfortable glances at Yeshua spoke of silent apprehension. I doubted many prisoners appeared before Herod Antipas—especially ones sent from Pontius Pilate.

A runner must have warned Herod Antipas of our impending arrival. We seemed to be expected. Once the porter closed the door, the soldiers shoved Yeshua forward. His chains dragged along the marble floors and the heavy grating echoed off the walls. We crowded around and waited. Hopeful anticipation covered the faces of Caiaphas and Annas. A few minutes later, the Tetrarch made a flamboyant entrance. Exaggerated gesticulations of his hands revealed his extreme delight in meeting Yeshua.

The Tetrarch plopped down in a large chair and his attendants spread out the oversized robe beneath his feet. Once the servants took their positions beside the ruler, Herod turned his full attention to Yeshua. Twirling his hand, the Tetrarch smirked, “So at last we meet.” The Tetrarch rolled his eyes. “And under such extraordinary circumstances.”

Yeshua, bruised and exhausted, said nothing, not even to lift his head.

Herod took a different approach. "Come now, Rabbi, I have heard much about you. In fact, I have wanted to meet you for a long time, but perhaps the reports of your miracles are greatly exaggerated.”

Yeshua still said nothing. His silence put a damper on the Tetrarch’s enthusiasm, but Herod wasn’t so easily deterred. I knew his reputation. He couldn’t let this supposed miracle worker make him look bad.

With an air of flattery, Herod continued. “I’ve heard that you cast out demons.”

Yeshua’s countenance never changed. He stood, blood-shot eyes focused on the floor, arms behind his back, chained and bound between two guards.

When Yeshua remained silent, Herod Antipas filled the awkwardness with rambling blather, boasting about his authority, how much he liked John the Baptist—another of the rabbi’s kind—and how unfortunate it was that he had to behead him.

Yeshua remained silent.

“Oh, let me see, what have I forgotten?” the Tetrarch mused. He flashed his eyes at the ceiling. “Yes, you even raised a man from the dead." An awkward silence followed again when Yeshua refused to answer.

Caiaphas and Annas waited patiently as the Tetrarch rattled on at the rabbi’s expense. The scene reminded me of a trapped, helpless animal taunted by bullies, only later to be slowly tortured. I glanced away, as had a paltry few others—resigned to the inevitable.

After a while, Herod must have realized Yeshua wasn’t going to answer him. The pompous ruler clapped his hands. "I insist you show me a miracle."

Yeshua remained silent.

I remembered being at a circus when I was young. My memory superimposed itself on the room. Another dimension had found its way here. That moment wrapped itself around this one. Time once again became an illusion.

Blue and yellow floodlights tracked through the room. Herod’s servants, dressed as clowns, danced beside him. Caiaphas and Annas were string puppets. Hysterical laughter filled the room. Colorful stripes covered Herod's kingly robe and banners waved from the ceiling. A faint smell of sulfur turned my stomach. I began to heave and wanted to run out of the room.

She was here.

As quickly as the strange vision began, it ended. Yeshua remained quiet, distant, and unfazed.

The Tetrarch demanded once more, “Show me a miracle,” but it was to no avail. Then Herod snapped his finger and ordered that the uncooperative guest be dressed in a royal robe.

An attendant placed an extravagant robe in the bloodied hands of Herod and the soldiers wasted no time wrapping the robe around Yeshua. The soldiers mocked the rabbi, played with him as if he were a toy. I watched from the back, feeling Yeshua’s humiliation, embarrassed by the soldiers’ carnal behavior.

Caiaphas and Annas and many members of the Sanhedrin watched with smug satisfaction. The baseness of their depravity astonished me. The High Priest and his father-in-law seemed like demonic puppets.

After the soldiers had had their fun and Herod had been sufficiently entertained, the Tetrarch ordered Yeshua to be sent back to Pilate, better dressed than when he arrived.

Time was quickly passing and the urgency to accomplish the task wore on the faces of Annas and Caiaphas. Exhausted, I lagged behind as the assembly hurried back to Pontius Pilate at the Antonia Fortress. 

*~*~*~*

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BECOMING: Devotional from "Am I Okay, God?" by Lorilyn Roberts

I gave you milk to drink, not solid food; for you were not yet able to receive it. Indeed, even now you are not able to receive it.

—I Corinthians 3:2

 We are born. We get married. We raise kids. We pay taxes. Then we die.

*~*~*~*~*~*

From Seventh Dimension — The Door, a Young Adult Christian Fantasy quoted from Shakespeare’s play, The Tempest.

All the world’s a stage.

And all the men and women merely players

They have their exits and their entrances

And one man in his time plays many parts

His acts being seven ages.

—Mrs. Wilkes, chapter two

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sounds depressing, doesn’t it? While the above statement is an exaggeration, at times I have felt like life is far too woeful with little reward. But without God, life would be a hundred times worse.

Goodness in the world is an extension of God’s love. Hardship is an extension of his grace. How much darker the world would be without God’s presence. Would we even know the difference between good and evil without the Holy Spirit? I am thankful for absolutes. God does not change, and when I feel threatened, I am comforted by knowing that God holds everything together.

You lose your job, your home, your health—God allows it. An accident lands you in the hospital—God allows it. Sorrow is part of the human condition—all over the world.

Hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, and floods ravage and destroy property. The toll on human life is difficult to comprehend. “Why, God?”

Randomness is universal to us. God causes it to rain on the just and unjust.

I used to think I suffered because I was bad. I thought bad things happened because I deserved it. Some Christians will tell you that if you get a disease, it’s because there is sin in your life or you don’t have enough faith. If you had more faith, you would be healed of your disease.

Or if you suffer economic hardship, you must have done something to cause a reversal in your fortunes—something you did displeased God.

Perhaps, when I was young, this is where I got the idea that I was born under a cloud. You shouldn’t make that correlation because it’s not true.

Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. Why? We live in a fallen, sinful world. Although God is in control, he allows events to happen. While life might seem random to us, it’s not random to God.

Why do bad things happen? I don’t know. I don’t know the mind of God. I have often said, when I get to heaven, I want him to tell me why he allowed this thing to happen or that thing to happen. Then I quickly remind myself, when I see him, it will no longer matter. He will wipe away my tears.

Besides, God already knows the outcome. The process is for our benefit—to reveal what’s in our heart. How much do we really love God? Do we only love him when we receive good things from him and not hard things? How well do we know ourselves?

God cares about the process. If the process of suffering draws us nearer to him, then God can be glorified in our suffering. When I feel that I can’t take “it” anymore, God reminds me that my momentary afflictions will not be remembered in heaven. One of my favorite expressions is, “this, too, shall pass.”

Besides that, where else can we go? If we hit rock bottom, where will we turn? Who holds the answers? Who understands us? If we can glorify God despite hardship and loss and suffering, then we know we love God—not because he gives us good things, but because we know he is with us in the hard things.

Throughout history, Christians have suffered at the hands of others. Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie were taken to a concentration camp during World War II after helping Jews to escape the Holocaust. Betsie died while in the camp.

Foxe’s Book of Martyrs shares the testimonies of Christians who have died for their faith. I tried to read this book with my older daughter when we homeschooled. I couldn’t quit crying.

An average of 159,960 Christians worldwide are martyred for their faith each year (http://christianity.about.com/od/denominations/p/christiantoday.htm).

While you may never suffer persecution, there are other forms of suffering. There’s disease, hunger, disability, hardship, and death. God never promised that Christians wouldn’t suffer. A student is never above his master. Jesus suffered unimaginable pain and separation from God when he died on the cross.  If God wanted to spare the death of his son on the cross, surely he could have avoided the process, but he chose not to.

Jesus asked for the cup to be taken from him, but it didn’t happen. Jesus willingly chose to die. Thousands of angels would have come to his rescue had he asked. He didn’t. Jesus willingly died for you and for me. That was his passion, and God has given you yours.

It’s in the process that we choose how we shall live—what our attitudes will be and what choices we’ll make. Are we willing to sacrifice and toil and labor for the God whom we claim we love, or will we succumb to our sinful nature?  Life is about the process. We’re born and we die, but it’s all the stuff in between about which God cares.

When you enter college, you meet with a guidance counselor who will create a plan for your four-year academic career. For example, if you want to be a doctor, you must take calculus. At the end of the semester, you must take a test to see if you have mastered the subject. You can’t graduate from college if you don’t pass all your tests and complete the requirements laid out for you by the counselor.

If we never faced challenges, we would never be tested. God tested Abraham when he asked Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. God knew what Abraham would choose, but did Abraham himself know? The process of becoming reveals to us who we are in Christ.

In the same way, God has a plan. His plan is to help you become more like Jesus. Our sanctification, the process of becoming, will not be completed here. In Pilgrims Progress, Christian overcame many obstacles along the way, and as the name of the book implies, he progressed in his faith until God called him home. We are becoming Christian.

God gives us times of rest and times of work, times of war and times of peace, times of tearing down and times of building up, but in everything under the sun, we are becoming.

We need Christian leaders, peacemakers, and prayer warriors. These heroes of the faith aren’t born that way—they have become that way. While God gives us gifts to become, it’s up to us to use the talents he gives us. If we misuse our gifts or pride puffs us up, God may take away our gifts and give them to someone else.

In the low points of our life, we feel the depth of God’s love. Oh, the Deep, Deep, Love of Jesus Samuel Trevor Francis wrote in his well-known Christian hymn. Years earlier as a teenager he had contemplated suicide. Perhaps a better question to ask is not why I have suffered so much, but how much more would I have suffered without God’s grace?

Only when we arrive home will we be made perfect in Jesus Christ. Until then, we are becoming—and suffering is part of that process—our passion. 

Dear Jesus, when bad things happen, you are with me. Even if I am fearful, I will trust in you; and if I trust in you, who can separate me from your love?

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