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91 pages

English

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In January 1984, I endured a sorrow deeper than my worst nightmares and fears. After experiencing two miscarriages, several surgeries, and an enormous amount of emotional disappointment trying to have children, I saw my newborn son's life slip away from me after only 36 hours on this earth.

As the sorrow and loss began to surround me, I struggled to survive, as any mother would. It didn't matter that I was part of a well-known family and married to an evangelist. It didn't matter that they were known by millions of people across America and the world. The grief still cut me like a knife. Despair still haunted my waking and sleeping hours, and I wondered if I could ever know joy again after losing my precious baby.

In that desperate time, I turned to God. Although pain and sorrow can invade anyone's life in any area of life, I believe God is quick to bring comfort and healing to those who call out to Him.

Sujets

Religion

Christianisme

Santé et bien-être

Santé mentale & traumatisme

Christian Living

Bereavement

Philosophie et théologie

Grief

Death

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Publié par	eBookIt.com
Date de parution	12 décembre 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780999052419
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Original Copyright ©1990 By Lindsay Roberts
Published in eBook format by Oral Roberts Evangelistic Association P.O. Box 2187 Tulsa, OK 74102 USA
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-0-9990524-1-9

Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER ONE: Just a Typical Lebanese-Danish Girl
CHAPTER TWO: The Day Oral Roberts Called To Pray
CHAPTER THREE: “You Are My Biggest Giant”
CHAPTER FOUR: So This Is Richard’s Bride?
CHAPTER FIVE: The Road to a Healing Ministry
CHAPTER SIX: Speaking to the Mountain
CHAPTER SEVEN: “He’ll Put Him Out at Home”
CHAPTER EIGHT: 36 Hours with an Angel
CHAPTER NINE: Did God Fall Off the Throne?
CHAPTER TEN: Carried Through Grief By Grace
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Showdown
CHAPTER TWELVE: He’s The God of a Second Chance
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: He’ll Give You a Party!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Night “The Cartoon Man” Came To My Door
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: God “Loads the Bases”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Get Bitter or Better
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE ABUNDANT LIFE PRAYER GROUP

INTRODUCTION
In January of 1984, I endured a sorrow deeper than my worst nightmares and fears. I saw my newborn son’s life slip away from me after only 36 hours on this earth.
As the sorrow and loss began to surround me, I struggled to survive like any mother would. It didn’t matter that I was part of a well-known family and married to an evangelist. It didn’t matter that they were know by millions of people across America.
The grief still cut me life a knife. Despair still haunted my waking and sleeping hours, and I wondered if I could ever know joy again after losing my precious baby.
In that desperate time, I turned to God. Although pain and sorrow can invade anyone’s life, I believe God is quick to bring comfort and healing to those who call out to Him.
I’ve written this book for you, to help you in your own private sorrows, and to help you reach out to others with the gentle, understanding love of God. A friend once said, “Pain is pain, no matter what kind it is. It hurts to get hurt. No matter how the hurt comes, it all feels the same.”
I pray to God that you never have to face what I have experienced in my life. But I do sincerely want you to discover the wonderful strength that only comes from Jesus Christ, the strength that brought me through my valley and into the sunlight of His joy again!
Lindsay Roberts

CHAPTER ONE: Just a Typical Lebanese-Danish Girl
I grew up in the culture of a Middle Eastern family, so my experiences are quite different from the typical American family. My family was Lebanese and my mother is Danish, and both of them loved God. The Lord was a vital part of our family. I remember how my mother always talked about Jesus like He was her best Friend. He was her total Source in good times and bad.
My father was a member of the Syrian Orthodox Church, and my mother belonged to a Methodist church. I followed the middle ground and was baptized in both!
It seems like I’ve always been “turned on” to God. We went to church every Sunday, so I knew a lot about God. Nearly everything we did was centered around Him. Everywhere we went and everything we did had to have God’s approval.
I didn’t understand most of the ritual and tradition in the Syrian Orthodox services. I only remember a lot of chanting and reading, and incense being shaken in front of the congregation. I was so young that I didn’t understand the meaning behind the rituals.
Most of the time I went to the Methodist church with my mother where the leadership was very concerned about attendance and membership. Although they believed in a salvation experience, I don’t remember a lot of salvation calls. In fact, I don’t remember my pastor ever giving an altar call, but he occasionally invited people to preach who did. That’s how I met Jesus.
When I was about seven years old, an evangelist – praise God for the evangelists – came through our city and stopped at our church. He brought along a puppet show. I gave my heart to Jesus Christ as a result of the little puppet ministry.
I remember my salvation experience. I don’t remember the evangelist’s name or even the puppet show, but I remember the experience. That was the day I said, “This Jesus is for me.”
That was the day I realized this wasn’t just for my parents of for my family – it was a personal experience for me, and it changed my life. Somehow, I knew I would never go away from God. My great Heavenly Father-daughter relationship began that day.
Our church was against “speaking in tongues,” and anyone who spoke in tongues just didn’t seem to fit in. I wouldn’t say they were really unwelcome, but people did not make them feel at home. Tongue-talkers weren’t kicked out, they were just more or less allowed to leave.
Most of the people in the church felt no one should associate with “Pentecostals,” and the church made this very clear. I don’t especially blame them; they misunderstood the supernatural gifts, just like many people do today. I’m thankful that many mainline denominations are now moving in the gifts of the Spirit, praying in tongues, and praying for the sick. Since my great-grandfather was Spirit-filled, I was familiar with the charismatic experience; and in spite of the warnings at our Methodist church, I “came under the influence.” However, I really didn’t understand the value of speaking in tongues until I came to Oral Roberts University to study law.
I have to say that Oral Roberts’ preaching and teaching really helped turn me on to God, because Oral always talked about God being good. He showed me a God who loved me, cared for me, and wanted me to be blessed in every area of my life.
It Wasn’t Easy Being a Spare Tire
I am the second of three children. For many years, I felt like the odd one of the lot. My brother was okay because he was a boy. My sister was okay because she was first-born. But where did that leave me, a middle child? I felt like a spare — not worth much, but there just in case!
Back when I was a child in the Lebanese culture, “women were meant to produce boys — sons — as an inheritance to carry on the family name and continue in the family business.”
Today in this country, some may hope for this, but it isn’t mandatory. Women today aren’t told to marry doctors and lawyers; they are doctors and lawyers. Well, I grew up in a different atmosphere. No matter how hard it was to swallow, I knew I wasn’t an heir apparent.
Lebanese people prefer to stay within the Lebanese bloodline. Well, my mother is Danish; that was the first strike against her. Then, when her first-born was a girl, Stephanie Ann, the pressure was instantly placed on her to have another child – and this time, to “get it right!”
My mother told me years later (when I was pregnant) how hard it was for her to live under that pressure. She said one of the first comments she heard after giving birth to a healthy baby in a difficult labor and delivery was, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” The comment came from my father’s side of the family because the baby wasn’t a boy.
My father never brought up the subject of male versus female to Mom, and he never played favorites or preferred his son over his daughters. Nonetheless, Mom knew family pressures were on his mind.
When Mom became pregnant again, another one of my dad’s relatives came to her and said, “We’re expecting you to do your job this time and produce a boy.” Well, by this time, my calm, quiet, and charming mother had swallowed her pride long enough and proceeded to give her a biology lesson on who determines the sex of the child (the man) – and not to bring it up again! Needless to say, when I was born, there wasn’t much “singing in the camp!”
I was a healthy little girl, and my parents were thrilled that I was healthy. My mom had a very difficult pregnancy with me and didn’t gain much more than my birth weight throughout the term. When it was all over, the doctors suggested in the best interest of her health that she shouldn’t get pregnant again.
But my mom was determined to please and be “accepted.” She got pregnant, and finally — after three days of life-threatening labor—my brother, Harry II, was born. Obviously, she had gotten it right this time.
Exactly What God Wanted Us To Be
Early in my childhood, I secretly felt like a spare tire, but I really had the best of all worlds. My older sister plowed all the new ground at school, making friends and the like. And my brother, who was always big and tall, protected me.
We were always close, all three of us, but my brother was my best friend. We did many things together and our family enjoyed a close-knit, loving relationship.
We were blessed with a father and mother who truly loved us equally without preference or partiality. Mom saw each of us as God’s special gift, and she treated us all like “favorites.” Because of her constant love and reassurance, each of us grew up with a strong sense of security. We knew that even if we weren’t born perfectly according to some man’s expectations and guidelines, we were perfect to her; and we were exactly what God wanted us to be.
Mom drilled it home to us over and over that God never makes mistakes. She taught us that God knew just what He needed us to be when He made us; therefore, Mom said we had no right to criticize the way God created us.
For example, I’m 5’2-1/2” tall and I always wanted to be taller; my sister, who is tall, always wanted to be shorter. However, we weren’t allowed to complain.
If we started to say something like “I hate my hair,” or “I hate being a girl,” my mom would always put a stop to it and said, “God made you just like He wanted you to be, so stop knocking God’s creation. He knew exactly how to make you.”
Mother helped me know and care about God’s opinio