Last updated on July 2, 2022
“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 that 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 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)
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|Family trip to Nevada
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