I Forgive

By Gloria Robinson

My siblings' lives were taken much too soon. I was marred, scared, and left blind, but I forgive. Forgiveness frees us from self, saves us the cost of anger, and relieves us from hatred. Forgiveness is not giving up a right of possession. It is like a medicine that frees the soul. Unforgiveness poisons our lives, steals our joy, and endangers our relationships. Worst of all, it shuts the door to God's grace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781642991635

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I Forgive

Gloria A. Robinson

ISBN 978-1-64299-162-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64299-163-5 (Digital)

Copyright © 2018 by Gloria A. Robinson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Foreword

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once declared, I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.

I was around sixteen years old and had gotten my first job. It was probably the first Christmas that I was able to buy gifts for family with my own money that I, myself, had earned. During that time, Isotoner gloves were at the height of their popularity, and I chose a very nice gift set for my mom. I was so excited and was beside myself anticipating her reaction to her present. I remember as if it were yesterday, though I realize that memories are often embellished. She opened the gift, removed the gloves from the box, laid them on her lap, clasped her hands together, and tears began to trail down her cheeks. This is where my memory fades. I’m not sure if she told me why she was crying or if I came to the realization as she clasped her hands upon the gloves.

Note that I was sixteen years old, already had a keen interest in medicine, and was fairly observant. But it was at that moment that I first noticed my mother’s severely contractured hands. There was no way she’d ever wear an Isotoner. I’m sure I knew that my mom had sustained burns at some point in her life. Obviously, I didn’t know or realize the extent, severity, or circumstances. I did know that her tears were not tears of disappointment, but tears of joy. She was joyous that she had raised a son capable of unconditional love—someone who knew only a loving, caring, and nurturing nurse and mother and not an infirmed victim.

It was not until a few years later that I would learn her story; but I know why she waited to tell us. She wanted to make sure that we grew up learning to love people for who they are rather than based on what happened to them. She wanted us to judge people according to the content of their character rather than the color of their skin and unbiased by what their predecessors may have done. She waited because she knew that hate would be too great a burden to bear.

Leroy F. Robinson, MD

Introduction

Walking along a path is one way of defining life experiences. Between these pages is a journey through the fire. There is suffering and sorrow. But on the other hand, it can be related to the Psalmist’s description of the Good Shepard leading to green pastures and beside still waters. In the darkest valley, there is light. The shadow of death lingers. There are also valleys of blooming and blessings. Courage falters, and skepticism is