It is, we think, in part due to some stresses in her life. There may also be physical illness. Childhood abdominal migraines. This is a real possibility as migraines are an inherently genetic neurological disease. One that I suffer from to this day as did both my parents before me. Her Dad also suffers from migraines, mostly as a child. The component of anxiety has become more real now. She fears the mornings now because she might be sick. She does not want to appear to be ill to her friends, she definitely hates being sick on the bus and trying to make everything seem fine.
Her many absences make her feel conspicuous, and now avoiding explanations seems to loom heavy on the horizons of her days.
I wish peace for her.
I try to reassure her. Remind her that she is loved, that we are doing everything we possibly
can to get to the bottom of this, covering all our bases. Investigating every angle.
I tell her the things that people have told me: Breathe deeply, in and out, count to four on inhalation and count four upon exhaling, don't fight your feelings, don't judge them...Tell yourself this is just my body doing it's thing and it will pass, it will be O.K. Put your music on at night and listen to the rhythms of quietude.
I lay beside her at bedtime, gently rub her back, whisper soft words - soothing, calming, crooning words.
Love breaks my heart.
What can I do?, only be here for her, this child of mine.
I am glad that this is my full-time job: that I do not have to send her off to a babysitter or daycare pre and post school hours. Yes, I can be here, to shield and assist her, so that she does not have the extra stress of feeling abandoned in the middle of all this fear.
We murmur prayers for mercy and for strength for another day. We do not know what tomorrow may hold, but we know Who holds tomorrow and we learn every day in so many different ways, in so many different circumstances that He who holds tomorrow also holds us in the palms of His hands.
It is not easy, always, to cling to our belief. We say, again and again, "Lord, I believe, help my unbelief." And we have seen so many answers to prayers. Some are flagrant in your face answers, some are shocking and do not seem to be answers at all (these often turn out to be surprisingly amazing in retrospect), some are gentle, but firm noes, and in those "no" times we get to choose. Will we fling a fit, stomp and scream? Or will we lean hard into Him and know with all our hearts that this side of eternity the Incomprehensible One cannot be figured out till we see Him face to face. Then, there is the wait, and this is a tough, and often tortuous answer. Especially for me. In the wait, I fling myself into His throne room and cry out for grace to help in time of need. I get impatient, so impatient and oh ya, sometimes I throw a fit.
For now this child of God, brings her children to that throne room. So very different these two, with yawning needs...Only God can put the pieces of the puzzle of their lives together, only He bridge the chasm of their needs and mine.
So....
I will wait.
Lord, I believe.
Help.
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