Thursday, March 21, 2013

Fear.

"For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you."                                                                                     -Isaiah 41:13


Last night, about 1:00 am, I woke in a panic. I had had a dream that Ava was in the throws of a massive grand mal seizure, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't find her rescue medication, and I couldn't scream so that anyone would hear me. We were in the middle of a crowded room, and I was sitting on the floor watching her seize, feeling painfully helpless, and I just couldn't get out a scream for help. If dreams are insight into our subconscious, it doesn't take an expert to tell what is weighing on me!

Every since Ava had her tonic-clonic (formerly known as grand mal) seizure last week, I have felt in a constant state of fear and panic. Not immediate, crazy fear and panic. The nagging kind. The kind that keeps you up at night, staring at the monitor to make sure she is still breathing and not convulsing. The kind that creeps into your mind in random moments. The kind that feels like the weight of 1000 boulders. That kind. And honestly, it really sucks!

Now I pray throughout the day. Just in my head. Not big, formal, long prayers. Just short, conversational prayers. Because really, isn't that what prayer is? A conversation with God?! And I rarely say "Amen." Why? Because it feels like I am saying "goodbye" at the end of a phone call, or ending the conversation with the Lord. And I never want to end the conversation with God! But lately I have been saying "Amen" at the end of my prayers for Ava. If my childhood Sunday School memory serves me, "Amen" means "Let it be." And I want, most especially, my prayers for Ava to "be." I pray for her safety. I pray for her little brain, that it won't seize. I pray for the medication to work. I pray for her protection from those evil seizures that have taken far too many Angel children from this world. And I pray for the rest of our family. I pray for restful sleep for Cole and Archer, I pray for the Lord to take these worries from my shoulders, I pray that He helps me leave them at His feet, instead of constantly taking them back upon myself.

Last night, laying there in bed after waking up from that dream, I was trying to catch my breath and realized my throat was dry and sore from doing that "silent screaming" in my sleep. I just started crying, and asked God to just take those worries. And He gave me Isaiah 41:13. "...I will help you."

"I will help you." We are not alone. When your child's life is in danger, either from an immediate threat or a looming, ever present one, what great comfort that is. He will help us.  He will not leave us. He holds our hands. He tells us not to fear.

The key is to have the faith to trust in His word.

Lord, may I have that faith. Amen.

1 comments:

Jessica said...

Tears are streaming down my face as I read this latest entry. I am aching for Ava's safety right along side you. Ever since your post about her bathtime seizure, I haven't been able to let go of that image/scene. And I know all I can do for you at my distance is to pray for you & your whole family. And praise Him for giving you the perfect scripture at the perfect time. And just as He will help you, He will help Ava, Archer & Cole. He knows their names & cares for them even more than you do....if that even seems possible!

You have been on my mind often this week, and I am holding you all up in prayer. I'm so glad that we have come together in this blog world for encouragement & support through our unique challenge of mothering kiddos with special needs. I refer to you as my "blog friend" in conversations, and my entire family has been touched by your story. I pray for peace for you tonight, my friend. Peace that passes understanding. Hugs to you!