“When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer.” `Psalm 94:19 NLT.
Nearly 13 years ago, I experienced the scare of a lifetime.
I received a phone call from my ex husband stating things no mother would want to hear. He informed me that our daughter had just had a seizure and he was heading to the emergency room. It was early in the morning and he was heading to his mom’s house to drop our two daughters off for her to babysit. They were staying with him for summer break, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but this phone call was.
During their car ride her older sister noticed that she was shaking and wouldn’t stop. My eldest daughter yelled to her dad that her sister was shaking, her eyes were rolled up in the back of her head, and she was spitting. The oldest was so scared that she was crying out to her dad for help. He immediately pulled the car over, called 9-1-1, and then called me.
Just like my oldest daughter, I was so scared that I was crying.
Without hesitation, my husband ordered me a flight out of town and I arrived a few hours later. Their grandfather picked me up from the airport and created small talk to kill the time for the drive from the airport to the hospital. All I remember, of that drive, was praying a hedge of protection over her life.
I had heard about grand mal seizures, what they look like, but I had never experienced them face to face. This was the first seizure she had experienced, or so we thought.
From as little as three years old, our second born would “space-out” and we would snap our fingers while asking her to pay attention. Her “space out” episodes looked like she was staring off into space. It looked as though she was looking right through us when we would be talking to her. The doctor informed us that it was a bit more serious then that. Those were the precursors called absence or petit mal seizures.
Fear likes to reside in the unknown.
When the doctor asked for a recap of the event, she didn’t remember anything that happened to her. We stood there, dumbfounded, as he used big words to explain what could be going on. He was going to run a lot of tests to rule things out and let us know. Fever wasn’t the cause. There was no germ or illness she was carrying that would cause it. The only explanation he could give was puberty.
Most girls get moody, lazy, cry, have headaches, or cramping before starting for the very first time. Not ours. The doctor said that there are both girls and boys that can have seizures when their hormones are changing. He reassured us that this would probably stop once her hormones were well adjusted. Medication was the temporary solution they recommended.
Information was received but wisdom was not yet clear.
All I could do was pray. I cried a lot too because I just didn’t understand. Fear felt like my best friend at the time. God and I had many discussions. Well, they were more like me yelling and Him shaking His head in disbelief waiting for me to stop so He could get a word in. I blamed Him and demanded that He fix her.
My heart ached for my baby. Over the next year, she experienced many more grand mal seizures right in front of us. My husband and I were so scared for her. We had heard so many horror stories about what could happen. There was no way of really knowing how they were affecting her. What we did know was how the medication was affecting her.
She had monthly appointments with a Neurologist, CT Scan, MRIs, EEGs, and blood work on a regular basis. We brought our concerns to the doctor about her memory loss and decrease in academic ability. The doctor said, “would you rather have a daughter without seizures but excellent in school or a daughter with seizures and poor school performance?” Why were those our only two options.
Fervent prayer, in frustration, was not helping.
All I heard in church and ladies Bible studies was to keep praying. She wasn’t changing except that her seizures finally stopped with a high dose of medication, twice a day. She was failing all of her classes because she couldn’t keep up due to memory issues. Kids began to bully her in school, making fun of her lack of ability to understand what was being taught. Nothing made sense to her, not even social cues and effective communication.
In middle school, she was bullied so strongly that she began to have severe behaviors. A doctor diagnosed her with ADHD, ODD, and Cyclothymic Disorder. Labels, labels, and more labels…which did not sit well with my spirit. The Holy Spirit was stirring in me an unsettled feeling with how she was being treated.
I did not like what the medication was doing to her and how it was changing her mentally and emotionally. As of today, none of my children have been prayed for nearly as much as my second daughter.
Build up faith and fear flees.
Through my talks with God, He told me to stop speaking to the problem about the problem and start speaking about the solution to the problem. In other words, stop talking to God about how big the problem is and start speaking to the problem about how big God is!
My prayers changed. I began declaring and thanking God for her healing in mind, soul, and body. When she was 13 years old, the doctor took her off of the seizure medication but put her on others because of her behaviors. At the age of 16, without us knowing, she took herself off of the other medication. All of it. Off of the anti-depressant medication. No more anti-anxiety medication.
The medication was making her behave as though she was being sedated without having a personality. She saw that and believed it was taking away from who she was. Not liking that feeling, she chose to stop the medication. Her “old self” came back.
What doctors say is not always in line with what the Bible says.
Our second daughter was doing so well and was seizure free. She was making friends again and enjoying school. Shortly after graduation the seizures came back. As an adult she made her own decision to speak with a neurologist and restart seizure medication. Anxiety and depression returned and she struggles with communication in relationships. I believe they are a direct reflection of the spiritual atmosphere she lives in, not our home.
We continue to pray for her mental and physical health, but believe what is going on with her is not the battle we used to believe it to be but a spiritual battle. One she is not equipped, yet, to fight against. There are decisions she has made in her life that have opened the door to demonic spirits that are attacking her.
I believe she will be delivered from the battle and thank God, in advance, for those who are able to get through to her and help her gain the freedom.
Although I haven’t been scared for her, in a long time, I still pray. My prayers have been different, ever since I allowed faith to dictate them and not fear.
Fear is the liar, faith is the truth.