Friends, Rhema goes in today for a 24-hr EEG. We don’t know how we’ll ever get the leads on – it seems nearly impossible, but she really needs this test. Also, this week she will undergo anesthesia so we can get her teeth cleaned. Thank you so much for thinking of/praying for us.
June 3, 2013.
Messages and phone calls from school, “She had a tough morning… began ripping materials and tipping over furniture… she was quite agitated, screaming and ripping her shirt. Instances of SIB to her head, biting on her arm”, “Had to separate her,” “She was crawling around the room and biting staff. When she was upset, I observed her shuddering/twitching – something I had not seen before. The nurse applied ice to her head and arm… after she calmed down she had a nosebleed…”
I say only what I can say, to her teachers again, Thank you and I’m so sorry
SIB. I wish for another life where I’ve never heard that horror abbreviation. Purple bruise on the head, bloody lip, angry bites marks up and down her arms. I choke on the ache, hold back tears, kiss every mark. Baby, please don’t hurt any inch of I love you.
Prayers. Lord, who do I have but you? I bring her. Please calm the raging rivers, speak peace to the storm inside
It’s too late at night for screaming, pounding and tearing. I live it but can’t believe it, the nightmare so real. She’s ripped her clothes, shredded her sheets into tiny pieces all over the floor. More deep, red marks on the mocha arms I’d kissed.
Remember the mourners? The Bible-people sitting in sackcloth and ashes, rending their garments. Why? Why is she in such grief and despair? What? What does she know? What can’t she say?
This is not what I wanted, I cry, for my little girl. I lift my eyes to the hills… to shake my fists.
I see only My Help, My Hope, still hear the song.
Her things and our hearts all torn apart.
But we fall on our knees, we bring her again.