My phone is buzzing and I see it is school. Again.
I receive the call and hear the school secretary saying that my 8t h grade daughter is in the office crying.
Today began with so much hope. She studied hard for this final test. She recited the presidents to me in order from start to finish. The stress of trying so hard to remember locked her brain down and now she’s weeping.
Through hiccups she says, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mama. Why do I do this?” She is asking, “Why me?”“Why does MY body take everything so hard that it cries out?” “Why can’t I be normal?”
My body gears up to protect my vulnerable cub. I try to take a breath. I ask her what she needs. Simple answer? Out. She wants out.
Me too, baby girl, me too.
The past nine years of tears, fear, timed tests and failure are about to change for my girl. She has cried out and we have heard.
We have been listening for a long time, but we also bought the party line, “If she endures through these seasons, then someday it will all be worth it.”
What I have learned through Dan Allender, Chip Dodd and other teachers is that it may not be worth it.
What we call endurance may be trauma that stays with her for years.
My daughter’s sensory system was calibrated at a fever pitch from her first breath. The test today felt like trauma to her body. And, who is to say that her tiny body didn’t receive the generations of trauma that preceded her life?
I believe it did.
I hate the fallenness of this world. I despise that my pain and the pain of generations before me has translated into a sensory disorder.
She is fearfully and wonderfully made, and I cannot for the life of me make her be able to “test better” or not melt down when the sensory input of life feels like an slow electrocution. We need Jesus so fully this day. I need him to bridge every gap that DNA and a fallen world has left in my child’s body and soul.
My hopes for her are too numerous to write. Today though, I hope she knows that this test is not a reflection on who she is or her intelligence. I hope she learns that her parents are listening, fighting, and praying for her. I hope she can bless her body that cries often. I hope that healing comes in great measure. I hope that she doesn’t kill her hope and comes to believe that normal isn’t that great after all.
Because “great” doesn’t begin to describe my deep girl who drips discernment like the spillway of a dam. Her qualities could fill a river with goodness and I for one, hope normal is never her name.
Shandee is a wife to an amazing former banker, the mother of three teenagers, and kicks James Dobson’s butt when it comes to the sex talk. She loves to lay in the Oklahoma sun, bake cookies, and lean into the more of Jesus.
I will not begin to think I know your daughters full story but oh I love your beautiful heart of tenderness and sensitivity to her wiring. I bet she is highly discerning and beautifully sensitive. I loved sitting with her and your story. If you haven’t already, do check out http://www.hsperson.com and the work of Dr. Elaine Aron. I am a Highly Sensitive Person myself as are my two daughters, sister, mother, nephew, and brother. It’s in the bloodlines. We are uniquely and beautifully sensitive. Shalom.
Thank you for the website referral and for hearing my Mother’s heart for my girl. She’s amazing. I couldn’t love her more.
Yes! I was going to mention HSP to you. I am slowly learning it as a gift instead of viewing it through the lenses of ‘what is wrong with me’. Once you start reading, it will all make sense. It is a beautiful and hard gift for God’s Kingdom! Carol Brown has two awesome books as well. Hoping it is the missing puzzle that will bring life to all of your family:) blessings!
Shandee, I love that you are listening. And I love that you are a woman of strength and love. I trust you will encourage and find out all the ways needed to help your daughter’s trauma with school stress and in other arenas. Do you realize what a gift you are to your family to love and not shame your daughter? I bless your feistiness and thank you for this article. It has rippled deep within me today as a grandmother.
My capacity to really hear my children has increased by leaps and bounds as I have sought healing. I do recognize that I am passing on that healing and it’s incomplete. I want more!
Simply stunning. Oh, how you love!
Thank you so much for sharing the gift of your story and your profound love for your daughter. To see her and love her just as she is, is the greatest gift. “Because “great” doesn’t begin to describe my deep girl who drips discernment like the spillway of a dam. Her qualities could fill a river with goodness and I for one, hope normal is never her name.”
The way you see and call out her beauty is stunning!
Awww, thanks! I’m blushing right now.
To see your heart displayed is delightful. As are you. I couldn’t be more gleeful to be your friend. I’m cheering and clapping.
I know you are. I receive your love so easily. Thanks for parenting with me. It makes the journey a lot more fun.
Your writing and your heart for your girl wrecked me in the most beautiful and needed way. I am so glad that you have ‘heard’ her cries and that you have responded even though I know it has come at a cost to do so. What a gift to have your love poured out on her sensitive soul. Your voice is needed in this world, thank you for sharing it so generously.
Thank you for responding with such raw honesty and emotion. It has come at a cost to hear her cries. Thank you for hearing that and my heart to continue to fight for her.
Shandee – Yes. I agree with what the other women have shared. Your tenacity, tenderness and fight for your daughter is beautiful. I hear the deep grief of your mother’s heart so vividly as you speak to the cost to her and yet your hope and vision for her life moved me to tears. Jesus, may it be…
“Today though, I hope she knows that this test is not a reflection on who she is or her intelligence. I hope she learns that her parents are listening, fighting, and praying for her. I hope she can bless her body that cries often. I hope that healing comes in great measure. I hope that she doesn’t kill her hope and comes to believe that normal isn’t that great after all.”
Hi. I parent Kiddos wired like this. My heart resonates with your words. Bravo for noticing your daughter and honoring her.