Last week, I had a breakthrough that changed my approach to managing my anxiety—especially when it comes to parenting my teens.
“I feel really weird,” Ellie murmured, rolling over in bed.
Knowing that Ellie lives with chronic health conditions and frequently worries about her body, I wasn’t immediately alarmed by this report.
“What does that mean?” I asked, turning her battered desk chair so I could sit down. Navigating Ellie’s room required advanced obstacle course skills. I felt a bit daunted stepping across clothes piles and jumping over a box.
“My heart rate is too high, but my blood pressure is normal,” Ellie said. “I feel exhausted and cold.” She pulled her comforter around her more tightly. “I called my doctor, but she hasn’t called me back. Do you think I should call her again?”
I tried not to inhale too deeply. Since she’d been home from college, Ellie’s room had absorbed the scents of her health struggles. Clothes marked by body odor decorated the floor as Ellie struggled to manage her laundry because of her debilitating fatigue and fainting spells. Bags of vomit sat on her desk, evidence of her inability to keep down food because of a severe GI condition, which would require an upcoming surgery. Bottles of liquid medicine lined the dresser, along with not-quite-washed plastic dispensing cups.
I sighed. I hadn’t quite figured out how to parent my emerging adult daughter in terms of room maintenance. It didn’t seem quite right to clean her room for her, after she’d lived on her own for a year at college and was planning to live in an off-campus house with friends next fall. She needed to learn this type of self-care herself. Yet the combination of her health conditions and her ADHD prevented her from maintaining a healthy space in our home. When I’d offered to help her clean up, she’d insisted she could do it herself.
“I called twice,” Ellie repeated, squinting at her phone. “I wonder why she hasn’t called me back yet.”
“Dr. Ashley is probably busy with other patients, or maybe she is having dinner, Ellie. Just because she’s on call doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a life.” I blinked. Maybe I could help Ellie feel better. Even though I had no official training, I felt like I’d gained an unofficial certification through years of parenting a teen with both mental health and physical health challenges. “Can you tell me more?”
Ellie launched into an analysis of her heart rate, along with reports of increased adrenaline, brutal insomnia, and possible allergic reactions. She frowned at her phone again.
“That sounds hard,” I replied. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly more aware of my incompetence than my ability to help her. But I needed to do something. “Hey, would you mind if I took out your garbage while we wait for your doctor?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I meant to, but I’ve been so tired.”
As I walked down the stairs, holding a garbage bag at arm’s length, I prayed. God, this journey has been so hard. Please don’t let this be another reason to go to the ER. Closing the garbage can in the alley, I breathed more deeply. Just do the next right thing, Serena.
As I returned to Ellie’s room, her voice floated down the stairs. I heard the familiar voice of her doctor, our faithful guide, on speakerphone. Through a series of referrals, we’d found Dr. Ashley, who specializes in Ellie’s complex conditions.
I sat next to Ellie as she chatted animatedly with Dr. Ashley, reviewing symptoms and debriefing her last call with her surgeon. As they analyzed the possible causes of her discomfort, I felt my anxiety rising. Please, not another ER trip.
God in the Sick Room
Suddenly, I remembered an experience from the night before. Using a spiritual practice called the Examen (developed by St. Ignatius, a 16th C. Spanish priest), I reflected on my day and where I noticed God’s presence. Last night, my Examen app invited me not just to reflect on my activities but to imagine God’s physical presence next to me in each part of the day.
What if I could do that right now?
I imagined Jesus1 perched on the desk behind me, joining me in listening to Ellie and Dr. Ashley as they navigated through Ellie’s health needs. Then I imagined God’s presence descending on the room, like a cloud, hovering over Ellie.
I’m not alone. What if I focus more on God’s presence with us, rather than how scared I am about Ellie’s health?
My breathing slowed and deepened. I closed my eyes for a few moments. As Ellie explored options with her doctor, I reviewed the basics. Ellie is safe. I’m okay. We will get through this.
Dr. Ashley concluded Ellie should just ride out these symptoms, as they didn’t seem indicative of anything that required hospital interventions. We agreed she would increase fluids and rest. Dr. Ashley suggested supportive measures to prepare for Ellie’s upcoming surgery.
Within a day, Ellie’s worst symptoms eased. Soon she was back to her favorite activities: lecturing us on various types of medical conditions and their treatment (she’s obsessed with becoming a doctor) and crafting a dress from thrift store fabric.
Conclusion
I don’t know if Ellie’s increased symptoms that day were caused by an allergic reaction, something hormonal or anxiety. Because her medical conditions are immensely complex, I have learned over time to release my need to ask those questions.
But I know that I gained a new tool. The next time I enter a stressful situation, especially related to my teen’s mental or physical health, I know I can invite divine companionship, whether through prayer, meditation, or simply an awareness of God’s presence. I will feel less alone. As my teens, especially Ellie, face significant challenges, I need tools like this to carry me through and to help me find serenity.
For those who share my faith, this could mean envisioning God in the room. For others, it might mean tapping into whatever source of strength feels authentic. The key isn’t in the details—it’s the realization that we don’t have to face our hardest moments alone.
I’d love to hear from you. How have you found peace in difficult parenting situations? If you are a person of faith, how does your faith sustain you in terrifying moments?
Quick Personal Update
Ellie is having surgery this coming week! I’d love your prayers and support. Two years ago, she began struggling with a complex set of health conditions affectionately known as the “terrible trifecta” (related to long Covid) which led to a severe gastrointestinal condition. Since we’ve exhausted all medication options, she needs GI surgery. While we all feel very sad and nervous about surgery, we hope that this will bring significant healing. I’ll keep you updated!
Grateful for your companionship on the journey,
P.S. Before you go, please tap the little ♡. It offers “social proof” and lets others know there’s something useful here. Thanks!
Quick caveat: I’m careful about how I share my faith in this space, as I want to welcome folks of any faith background. Whether or not you share my understanding of God, I hope there’s ways that this story feels helpful and translatable for you.
I love the mental image of God and Jesus in the room with you. I will carry that with me as well. I hope Elle's surgery comes out very well!
When i was a little girl, and even as a teen we were encouraged to imagine Jesus with us wherever we went, when sad, when hurt, when worried. Your post reminded me that God is with us all the time, but it's a powerful thing to think of him sitting right there caring and protect and helping us. You are such a wonderful mom.