We searched everywhere for her – her sister and I. We called her name at the top of our voices. Searched inside the house, walked into all the rooms. Called her name outside the house and walked around the garden. We could not find her anywhere. I walked into her room again and, suddenly, I had the idea to look under her bed. There she was, looking at me with sorrowful eyes.
I called her sister and gestured under the bed. Without words we crawled in and lay next to her, one on each side, under the bed. We were silent. She sighed. We waited. Then she said, “I am having an under-the-bed day”. I said, “It’s okay. We will be here with you”. “Yes,” her sister echoed. “We will be with you under the bed”. We did not speak. It was not necessary. We just breathed together. After a while, she said, “It is better now. We can all get out from under the bed”.
I do not remember what we did next. There were other signs after that. She could not recall the sequence of her ballet routine. Her mostly happy changed to mostly sad. It was the start of her depression, which was diagnosed and treated with love, acceptance, medicine and prayer. It became a saying in our household: “Are you having an under-the-bed day?”
Do you sometimes have an “under-the-bed day?”
Psalm 139:7 “Where could I go from your Spirit? Where could I run and hide from Your face?”
Dear God, in these troubled and terrible times, we are all challenged by “under-the-bed days”.
Hide us in Your presence. Your presence are the air we breathe. We cannot see it. Without it we cannot live.
Be our oxygen Pappa God.