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hope. I

 

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called Rachel's favorite cousin and asked him to call her. She was surprised she had a cousin who could connect with her pain.
Deal with Feelings of Hopelessness
You must find a place to turn when you feel hopeless. Some people in Twelve Step programs think of their friends as their higher power. Others have a strong relationship with God as they understand God, as a spiritual being. If ever I needed a higher power, it was when my daughter was in the hospital. I had a difficult time dealing with my despair, and I asked a lot of "Why me?" questions. Despair often washed over me with the same intensity it had before I sobered up. I felt powerless and inadequate. I felt like I had messed up my life. I also felt mad at God for giving me so many difficult problems.
My despair included feelings of hopelessness, shame, powerlessness, guilt, and anger. It included the hopelessness of thinking I would never break the negative patterns learned in my family of origin. I would come home from the hospital and lie down and think, "I can't recover fast enough. Why do I have to go through this too? Don't I ever get to escape the crisis mode of living?"
I didn't want to turn it all over to God. I felt like I would be surrendering Rachel's life, like Abraham

 

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putting his son on the altar. When I was a child, I didn't think Abraham should have put his son on the altar and, as an adult, I still don't think so. I don't have that much faith. Why would God want me to surrender my daughter? To write about it and then give others hope? No. I already did that about my family of origin and about incest. I don't want to keep undergoing terrible challenges just so the world can get the benefits of my experience through my writing. Let me experience some joy and I'll gladly write about that!
Finally I let my pain and despair be okay. There was so much of it, I would come home from the hospital and lie down and let myself just be in pain. At times I didn't want to talk with another human being. When I was really hurting, my chest felt like a flat, gray stone wall. All my sensations seemed to be focused on this emptiness. I felt carved out. I felt my chest was like the back side of the moon: gray, huge, pock-marked with craters, absolutely devoid of life.
At the same time, it had a shimmer like the new moon, where I could see the roundness. That was the odd thing: it was empty, I was empty, life was emptybut I didn't feel alone. I felt like the spirit of God was there with me, spirits of my grandmother, my brother, a presence, a resonance, a grounding voice that said, "I know it hurts." That's allno promises, no cheerful hopejust a presence.

 

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Acknowledgment. God does not like us to be in pain, but I believe God is with us when we are. I didn't feel the need to talk to another person in order to feel that I had been heard. I didn't feel isolated. I did talk to a lot of people for problem-solving. But I didn't need to do that to feel that I had been heard.
So in the end there it was, the surrender to God's will. If this is the way it was to be, I would accept it. I didn't like it, but I couldn't keep going on willpower alone.
Love Through the Pain
I didn't have much faith, faith in the sense that everything was working out for the best. I didn't have much hope. But I did love my daughter, and I had love for myself. A specific Bible verse hit me as though I were hearing it for the first time: ''Faith, hope, and charityand the greatest of these is charity." Love kept me going. My love gave Rachel hope.
By the time my daughter got out of treatment, I was determined to fight for the services necessary for her mental health with as much strength as I had, while at the same time surrendering her to the care of God. One friend told me what her therapist told her when her son slashed his wrists: "Some of our children get to grow and become giant oaks. Others are spring flowers. We love them and enjoy

 

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them