Super small person, super big spirit

My eldest reminds me a lot of me. Which is why I think she is so hard to parent-- because she demonstrates a lot of the traits I struggle to tame in myself and because she seems to have a grasp on God that very few kids have-- she definitely sees God in her microwave too. This kind of overwhelms me because she sometimes sees the things of God far more clearly than I do. I'm supposed to be leading her to Him but sometimes, many times, she is the one doing the leading. It also makes it hard because I empathize with her-- I remember feeling a lot of the the things she is feeling and I wish I could spare her the hard lessons!

I am sensitive. People have always thought of me as emotional and easily overwhelmed and stressed out... but internally, there is a lot more going on in me than I notice visibly in other people. If I am in an environment that is unfamiliar, I am hyper aware of the things around me: noises, feelings, smells.... It's enough to cause me to lose concentration in a dinner conversation when I hear someone else's fork and knife making tinging noises on their plate. My eye sight is bad so I compensate with noticing other things. I get a "nervous" feeling often when something is not right in a room I'm in. When I was a kid, I was easily terrified. When I was a teenager, I "felt" things in rooms and buildings that other people rarely noticed. Once I came to Jesus, I gained a strong, internal alarm that alerted me to some things or people I needed to be on guard about. I later learned that this was called "discernment" and was a gift of the holy spirit. It literally took years to learn how to control the inner input levels---how to tune stimulus out or, conversely, how to tune in. And it still sometimes gets away from me...my husband and I experience identical supernatural or paranormal phenomena in two very different ways, for example. While he has a tendency to acknowledge that "something is going on," and then move on, I remain stuck in the "feeling" of it and continue to experience sensory input for quite a while even if I don't want to because it feels like too much.

It's sometimes hard to parent when you are a believer because you don't always trust your own instincts. Or at least, you question your trust of your own instinct... if that makes sense. I believe in the spiritual, in angels and demons. But I am also a rational human being. If my child is afraid of a ghost, I'm going to treat it as I would any investigation: to look first to what is in her direct environment. Did she overhear us talking about ghosts? Did she see a picture or a movie about a ghost somewhere? Did her grandpa tell her a ghost story when I wasn't around? If I can effectively rule out all other possibilities I can at least feel comfortable entertaining the idea that we are dealing with spiritual phenomena...but not before. In which case the next big step is really just to investigate how to pray for her.

Which brings me back to her. I mentioned before that she has an uncanny knack for spiritual things-- and why should I be surprised?
Before she was born she was prophesied over-- that she would be like an olympic torch, that other people would light their flame of faith on hers. (Exciting once I learned about St Brighid's flame!)
This is the girl who, without any exposure to Mary, saw Mary over our dining room table holding the infant Jesus, and who later discovered the Catholic Girl's Guide in the sandbox which, among other combined "God moments" helped us both to cross the Tiber.

I'll give a couple of examples of what daily life with her is like. And before I do, I will say this: Everyone thinks their kid is "special." I get that. And that's not what this is, although, of course, I think she's special. :P My point is that she often does stuff that just leaves me dumbfounded-- and those around me as well.

So, for example. The other day she was worried about giants. She told me that she could hear the giants in the backyard. Her grandpa immediately jumped in and told her that egg nog was a giant deterrent (couldn't have picked water, huh, Grandpa? What am I going to do when the holidays are over? :P)
She gulped down a whole glass of eggnog and then said to me: "I still hear him in the garden. I hear a lot of noises. There is a dog out there too."
I explained to her that sometimes we had to ignore things we hear (she's very sensitive to sound, going as far as covering her ears at parades and movies and getting visibly distressed over the volume level.) Then I thought twice, not wanting her to totally grow to "tune out" everything either-- but rather to grow to learn how to tune in or tune out as needed. Sometimes our senses are telling us something we need to know-- alerting us. I didn't want her to drown that out.
So, long story short I gave her a child-sized version of tuning out and tuning in and we played the game for a few minutes. Satisfied that she felt she had a little more control over the input levels in her senses, I walked off to do some dishes. She surprised the heck out of me by coming into the kitchen and saying: "Mommy, my eye TV (this is what she calls her thoughts) says that the giant is only in my imagination, but that he isn't what I need to worry about." I was surprised, since that isn't language I normally use with her, but I just smiled and said encouragingly: "You're right. He's made up." Then she was quiet for a moment before telling me: "But if I DO have to worry about a giant, then I will call David. He's my favorite saint because he killed a giant and he will do that here." It is uncanny to me how she just picks this stuff up.

Yesterday I was thumbing through a Yoga Journal mag before laying down to nap.

(note to readers who don't know this about me- I practice sanctified yoga. Fully believing that, like Christmas trees, Christians are called to sanctify the world by taking what IS good out of evil and giving it a facelift through Christ. I have no problem calling it "yoga" although I realize that many of my Christian sisters and brothers prefer to leave yoga out of the picture and simply call what I'm describing "stretching and meditating on the Word of God." I am fully aware of the whole "stay away from yoga" thing and I think it's a perfectly valid "fear" that people have. I am confronted often with people who suffer from demonic attacks due to a mindless yoga practice.
However, to those with discernment, there is much good that can come from a regular yoga practice - and even from Yoga Journal! I just recommend that you pray for the HOLY Spirit to enlighten your mind and protect you from evil before you dive in and believe it all. I'm sure I've blogged about this before, but feel that in light of "the War on Yoga" and the fact that I blog publicly both about my yoga practice AND my deliverance ministry, it warrants a brief footnote.)

So, I was zipping through this mag and Annika came up next to me and stops me on a page and points out a picture of Ganesh. (yes, I have books wiht pictures of Ganesh in my house.... No, they don't cause demonic infestions. But maybe in YOUR house, they might. ;))

"Who's THAT, mommy?"
"It's just an elephant."
"No, why is he green? Why does he have that thing on his forehead?"
"I don't know, sweetie. Somebody painted him."
"Well I don't think he's a part of our communion," She says to me. I raise an eyebrow.
"No?"
"Nope. I don't think he's a part of our communion and I don't like him and I don't think he's allowed in here. And if he comes in, my daddy will see him no matter what he looks like and he will shoot him." (her daddy is the one who knows all there is to know about Eastern Religion.)
Hmmm. I didn't want to pry, so I just said: "That's right, sweetie." But how incredible that, at three, she GETS that the demonic god Ganesh--yeah, I said it-- is certainly NOT a part of our communion (how does she even understand the application of this word?), and that he is certainly NOT welcome here, and that her daddy will recognize him in any form he takes. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into her comment... who knows? To me, it was almost mystical.

Then there's tonight. I gave her a few of my old "Martine" books to read before sleeping and she landed on "Martine et les quatre saisons."
A few minutes after correcting her for getting out of bed, I told her: Now, I'm leaving and I do NOT want to hear your voice again until morning, do you understand me?"
"Mommy, yes, mommy!" She shouted gleefully (we've been playing drill sgt and new recruits lately :P)

"Is there anything else you want to know or talk about before I go?"
"Yes," She says to me.
"What's that?"
She opens the book to a page where Martine and a little boy are squatting near a river which is coming down from an alpy looking mountain, and where a goat is frolicking happily around the adjoining pasture. It could have been a scene taken straight out of my childhood.
"Tonton Sean can't sleep right now and he is thinking about you and him being children together right here."
Tonton Sean is my brother, Seanessey, who we haven't talked about in months. He is deployed in Iraq again and having a pretty rotten deployment this time around. She and I had never discussed this memory or much of anything about when Seanessey and I grew up.
I was totally incredulous. Where did that come from?? I could feel the tears coming on so I just went out into the living room with a stern look saying : "Go to sleep." I wondered if, indeed, Sean WAS sitting halfway across the globe trying to sleep and thinking about us being kids in the French Alps? It seemed likely. I told my husband about it and he said: "She's just a little prophetic bean. I don't know what to say."

Another time, a dear friend of ours was dealing with her husband's deployment. He is an air force pilot. Out of NOWHERE she began asking if we could pray for him together and kept it up all on her own during his entire deployment. And although we had never specifically discussed with her that they had been trying to conceive, one night she looked at me with a serious face when I asked who she wanted to pray for.
"Let's pray for Annie, momma. She wants to have a baby in her belly." I was breathless.

It isn't always such a blessing-- this also means she is particularly sensitive to negative spiritual stuff. I remember a particularly difficult stretch with her when we lived in our old house and were helping two couples through a particularly intense demonic situation, of which she was absolutely blissfully unaware. We had been sitting in the house with a priest friend and discussing the situation. My husband was talking, and I got this sick sense in the pit of my stomach that he needed to STOP talking-- but there was no stopping him. The priest and I exchanged a brief glance and I wondered if my husband was making him MORE nervous than he already was. Just then, we heard a loud, distinct scrape and a bang. My husband didn't even notice, but the priest and I both jumped. I begged my husband to go in the kids room and see what it was, and he looked at me like I was the biggest nerd ever.
"Seriously?" He joked. "You heard a nooise?? WooooOOOOOoooooOOOOO."
I snapped at him:"I'm not playing. It was crazy loud. Get IN there and see if they are OK."
Father looked over at him with the most serious face I've ever seen him make and said: "it sounded like the dresser lifted off the floor and came crashing down." I agreed. He went in there and couldn't find a thing.
Later that night, we were awakened by my daughter, who was screaming with all her little might that bugs were crawling all over her.
Now, keep in mind, we live in the south and its entirely possible that a cockroach could have been on her. But we examined her and found nothing. The entire night, she stayed awake, even though she was safely snuggled between us, and every time she drifted into sleep she would screech that bugs were on her or pulling her legs. this went on for weeks thereafter, no matter what we did, and one day abruptly ended with no warning. She "slept" with us the whole time.

Another time during this wierd "bug" phase, she was lying in bed. She has a habit of getting VERY focused on something visually in order to drift off to sleep. This is important because it calms all her other senses and helps her to zone out. At the time, we had a night light that was a representation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. So there she was, staring intently at it by her face, just drifting off, when a GIANT bug began to creep out from behind the nightlight. Then another. Then another. I'm not two, but as a full fledged adult if this would have happened to me I would have totally spazzed out. And this kind of thing just HAD to happen right while she was being "attacked" by bugs every night? Hmmm. During this same time period I happened to see a cockroach infestation all over a baptismal font and altar in a haunted parish. Two reknowned demonologists confirmed for me my suspicion that there was some possibility of demonic interference there with the bugs-- after all, demons can enter Swine, right? I feel certain that this incident coincided with my daughter's experience right on time for me to "grasp" this reality. I don't see these occurences as "accidents," although I'm certain many of my readers will.

Another time I was having a problem with a nasty feeling of dread I was getting from a particular corner of my living room in the middle of the night while up nursing. I finally went to bed and began the nightly dance I do: Nurse the baby. Put baby to bed. Tuck a cold toddler back into bed. Pee. Lie down. Get up ten minutes later to soothe a fussy baby. Lie down. Get up to help another toddler pee. Lie down. Get up to soothe said toddler back to sleep. Etc. Anyways, most of the night while I was doing all this I felt very uneasy, and this is unusual for my house. I simply felt, for lack of a better term, "watched" by a presence. It followed me from room to room and I just couldn't shake it, despite a middle of the night rosary. My daughter ended up sleeping in our room frpm 4ish on with her dad, while I kept the baby and the other toddler content and moved from room to room. At six or so I fell into my bed with my daughter and husband and began to close my eyes. My husband nudged me and said with a funny voice: "Annika, tell mommy what you've been telling daddy."
I looked at her.
"There's something following you." She said. I got chills. He told me that she had come to bed with him and insisted that she saw something walking with mommy. All I could do was cross myself. He later said that she was seeing the shadow of the flag outside our window. Who knows?

There have been many negative situations like this, but I like to focus on the positive. Yesterday morning as I was making breakfast and asking her what she wanted, (and consequentially, internally bemoaning the fact that I couldn't go to daily mass because we were both cranky from lack of sleep) she paused in my kitchen and said: "Mommy, we give God bread and He turns it into Jesus and makes it bread from heaven and then he tells us to eat it."
"Yes! You're right, he does. It's called "The Eucharist."" I said.
"We need to eat some soon. I think we will feel better."

I could go on forever with these little stories, but I think you get the idea...The point I'm making is that parenting a child, when one has this extrasensory spiritual perception, is truly challenging. I always want to be logical and balanced, and I NEVER want to project anything onto her. sure, she seems to understand communion perfectly, but when I ask her if she's excited about making her first communion she tells me she thinks she will put on a dress and marry Ishod (her brother) :P

My husband and I have not yet broached the subject of spiritual warfare with her in any way other than to tell her that if she's scared or nervous Jesus is with her and all she has to do is talk to Him about it and use His name. I find it astonishing that she can, at her young age, "get" spiritual truths in such a profound, life-changing way, as well as download sensory information that is often just surprisingly accurate, alongside having these deeply freaky paranormal experiences. I have no idea how to parent her, I just keep plowing along and hoping for the best, trying to let her know at every turn that she is loved beyond all measure. I imagine her powerful reactions (alternating between blissful obedience and contentment and absolutely mind-boggling fits which defy the imagination) have a lot to do with the powerful pull over her soul. I pray she wins the battle every day.