A Cousin's Prayer (19 page)

June quickly slipped into the more humid days of July and August. Katie was still plagued by panic attacks, but as Freeman continued to accompany her to the counseling sessions, she found herself drawn to him and wishing that he might see her as more than a friend. He’d dropped by the stamp shop several times and had come over to the house some evenings just to visit. Katie kept reminding herself that Freeman was going out with Eunice. He’d given no indication that he felt anything for Katie other than friendship, and if he ended up marrying Eunice, then the friendship he and Katie had now would be over.

Katie wondered if Freeman might see her as more than a friend if she were prettier and more outgoing like Eunice. Or maybe he’d be attracted to her if she was emotionally stable and didn’t have panic attacks.

As Katie sat in Dr. Coleman’s office one afternoon, she told him that she was getting impatient in her search for something that would put an end to her panic attacks and that she was about to give up.

“We’ve talked about this before, Katie,” he said. “Impatience shows a lack of faith. You must be willing to tell God that you surrender your will to His and that you’ll trust Him and not lose heart. When we ask God to do something, we often want to tell Him how and when to do it. We want it to be done our way. In the end, though, it must be God’s will, not ours.”

It sounded so easy, but Katie had never felt close enough to God to surrender her will to Him. She didn’t tell Dr. Coleman that, though. Instead, she sat with her hands folded, staring at the floor.

Dr. Coleman handed her a slip of paper. “Here’s another verse for you to memorize and use whenever you start to doubt. ‘What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.’ Psalm 56:3.” He smiled. “As you practice some of the suggestions I’ve given you, trust the Lord and visualize Him helping you.”

Katie swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn’t break down and cry. If only it were that simple.

“Have you been keeping a panic journal like I suggested?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve written down a few things, but I usually forget.”

“I believe it will help if you write down where you were and what was happening during an attack, then record your level of discomfort, the thoughts you had, and your behavior during the attack.”

“I’ll try to do better with that.”

“What about the breathing techniques I asked you to try? Are you practicing them regularly?”

She nodded. “I have been doing those, and I’ve been trying to relax the parts of my body that are the tensest during a panic attack.”

“Are you making yourself do things that frighten you, or are you still avoiding them?”

“I ... I’m avoiding them whenever I can, and I get nervous just thinking about going anywhere alone.”

“The goal of exposing yourself to the things that frighten you is to bring on an attack so you can practice responding to it in a more comfortable way.”

“That sounds hard.”

“It won’t be easy at first, but it’s important for you to acknowledge your urge to flee, yet stay in place and work through the panic attack.”

Katie clenched and unclenched her fingers. Just thinking about an attack made her feel as if she could have one right now.

“Have you tried getting angry at the attacks—talking back to them, telling them to do their best?”

“No, I haven’t tried that yet.”

“Have you taken the horse and buggy out alone?”

“I’m too scared to try driving the buggy alone. The last time I took it out by myself, I had a very bad panic attack.” Katie shuddered, and tears blurred her vision. “Now I’m afraid of losing control.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to try some medication to help you feel calmer.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid I’ll become dependent on it or that it’ll make me feel sleepy.” She blotted the tears on her cheeks and sniffed. “If at all possible, I want to do this without medication.”

He stared at the notes on his desk. “What about the homeopathic remedy you said your mother got from the health food store? Have you tried taking that to see if it makes you feel calmer?”

She shook her head.

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned forward and looked at her intently. “Do you want to get better, Katie?”

She stiffened. “Of course I do!” She couldn’t believe he’d even asked her that question.

“Then you need to practice the things I’ve suggested, and if you’re not going to let me prescribe some medication, I want you to try the homeopathic remedy.” He glanced at his watch. “Our time is up for today, but when you come back next week, I’ll expect a progress report.”

Feeling as though she’d been thoroughly scolded, Katie gave a quick nod and hurried from the room.

When Katie stepped out of the counselor’s room, her head was down and her shoulders were slumped. Freeman knew immediately that she was upset. He was tempted to ask how it had gone but decided that if Katie wanted to talk about it she would. It might upset her more if he pressed for details.

Freeman opened the door for Katie, and they walked silently across the parking lot.

“How’d your appointment go, Katie?” Mary Hertz asked when they climbed into her van.

“Okay,” Katie said with a shrug.

Freeman hoped Mary wouldn’t question Katie further, and he decided to try to get her talking about something else. “Did you get some shopping done?” he asked.

Mary shook her head. “Decided there wasn’t anything I needed right now, so I stayed in the van and got caught up on my reading.” She lifted a copy of
The Budget
newspaper. “I read several of the articles written by various Amish scribes around the country. Many related to accidents that had occurred last month.”

Freeman glanced at Katie, who sat staring out the window as though deep in thought.

Mary pointed to the newspaper and frowned. “In Ohio, a young Amish woman was hit by a car when she was crossing the street to get to a phone shed.” She pointed to another article. “Someone’s buggy in Pennsylvania was hit when a car failed to stop at a stop sign.” Her finger slid down the page. “Then in Illinois, a young boy was killed when he fell from the hayloft.” She shook her head slowly. “Guess one never knows when their time will be up.”

Freeman glanced at Katie. Her chin quivered, and her fingers were curled tightly into the palms of her hands. She was obviously distressed. Was it the things Mary had shared from
The Budget,
or was Katie upset about whatever had been said during her counseling session?

Usually Freeman headed straight to his shop after they dropped Katie off at her house, but today he thought he’d better stick around for a while and see if she would tell him what was bothering her.

As they headed down the road, Mary continued to comment on the accidents she’d read about in
The Budget,
and Katie felt like she could scream. By the time they got to her house, she was on the verge of a panic attack. She paid Mary for the ride, said goodbye to Freeman, and stepped out of the van.

“Wait up, Katie!” Freeman called as Katie hurried toward the stamp shop.

Katie halted and turned around. “I need to help my mamm.”

“I’d like to talk to you a few minutes, and I promise I won’t keep you long.” Freeman motioned to the pond beyond their barn. “Why don’t we take a walk out there so we can visit in private?”

Katie glanced at the parking area on the side of the stamp shop. She saw only one car and no buggies, so she figured Mom wasn’t that busy at the moment. “I guess I can take a few minutes to talk, but maybe we should sit on the porch so I can watch the stamp shop in case more customers show up and Mom gets real busy.”

Freeman nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

They stepped onto the porch. Katie took a seat on the swing, and Freeman leaned against the porch railing.

“What’d you want to talk to me about?” Katie asked.

“I noticed when you came out of the counselor’s office that you seemed upset.”

Katie’s face heated up, and perspiration beaded on her forehead.

“If you’d rather not talk about it, I’ll understand.”

“It’s all right. I might feel better if I do talk about it.” Katie sighed as she massaged the back of her neck. “Dr. Coleman got after me for not doing some of the things he’d suggested, and then he accused me of not wanting to get better. He also said I might need to try medication.”

“Are you going to?”

She shook her head. “I think I’ll try the homeopathic remedy my mamm bought at the health food store some time ago.”

“That’s a good idea. Remember, a remedy worked well for me.”

The swing squeaked as Katie pushed it back and forth with her feet.

“Were you upset only because of what Dr. Coleman said, or did something that Mary mentioned reading about in
The Budget
upset you?”

“I ... I don’t like hearing about people dying,” Katie mumbled.

“Death is part of life,” Freeman said.

“I know that, but I don’t have to like it.”

“That’s right—you don’t, but you shouldn’t get upset just because someone talks about dying.”

She nibbled on the inside of her cheek, wondering how much she should say. Freeman might not understand the way she felt about things. “Can we please change the subject? I really don’t want to talk about death.”

“How come?”

“I just don’t, that’s all.”

“You’re not afraid of death, are you, Katie?”

Tears clung to her lashes, and her throat felt so clogged she could barely swallow. “Jah. To be honest, I’m afraid of dying.”

“I think most everyone fears death a little, but that’s because the process of dying is something we haven’t experienced before. But if we know where we’re going, then—”

Katie shook her head vigorously. “I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t know where I’m going.” She drew in a shaky breath. “If I died tomorrow, I don’t know if I’d go to heaven.”

“You’d go there if you believe that Jesus is the Son of God and have invited Him into your heart.” Freeman took a seat on the porch swing beside her. “Didn’t you make that commitment and profession of faith when you joined the church?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just said what was expected of me, and I’ve never really understood it or felt as if I know God in a personal way.”

“Have you ever read John 11:25–26, about Jesus being the resurrection and the life?”

“I don’t know.”

“It says: ‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’”

Katie shifted on the swing. She didn’t think she’d ever heard those verses before. If she had, she must not have been paying attention.

“In order to make it to heaven, we have to accept Christ as our Savior and believe that He died for our sins.” Freeman touched Katie’s arm. “Have you ever accepted Christ as your Savior and asked Him to forgive your sins?”

Katie shook her head.

“Would you like to do that now?”

She nodded, for she didn’t trust her voice.

“All you need to do is tell Jesus that you believe in Him and acknowledge that He’s the Son of God, who died for you.”

“I’d like to do that right now.” Katie bowed her head and silently prayed,
Heavenly Father, I believe that Jesus is Your only begotten Son, and that He died on the cross for me. I believe that He rose from the dead to give me a new life. I confess my sins and ask You to wash them away. Amen.

When Katie opened her eyes, a gentle breeze caressed her face, and she drew in a deep breath. Her heart was raised to God in joyful adoration and thankfulness. She wanted to bask in this comfortable feeling forever. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Freeman for helping her finally see the truth. She wondered if her fear of death could have been the root cause of her panic attacks. She couldn’t help but think that God knew all about her anxiety attacks and that He would help her find a way to overcome them. It was the first time she’d felt any real sense of hope that she might get better.

She looked over at Freeman and smiled. “Danki for being my friend.”

He returned her smile. “You’re welcome.”

That afternoon while Katie was in the stamp shop organizing some colored pens and pencils they’d recently gotten in, she thought about the time she’d spent with Freeman on the porch and how, for the first time in her life, she no longer feared death. Her only concern was the panic attacks that plagued her. Maybe she needed to force herself to do things, like Dr. Coleman had said. She would keep doing her breathing exercises for relaxation, try out the tapping method Wayne had used for his phantom pains, write down her thoughts, and face her fears head-on. She knew it would take courage to drive the buggy by herself, but with God’s help, maybe she could.

“Ach, Katie, kumme ... schnell!” Mom hollered from the back room where she’d gone to cut some cardstock.

Katie raced into the room, wondering why Mom was telling her to come quickly. When she saw Mom’s hand covered with blood, her breath caught in her throat.

“What happened?”

Mom teetered unsteadily. “I cut my hand on the paper cutter, and it’s bleeding really bad.”

Fearful that Mom might pass out, Katie grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around Mom’s hand. Then she pulled out a chair so Mom could sit down.

“I think it’s going to need stitches,” Mom said shakily. “You’d better get your daed and tell him to call one of our drivers.”

Katie slowly shook her head. “Dad’s not in his shop right now. He went to Shipshe to pick up some supplies at the hardware store, and his helper went home already.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Mom’s face was as pale as a bedsheet, and blood had begun to seep through the towel wrapped around her hand.

“I’ll run down to the phone shed and call for help. Just sit right there and apply pressure to the wound.” Katie rushed out the door.

When she reached the phone shed a few minutes later, she was nearly out of breath. She dropped into the folding chair inside the shed, picked up the receiver, and was about to dial Mary Hertz’s number when she realized that the phone was dead. The wind storm they’d had the previous night must have knocked out the power.