Like Mother, Like Daughter?

We both have brown hair.
Our eyes are similar.
We like the same music.
Both of us enjoy reading.
We laugh at the same jokes.
You'd be surprised if you heard us belch.
And we both love God with our whole heart.
These are some of the reasons I am sure Elizabeth is my girl.
She's just like me in so many ways!

But I've been noticing another similarity over the past couple years which has me wondering if she inherited more than my witty charm, refined tastes, and astonishingly good looks. *wink*
That is, I notice her crying an awful lot. Often times the tears come with little or no prompting. The other day she did her best to convince me nothing was wrong. She just had to cry. She thought maybe she was too tired. Whatever the reason - she couldn't stop the tears from coming.
And as I sat there watching her - searching for the words to say which would give her some level of comfort - I couldn't help but wonder.
Did my girl get my wacky Serotonin issues, too?
The question came to me because I saw so much of my old self in the girl sitting across the table from me. The look of hopelessness and helplessness. The expression of frustration at not knowing why she couldn't stop crying. Or why she was crying in the first place. The despair.
It was all too familiar to me.
And I wondered.
Still do.
The thing is, I don't want to project my struggles onto her.
So I hesitate to ask the question. Because I don't want Elizabeth to take on something that isn't true of her - just because I suggest it.
Annnnd, on the other hand, I don't want her to battle with a thing until she's nearly 40, just because she doesn't realize she's battling it. Don't want her to simply think she's odd and needs to suffer with her oddness. Wondering what on earth is wrong.

So I'm doing what I always do when I don't know what to do. I'm asking my Father to lead me; to show me what I need to see; to move me where I need to go.
And I'm waiting.
Trusting. And waiting.