Autism Over the Years

"

A walk in the dark...can lead to wisdom, deliver us from fear and (as is intended) lead us closer to
God. "

It's been a dark month for sure.  Not just autism, but in some of my closest relationships.  A darker place than I have ever been.  It's not that it's not autism, everything in my life is affected by, related to, shaded by autism in some form or fashion.  Autism consumes a family, no matter how hard they try to "fake it."   As I've tried to climb out of this pit, dark and lonely, I keep praying, what is it that I could learn in the darkness?

I've never liked the dark, always as a child I slept with the light on, I don't mean a night light, I mean the lights blaring.  I was pretty much a "scaredy cat" of most things.  Funny how being afraid of things, sure doesn't keep them from happening to you.

 I recently read this quote, "Turning into darkness, instead of away from it, is the cure for a lot of what ails me.  Because I have a deep need to be in control of things, to know where I am going, to be sure of my destination, to get there efficiently, to have all the provisions I need, to do it all without help--and you can't do any of that in the dark."  There you have it, there in lies my struggle.

What can be done in the dark?  I keep thinking of Joseph (yep the one from the bible)  in the pit.  His own brothers put him there.  I can't imagine the shock and despair he felt.  The betrayal alone was enough to destroy any possible hope he had for the future.  But he didn't go there.  He got out of that pit with a "door prize" so to speak.  He now knew who his enemies were.  He may not have been innocent anymore, but he was a whole lot smarter.  The dark taught him a thing or two about trust.  He will no longer skirt the edge of the pit without concern.  Chances are, he'll stay a fair distance just to be sure.  Since most of us, know the rest of the story, even that didn't keep him out of another place of darkness, a prison.  Another dark place he was thrown into, because of someone's lies and sin.

Those of us who have children with autism have spent more than our far share of time in darkness... from the moment of our child's first seizure, or the moment we realized they would never talk again.  Each one of us,  has that defining moment.
Because autism wasn't known during the early 90's, mine was reading some medical cases and finding a similar case and reading, Prognosis: guarded.  I'd say, the prognosis for my entire family has been "GUARDED" ever since.

I so often wonder what my Britton would say if he was given just one minute, or one hour to tell me everything he thinks and feels.  Would he be angry?  Would he be sad, would he tell me that autism has his mind in a place of darkness?  sighhhh  I can't go there.  He smiles the most beautiful smile all the time.  He laughs for no reason that I know of.  He is kind, and gentle.  Recently his dad was super sick with a virus, and he walked up to him, put both hands on the sides of his dad's face and closed his eyes.  He looked very much to be praying for his dad.  I'm choosing that.  Because the dark choice is too close to the edge of the pit.

I like to believe that I traded in my loss of innocence for integrity.  That I can no longer be quiet about the REAL cause of autism, and I first earned the right to say it in an emergency room at 2:30 in the morning.  My son was completely blue, even his nails beds, and I had done rescue breathing on him for about 15-20 minutes all the way to the hospital.  Talk about a dark place.  When God was dealing with the children of Israel and their sin, I found this interesting scripture...“And Moses went to the thick darkness where God was, but the people worshiped from afar.”  It fascinated me that God was in the darkness.  But did you notice that the people worshiped from afar?  It's sort of like life with autism, we MUST stay close to God or we will not survive, often we meet him in the dark places of the soul.  But other people seem to have the choice to worship God from "afar."  Far away will never do in a life with autism, we live right up next to the pit, and sliding over is only one tiny hairs width from crashing to the bottom.  

It seems that there are times in the darkness that our pain becomes so unbearable, we are willing to do anything, go anywhere, seek ANYONE to end the agony.  For me, that anyone, is God.  How I end up in a dark place is of course circumstances.  My son's health takes a nose dive, and he's in pain that I have no way to treat.  I watch him suffer and I cannot endure the helplessness. Doctors rarely ever know what to do.   I can't pay his medical bills, or if I do, I can't pay anything else.  Before long, it's dark all around me.  I'm begging God to make an exception, just for me and my son.  Bend His rules, or bless my half heartedness.  One thing I am sure of, God does not deal.  It's just that simple.  If you're a gambler, don't bet too much on changing God's mind.  It's an extremely rare occurrence.  IF it does indeed occur at all.  
We can stay there in the darkness, far too long if we let our eyes adjust and become comfortable.  A season of darkness is a ripe learning place, a lifetime of darkness  is a grave.  We forget that God use to comfort us, that our divine encounters are very real.  We forget in the dark, what we knew was true in the light!   After a while the dark place breeds hopelessness, and we feel too buried in our present state to feel any hope in our promised future.  

Don't get me wrong, there is no more solid concept in scripture than God's children crying for His help, and Him coming to their rescue.  He always hears our cries for help, whether in the dark or in the light.  I have often cried out to him from the darkness, and been surprised to have him answer right beside me.  NEVER EVER, are we in the dark alone unless we ask Him to leave us.  Even then I know that He is only one desperate plea away.  Darkness has taught me to trust in His presence.  To take steps when I am afraid it is a pit.  To jump if He says I should, to leap into the arms of a very trustworthy God. 

 "If smooth living, invariably, eventually makes for sloppy spirituality" then I guess that's not for me.  I've never had smooth living, autism is never been an easy road. 

 I think I'll take that as an invitation..."Your God requires the honor of your presence at the foot of the cross..." I usually have to make a trip through the dark to get there.  You too?  Well then, let's hold hands and go together.  The dark is so much less scary when you know you're not alone.