Jesus can even use tic tacs
"Mystery is not the absence of meaning, but the presence of more meaning than we can comprehend."
Autism is indeed a huge mystery. Ask any parent and they will usually shrug their shoulders. People say to me, "What does he want? What does that mean?" Obviously I'm his mom, I should know. But I don't. I try try try try try. Only God in heaven really knows how hard I've tried. I still don't know what he's thinking, what he's feeling, if he's hurting. Time has given me clues, but truly clues are all I have. It's always a mystery, always a risk that I'll make a mistake. Inevitably I make lots of them.
I recently reread the Pilgrims Progress, and it really wasn't what I remembered. I had to laugh at how many times Pilgrim made a mess of things. (Poor pilgrim, I am him!) He got into trouble, he gave up the fight, he flirted with suicide, he was depressed and sad and spent lots of time in despair. Most the books I read are all about living in Victory and how we can just get through this life on the mountain top. Well, somehow Pilgrim didn't read those "self help" books. I'd like to live on the mountain top, but I realized the mountain top is small and the valleys long and deep. At a particularly low moment in Pilgrims journey,
Mr. Hopeful says, "Be of good cheer, my brother, for I feel the bottom and it is sound."
So there you go. How often in my life with autism, I need to be reminded that even when I'm at the bottom, this is as low as it goes. I try to translate that for Britton, to encourage him. I'm sure he wonders where the bottom is.
So a couple of weekends ago, we woke Britton up around 8:45 and went on to church. He was super easy going, and pliable. He just did whatever, no growls or complaints. We sat through the preaching and he didn't seem to want to leave. So, we decided we would wait through the second service and just see how long he would stay. It was such a rare treat for us. One of the pastors came over and was visiting with us. Britton reached in my purse for his empty box of tic tacs and I explained to him he had eaten them all. (We bring tic tacs and hand lotion, those two things help him sit a little longer.) Nothing was really said. But honestly, tic tacs make all the difference as to how long we get to stay in church. I massage his hands and arms and he just sits and then I give him a few tic tacs. Whatever it takes to get to hear the Word we'll do it. :) The Pastor asked if we knew there was a book store and a coffee shop, and places that "might make church easier for us with Britton." It was so observant, kind and unusual. She offered to take me around and show me everything. I was shocked enough to just nod. Church life with the disabled is a very big test. By that I mean, "church people" are not normally that nice to families of the disabled. I'd describe it as more of a tolerance than acceptance. We actually had a man at one church tell us that Britton would not be welcome in the regular services if he was going to make any noise. Every once in a while I have had enough, and that was not that man's lucky day. I replied, "Jesus made noise, I wonder if he is welcome in the regular services?" Oh yes, I said it, and no I'm not sorry. But back to the tic tacs.
I don't mean to sound tainted, although I'm certain I am. I don't mean to sound cynical, although I'm sure I'm that too. I just mean that it's unusual for someone to even notice what might be needed by a family with special needs. Most churches are not comfortable with disabilities. I mean, seriously, who is?
All the families that have children with disabilities that I know of, are constantly begging for help. The truth is, the church hardly knows where to start. The good news is, that the ones that really love Jesus do WANT to start.
But I believe in the church, I believe in God's family, though I have to admit that it often takes faith to do so. Faith is not something as solid as I wish it were. It's not a skill I've mastered, it's more like beach sand, falling through my fingers. Faith has been in my life more of a gift from God. I need to pray for it every single day. I recite, "Faith is, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Over and over and over again. The times I've experienced complete faith I can probably count on one hand. Now if you're not a Christian you may think that's a strange thing to say. But faith is not something we can count on our flesh to embrace. As a matter of fact, everything inside of me screams, "are you insane, why do you HOPE for what is impossible?" (BIG sighhhhhhhh) Because God is the only one I can really count on. Go ahead try to decipher that paradox. :) I cannot explain it, I just know that it is. I know that it has changed me, and that when all else fails, God will indeed hold me when everyone else is gone.
I don't mean to sound tainted, although I'm certain I am. I don't mean to sound cynical, although I'm sure I'm that too. I just mean that it's unusual for someone to even notice what might be needed by a family with special needs. Most churches are not comfortable with disabilities. I mean, seriously, who is?
All the families that have children with disabilities that I know of, are constantly begging for help. The truth is, the church hardly knows where to start. The good news is, that the ones that really love Jesus do WANT to start.
"Jesus grieved over many things that happen on this planet, a sure sign that God regrets them far more than we do. Not once did Jesus counsel someone to accept suffering as God's will; rather he went about healing illness and disability."
We have been loved by many Godly people, although autism is really hard to love. We had a precious pastor who blocked off part of the back row, just so we could always sit where it was easiest for us. God bless him, he's such a good man. I think perhaps Autism families think that asking for what we need would just be too selfish? However I cannot tell you all the emotions I felt that Sunday morning. Just before church was about to start again, this same precious woman brought over a box of tic tacs to Britton. I looked at my husband, and his eyes also filled with tears. Britton signed "thank you" then blew her a kiss. Then her eyes filled with tears. I really couldn't believe it. I don't know where she got them. I know she was working and had a lot of more pressing matters, but she just wanted to help. My husband and I have cried so many tears over that box of tic tacs. Thank you Jesus, and thank you to the church. Disability families don't really need as much as you might think. When tic tacs seems like more love and concern than we could imagine, it seems the church needs to open it's eyes and realize it might not be that hard. We just want to be included, noticed (in a normal way) cared about, and loved. I suppose that's what everyone wants.
"Truth strikes us from behind, and in the dark"
Henry David Thoreau
"If knowing answers to life's questions is absolutely necessary to you, then forget the journey. You will never make it, for this is a journey of unknowables--of unanswered questions, enigmas, incomprehensibles, and most of all, things unfair."
Over many years, through personal experience and God's word, I have come to know certain qualities of God as well. God's style often baffles me; he moves at a slow pace, prefers rebels and prodigals, restrains his power, and speaks in whispers and silence. But I see a great deal of evidence of his long suffering, mercy, and desire to draw us rather than demand our love and attention.
"When in doubt, I focus on Jesus, the most unfiltered revelation of God's own self. I have learned to trust God, and when some tragedy or evil occurs that I cannot synthesize with the God I have come to know and love, then I look to other explanations."
And, I remember God's love, and I'll always remember the tic tacs.
"Mystery is not the absence of meaning, but the presence of more meaning than we can comprehend."
Autism is indeed a huge mystery. Ask any parent and they will usually shrug their shoulders. People say to me, "What does he want? What does that mean?" Obviously I'm his mom, I should know. But I don't. I try try try try try. Only God in heaven really knows how hard I've tried. I still don't know what he's thinking, what he's feeling, if he's hurting. Time has given me clues, but truly clues are all I have. It's always a mystery, always a risk that I'll make a mistake. Inevitably I make lots of them.
Last weekend Britton overslept. Now that seems like a statement that is not big deal, except, he doesn't sleep. By that I mean, he averages 4 hours a night. It's been that way for most of his life. Randy and I have been tired for 24 years. (tired smile)
I recently reread the Pilgrims Progress, and it really wasn't what I remembered. I had to laugh at how many times Pilgrim made a mess of things. He got into trouble, he gave up the fight, he flirted with suicide, he was depressed and sad and spent lots of time in despair. Most the books I read are all about living in Victory and how we can just get through this life on the mountain top. Well, somehow Pilgrim didn't spend much time there. I'd like to, but I realized the mountain top is small and the valleys long and deep. At a particularly low moment in Pilgrims journey, Mr. Hopeful says, "Be of good cheer, my brother, for I feel the bottom and it is sound." So there you go. How often
I need to be reminded in my life with autism that I'm at the bottom and this is as low as it goes.
So last weekend, we woke Britton up around 8:45 and went on to church. He was super easy going, and pliable. He just did whatever, no growls or complaints. We sat through the preaching and he didn't seem to want to leave. So, we decided we would wait through the second service and just see how long he would stay. It was such a rare treat for us. Our pastors wife came over and was visiting with us. Britton reached for his empty box of tic tacs and I explained to him he had eaten them all.
(We bring tic tacs and hand lotion, those two things help him sit a little longer.) Nothing was really said. But honestly, tic tacs make all the difference as to how long we get to stay in church. Our pastors wife asked if we knew there was a book store and a coffee shop, and places that might make church easier for us with Britton. It was so observant, kind and unusual. She offered to take me around and show me everything. I was shocked enough to just nod.
I don't mean to sound tainted, although I'm certain I am. I don't mean to sound cynical, although I'm sure I'm that too. I just mean that it's unusual for someone to even notice what might be needed by a family with special needs. Most churches are not comfortable with disabilities. I mean, seriously, who is?
(We bring tic tacs and hand lotion, those two things help him sit a little longer.) Nothing was really said. But honestly, tic tacs make all the difference as to how long we get to stay in church. Our pastors wife asked if we knew there was a book store and a coffee shop, and places that might make church easier for us with Britton. It was so observant, kind and unusual. She offered to take me around and show me everything. I was shocked enough to just nod.
I don't mean to sound tainted, although I'm certain I am. I don't mean to sound cynical, although I'm sure I'm that too. I just mean that it's unusual for someone to even notice what might be needed by a family with special needs. Most churches are not comfortable with disabilities. I mean, seriously, who is?
"Truth strikes us from behind, and in the dark"
Henry David Thoreau
Faith is not something as solid as I wish it were. It's not a skill I've mastered, or something that I hold in my hands. Faith has been in my life more of a gift from God. I need to pray for it every single day. I recite, "Faith is, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Over and over and over again.
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