He brings restoration

On Sunday, there was some miscommunication and we took our boys to church thinking there would be childcare at the "younger folks" service. Well, needless to say, the hallway was dark and quiet at 7:05pm- things did not look good. We metaphorically pulled our pants up and took them into the service. Being only 5 and 3 years of age and used to going to Sunday School, they did much better than we thought. Quiet during the announcements and even through most of the music. Luke, being 3, got bored rather quickly. But Jacob surprised us. He was attentive. He tried to read the words on the screen. He even sang along with one of the songs. It was a song based on Psalm 30:11, "You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness."
Our autism journey has been messy. It's been painful. It is confusing and overwhelming at times. But all of that makes the joy so much sweeter. To stand by my son, his arm around me, and hear his sweet voice singing about God turning our sadness into joy- that makes it all worth it. Truly it does!
"You take my mourning and turn it into dancing, you take my weeping and turn it into laughing, you take my mourning and turn it into dancing, you take my sadness and turn it into joy. You bring restoration, You bring restoration, You bring restoration to my soul." It is in these moments, that I am firmly convinced that God's plan for us is good, despite it being sometimes hard and painful. God can use it ALL for good.

Mourning...

A few months ago, I went through a period of mourning... again. I came to the conclusion...again, that my child will never be "typical." Typical is a word that parents of autistic children use to refer to normally development kids who process information in the typical manner. I had one of those 'It's not going to get me anywhere' daydreams where I thought about how Jacob would be if he wasn't in the spectrum. This type of thinking is so futile and silly. My child is what he is, and trying to figure out the 'what could have beens' doesn't help our situation one iota. All of this came crashing back to me tonight when I read this quote by a doctor talking to the parent of a newly diagnosed child.

"MOURN THE LOSS OF THE CHILD YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE, SO YOU CAN ACCEPT THE CHILD YOU DO HAVE."

I seem to go through these mourning periods over and over. I come to grips with life as we know it and the unforseeable future, tell God that I know He has a greater plan than I can see and move on. But every once in a while, it sneaks up on me. 'It' being the normal child. I can get envious of my friends with unaffected children. "Do they appreciate what they have?" I ask myself. "No," is my resentful response. "They think their child is difficult, but they don't know what difficult is." Their child doesn't get stared at for being different. They think their child's tantrums are hard to handle, but they haven't ever walked on egg shells around their own toddler. Anger, sadness and jealousy surge to the surface in me. The part of me that wants it "easy."

Jacob isn't easy, but God, I love him so much. There is a fierceness in me when it comes to my child and helping him. I can't imagine my life without him in it. I can't imagine our family without his presence, so I continue to mourn the boy that I didn't have and celebrate the boy I was given to love. I keep praying that God shows me how to love him the way he needs to be loved and that I can accept him, challenges and all.