Monday, December 8, 2014

Beautiful Boy Part II.


It's been an adjustment, to say the least.  Meetings, talks with family and some nights of restless sleep.  I think the hardest thing, to be complety honest is the label that comes with Autism.  The night my wife told me that the school psychologist called, I called my mom.  Sometimes, all I need to hear is her voice.  Calming, reassuring me that it would all be ok.  That Elijah was perfect and it was all in a sovereign God's will for him to be Autistic.  You may think, "how can she say that?", and I'll get to that.  As I told her what the school psychologist had said, I began to sob.  My heart was broken for my little boy.  My beautiful Elijah.  "I know baby.", she said.  "I know it's hard..."

I think God has our best intentions at the very root of what He allows to happen to his people.  The very overly-used-in-most-graduations-verse, Jeremiah 29:11, says, "I know the plans I have for you...plans to prosper you and not to harm you."  But, what if harm is good for us?  What if what looks like God is killing us is actually him saving our lives?  What if like Hosea said, "the breaking of bones" is the best thing at that time?  Sounds like God is mean and that's not what Joel Osteen would preach or write about.

As I sat on the other end of the line with my mom that night and wept, speechless to say the least, I remember her saying, "this is good."  Good?  My son being disabled is good?  She said it with no hesitation in her voice.  You see, my mom knows that Romans 8 says, "and we KNOW that ALL things work together for GOOD...".  All things.  So yes, the good, the bad and my son's autism.  Suffering and the worst news possible should set you free.  If it is not followed by the best news imaginable, then it's only news.  I could sit and wallow and fear the worst for Elijah, but...the best news is that God has good news for me.  

The most liberating part of this whole story with Elijah is me dealing with the label of him being disabled.  We've had some hard days and we've had some days where him and I just talk.  The truth is, I am slave to a facade I want people to see.  I wear a mask of always being fine, when in reality, my heart is broken for my baby boy.  That's freeing, though.  I don't have to hide who I want him to be anymore or try to suppress the fact that something was different about him.  I'm free of faking it for him.  We had to come out and tell everyone the truth and I've come to realize that I was locked in a cage that was open the whole time.  Opened by the best news imaginable.  

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