It feels like our son has died.

(My child has Autism Specrum Disorder? Devotional #1)

Psalm 23:4  Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for your rod and your staff, they comfort me.   

The son we had grown to know and love seemed to disappear. He was no longer just the bright boy who refused to use his words, the boy who had amazing hearing and a memory that wouldn’t quit and who was just too sage to speak his mind.

He was no longer just the boy with the infectious laugh that everyone couldn’t help but giggle with, even when they had no idea what was funny. Gone was the guy who just loved to shoot baskets, throw rocks into the river and roll bocce balls for hours at a time.

Our son seemed dead. Instead, we were given a boy we hardly knew. One that could talk but wouldn’t, but not just because he was being sage or stubborn, but because it was actually difficult for him. A boy who didn’t throw rocks or roll bocce balls on end just because he enjoyed it, but because he had a disability that made it difficult for him to stop and change what he was doing.

Instead of seeing our son as quirky, but whole, I now saw how broken he was. Thank goodness for my husband, who is more of a rose-colored-glasses, glass-half-full sort. I think he was able to keep a better perspective on things than I. My heart was truly broken.

Though I had suspected this reality since he was six-months old, having to come face-to-face with the fact that I would never be the mother of a “normal” son, required a lot of letting go.

The only thing that got me through this difficult time was Psalm 23. As I walked through the house I could see the deep canyons walls on either side of me. The path I was on was dark, with no sign of the valley ending. Having the promise, that God would comfort me brought me through to the other side, and it will bring you through, too.

Advertisements