What I Learned About Autism from Abraham

The first time I heard the word "autism" applied to my son was about two years ago.  I was in the pediatrician's office and I remember the doctor telling me I should "adjust my expectations" for him.  I don't remember much after that, except that I felt my knees give out and all the blood rush from my face.  I went to sit down with my then two year old in my arms and nearly missed the chair.  When I regained myself and looked up at the doctor, I saw pity on his face.  Pity.

I can still see his face in my mind's I as I share this.  Thoughts of it make me feel ill and angry at the same time.  At that point, I didn't know much about autism, but I remember thinking it was a life sentence.

I'd like to say I leapt to my feet and sprung into action to recover my child immediately after hearing this.  I didn't.  I was in denial, and partly blinded by my experience as a mom to my four neurotypical kids.  They all developed differently and at their own pace, and I told myself Dylan would too.  I should've known better.

As a family we had just moved to Texas from Michigan, leaving behind all friends and family and everything familiar for a chance at a better life.  It was hard.  The first time I set foot in Texas was behind a moving van full of my belongings and I was still a little shell-shocked from it all.  When the diagnosis came during this time, I was already functioning on autopilot.  And I hesitated for too long.  I deeply regret this, and it is something I will always have to live with.

What I did do was make a beeline for the bookstore to purchase no less than 6 books on the subject of autism.  I knew right away that the first change we had to make was to his diet.  We began the GFCF soy free organic diet and started him on a strict supplement schedule.  We also got in contact with a local early intervention program and invited them into our home once a week.  As a result, we saw eye contact and smiles return.  It was a small measure of success and I am happy for it.  Trouble is, I sort of camped out on this success.  Dug in, hung up pictures and decided to stay there and call it good.  At that point, I didn't push.

I can see now that one of the things that hindered me in the beginning was trying to learn it all right away.  Autism has been described as one of the most complex neurobiological conditions that exists...and me with my two years of nursing training thought I could master the thing in a few days.  The complexity of his condition coupled with the massive amount of information about it made me overwhelmed to the point were I just stopped reading for awhile.  I cry as I type this because I know that I let him down.  I know that his potential may forever be hindered by my hesitation.  I had the books and the resources, but I allowed my fear to overtake me for a season.

When he turned three and started preschool, I finally woke up.  I found an amazing ABA therapist and implemented a home program for him.  Today, he is speaking and laughing and engaging with his environment.  My hopes are high.  Seeing his progress motivates us daily to continue working hard for him.  I only wish we had started sooner.

As I look back, I think the thing I was lacking in the beginning was a certainty that I could successfully maneuver this child through the obstacles and challenges of autism.  I forgot - or maybe I never really understood - that God never gives us a task without also fully equipping us to accomplish it.  It doesn't always seem like we have what it takes, because He doesn't always give us the wisdom in advance.  But little by little, as challenges present themselves, I've found that I have a sort of inner compass to guide me.  All I need to do is listen to it.  If I had embraced this truth and allowed myself time to slowly digest all the information (maybe reading 1 chapter a day) we would have certainly had earlier successes.  Instead, overwhelmed at the task of learning it all, I gave up completely for a time.  I camped out on the biomedical interventions we had taken and I called it good.

I'm reminded of a lesson from the life of Abraham. In Genesis 12:1, God calls on Abram to embark on a journey:

“Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you"

I think about the implications of this command.  How vague it was.  How fearful Abram must've been in leaving his home at age 75 and going...where, exactly?!?

"Go...to the land that I will show you"
"I will show you"

Abram didn't know where he was going, how long it would take, or any details at all about the journey. The only thing he knew was what he needed to know in that moment. Go...and I will show you.

This is how it works usually. Or at least this is how it has always worked for me. I don't know what the future will look like as the mom of an autistic elementary age or high school age or college age child. What I do know is what I need to know in this moment. For this child. At this age. When tomorrow comes, I must trust that God will provide me with the wisdom I need for tomorrow.

I don't particularly like that, control freak that I am.  I'd really rather know what the finish line looks like, where it is and how many bumps I'll encounter along the way.  I'd like a GPS if possible.  A Google Map complete with street photos of the whole journey.  But that's not God's way.  He wants His children to seek Him and trust in Him...and only through strong faith can we do that.  So faith is what I have.  Faith, and the command to go.

For me, the lesson from Abraham is a lesson I wish I had learned two years ago. Just go.  Start walking.  Rather than allowing fear, doubt or uncertainty to stop us in our tracks, we must simply do what we need to do today so at least we are moving forward.  Don't wait to begin until we know 100% what our destination looks like.

And tomorrow, get up and do it again.
Go.  Walk.

And trust that as we do our best, God is there, equipping us with the tools we need for today.  And that He will do it again tomorrow.