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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Dear Autism

Dear Autism,

I always say that we "have autism" but that you "don't have us."

Tonight, I think you forgot about that.

You know, I'm usually the epitome of optimism.  I can rattle off a list of everything that is RIGHT for every single whammy you toss our way.

Tonight I don't feel like cheerleading or wearing autism blue or anything else, though.

Tonight, I'm just plain mad.  You've crossed the wrong Mama this evening.

And you know what? I'm giving myself permission to be there for a moment.

Because in the "mad" sometimes, we find clarity and focus.

See, autism, you've hurt the heart of someone I love.

You've awoken one of the most precious pieces of my life repeatedly, as if to just torment him tonight.

You've stepped on sacred ground...

and nothing about it is okay.

Not. One. Thing.

We have our ways of avoiding you, you know.  We've found so much pleasure in outsmarting you.  We're really good at it these days, too.

Tonight you had already dug your claws in deep, though.

I guess you thought that meant a W.

Well, it did signify a win... but it wasn't yours to claim.

Oh, but no.  YOU. DON'T. WIN.

WE win.

We win every time we get up and still go to school the next day.

We win every time we collapse into "huggles" after the mother of all sensory meltdowns.

We win every time we talk through it and see the autism without blaming the little body that's housing it.

We win every time we stop looking around to see what the world sees and instead see the eyes in the middle of the moment.  There are eyes whispering for help in the middle of a body that is screaming.

We win every time we sleep in front of a doorway to keep our children safely sleeping inside the house.

We win every time we're too wound up from a night gone south to go to bed, so we blog about awareness instead.

We are victorious in the middle of the tough moments.  We are more than conquerors in the midst of the mess.  We know the Healer.

More than that, though?  That Healer knows us... right down to the hairs on our heads.

When we're too tired to even utter His name, He has ours on His lips... speaking healing, love, hope, and health.  He prays over our babies.  He blesses our homes.  He whispers sweet blessings over every aspect of our lives.

He knows our hearts.  He knows our dreams.  He knows the potential of our families.

He knows the calling that He has placed on the life of this child that you torment relentlessly.

So for every drop of pain you send this way, know that the Creator of the Universe sees you.

And He doesn't fight losing battles.  He's already won.

He's not even panicked by you, and I tend to follow His lead.

Welcome to a loss, autism.  YOU lose.

Because my Instruction Booklet says that EVERY knee shall bow.  EVERY tongue confess.  Even you, autism.  You're powerless to my Jesus.  Just a reminder.

You don't even have the power to keep me angry, autism.

My formula for joy?  Romans 8:28 and Jeremiah 29:11.  He has a plan.  The plan is for good and not harm.  Every ounce of it will be used for my good and His glory.

My earthly eyes saw a mess tonight, but my Jesus sees us as we truly are.  I'm going to relax into His view.

ChristieAitken@gmail.com, 2015
http://www.SingleMomCentral.net Twitter: @ChristieAitken
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