Friday, October 12, 2007


Yeah, I was pretty pissed with God a few days ago. I didn't blame God for the test results - that wasn't it. I just really wondered where the hell God is during times like this. I have so many conflicting opinions myself in response to that question that I really don't know what I truly believe, if pressed to give a quick answer.

After the tears and anger subsided and I lay in bed trying to go to sleep, I found myself on Tuesday night saying to God "Just tell me what to do. Just tell me what to do. Just tell me what to do." I don't think I got an answer, but I did fall asleep and felt much more positive in the morning. I still don't know that I got a direct answer, but I had more energy to move forward.

And what's the alternative? Lie around, wallowing in self-pity and depression? Yeah, that will help T. And that's no way to live this life that I still believe is a gift.

When T was first diagnosed, many friends told us that God had chosen us for this beautiful child because we are wonderful parents and could handle it. That God has some purpose in this diagnosis that we don't understand now, but will be made known. There are times that I do believe this. I think this idea has some merit, and is, in an odd way, comforting when facing real challenges. Much of the time though, I think "If that's true, then kiss this autistic mommy's ass, God. Why would you do this purposefully not only to my beautiful son, but hundreds of thousands??? What kind of loving God does that shit?"

So, that theology doesn't always work for me. Most of the time, I believe that God is right here along side me, worried, scared, angry, and desperate for hope. God is also in my son's laugh and smile, and in those fleeting moments when I get perfect eye contact and interaction. Sometimes, there is God. God is also hoping for help, for improvement, for solutions.

There was one spooky time too, that may sound like Anne Lamott's transforming experience. I was at my wit's end with T - this was a while back - and I was at the end of my very long fuse and was about to lash out at T to get him to stop screaming. I knew I just couldn't do it to him, but I was beside myself with frustration and anger. So I imagined Jesus - yes, I mean Jesus - sitting there in the kitchen with me. He wasn't in his white glowing robes with the halo around his head - he was comfortably attired and sitting at my kitchen table. He didn't say anything, but looked at me, understanding. His calming presence spoke volumes. Needless to say, T didn't feel my wrath that day, nor has he ever.

And yes, through these tough times, beautiful people who are true blessings have come into our lives that never would have otherwise. Beautiful things happen - not only despite his autism, but because of it.

I also acknowledge that while we face huge challenges, no one is going to die over this. Our home hasn't been blown away by a tornado or hurricane. We have a loving and incredibly supportive family. We have more than enough food to eat. I do manage to keep things in perspective about 98% of the time.

So, I will still believe in God, and will still be in a relationship with God. I may get pretty angry with Him (sorry, still liking the image of God as man), but I figure even the psalmists got pretty mad with Him and yelled and questioned, so darn it, I can too. I think God can take it. He better.

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