Oh, where do I start? This week (and it’s only Wednesday) has been mind boggling, heart exploding, and tear jerking. Beginning on Sunday and arriving at this moment has been a profoundly humbling experience. In some ways, I’m not sure I can take it all in, process it with the clarity it deserves. For now, I am simply feeling and reflecting.
Like we do on Sunday mornings, the kids and I head to church. We are blessed to be a part of a non-denominational congregation where hypocrisy and judgement are NEVER welcome. I have been in churches in the past where it seemed these things ruled in place of Christ’s love and acceptance. We are now where we are supposed to be and feel grateful for our church family and friends. It is a comfort to know, in absolution, that the people we worship with on Sunday mornings are exactly the same every other day of the week. Amen!
Ryan feels loved and understood in our church. He knows that everyone has self-educated themselves on autism and behavioral characteristics that accompany it. He is blessed with these people that will not hold the words “I hate Jesus!” against him when shouted in sensory frustration and social anxiety. Filled with remorse after he realizes the seriousness of his outburst, they whisper gently, “Jesus loves you, Ryan. He knows your heart and forgave you before you said a word.”
These beautiful people also posses the kindest hearts and will give to their brother- no questions asked. I experienced this first hand this week. While having a private conversation with a lady who sits in the pew behind us, I mentioned that we were struggling financially. I was only asking her for prayer, but as the Holy Spirit often does, this lady was moved by our story. She knows we relocated only for Ryan’s benefit, searching out the best and most prepared school district in which to place him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a smooth transition for him and I ultimately had to resign from a very lucrative position with an investment firm to devote 100% of my time to my little man. In the process of losing my much needed income, my husband and I were forced to file Chapter 13 bankruptcy. My husband’s income is barely enough to support the bi-weekly bankruptcy payments, much less our other expenses. While talking to Mrs. Williams, I confided that our meals are slight and gas prices are killing us. I did not reveal this information in hopes of pity or charity, just as one mother and wife leaning on another mother and wife for emotional support. To my amazement, Mrs. Williams, with her husband in tow, arrived at my front door with armfuls of groceries and the kindest words that I’ve ever received, “We just want you to have a good week.”
My Humanity 