Our story of autism: Treat the symptoms. Love the child.

We tried everything we could.  I spent hours on the computer searching for something, anything, that would undo our son’s autism.  We tried nutritional supplements.  We tried the newest and greatest therapies.  We looked for underlying health problems that could trigger autism.  And by the time he was five years old, I was exhausted, caught in a never-ending battle to find my little boy.


A friend from church dropped by the house and gave me a sheet a paper with a verse from Hebrews 4 on it.  “There remains…a rest for the people of God.”  Oh how I longed for this rest!  I was caught up in a whirlwind of special diets, drawing blood, therapists, and doctors visits.  Could I trade it all for rest?  But what about my son?

God spoke to me clearly, an instruction that would guide the next fourteen years as we parented our child with a disability:





Unexpected tears during a graveside chat

I stood by my friend’s grave on a warm winter day. I could hear the birds twittering in the trees and the faint roar of the cars from the nearby road. She has been gone for ten years and I visit annually to bring fresh flowers and to update her on the children that she did not see grow up. I shared with her how that little six year old girl is now a 16 year old woman with a boyfriend.   I told with her that the bright eight year old boy with autism was now 18. And as I shared with her the amazing news he was now driving and that he attends college on a scholarship, it was as if I untapped a well of emotion.  Unexpected tears burst forth.  I sobbed at her graveside as I shared how God had done the miraculous with that sweet autistic boy.

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