when i found out he's autistic

I sat there...listening to the doctor who was evaluating him, my oldest boy. I hear the words, "he's autistic".

Surprised, the doctor said, "you didn't even react when I said that".

Really? Because inside, I reacted. I reacted on so many levels.

Suddenly, there's clarity...

why he becomes obsessed with one thing

why he prefers to play alone

why he has constant involuntary muscle movements

why he has inappropriate responses during conversation

why he calls me every couple of seconds

why he can't differentiate dreams from reality

why he repeats the same phrase or question over and over and over again

why he mimics behaviors and situations, taking them over as his own

why he didn't respond to pain after his surgery

why he does well with rote memorization but has deep difficulty with independent thinking

why he doesn't understand boundaries with personal space when meeting a stranger

why he is socially awkward with peers

It all makes sense. It brings such clarity for what we've been experiencing.

His constant need for structure, his deep unwinding if it doesn't go exactly as planned.

And yet?

Clarity doesn't dissipate the sadness I feel.

This boy, with his new diagnosis, adding to his difficult past. I can't put a band-aid on either. I can't take it on for him.

I have to take them to the feet of Jesus, where I know disabilities and difficult paths don't define capabilities or futures.

He knows him.

He loves him.

He carries him.

He sustains him.

He covers him.

He provides for him.

He, who holds him in His hand.

Isn't this where, regardless of the circumstances, I should place them all anyway?

But it's so easy to take on worries as a mommy. It's so easy to want to fix it all. It's so easy to constantly give and expect hurts to heal with your own hand. Yet that's never been His plan.

Is that what you want me to know from this, Lord?

These children You've given...they all belong to You? This fostering, the reminder that I'm not ever promised tomorrow with them. How before, with my biological, I lived with that false promise, the unspoken one, that says I have tomorrow. But You never promised that. They all belong to You. The difficult days...they belong to You. Where it can feel lonely, because few understand...it rests secure in Your grasp. The juggling medical needs, emotional needs, physical needs between 4 littles...it's safely sitting with You. The future for these littles...for our family...it's all unfolding in Your tender, strong, unchanging hand. How you offer grace abundant in only showing enough light for today...it's the safety and protection of Your hold.

And, while it all feels so odd, because it's all outside of my plan, I am so thankful I'm here, resting it all in Your control.