When I felt I was at my absolute breaking point, God whispered one word that broke the silence and banished the anxiety and grief that had gripped my heart for so long. Then God revealed area after area of my life that I needed to embrace. I I was convicted, but encouraged, and I knew I was loved by the God of the universe.
Nothing I did as a mom seemed to help my son. None of the therapies; none of the love; none of the counseling—personal, marital, and family. Nothing could “fix” our son. But daily, as I sat and whispered Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus, the Lord showed up. He let me know that I was more than Joel’s mom, Matt and Justin’s mom, Wally’s wife. I belonged to God. I was rooted and grounded in God. My life had purpose. My true self began emerging.
When my son was diagnosed with autism more than thirty years ago, I put on my yellow rescue vest, and rarely take it off. I’ve discovered that my work as rescuer has bled over into the rest of my life. I need to let go of the myth that I have the power to rescue or change anyone but myself. God is inviting me to take off the yellow rescue vest and let God be God!