God.

I learned at a very young age that love, more often than not, would only be given to me at a very steep price. A price that I have often felt was not worth paying. This lesson was spelled out to me as I sat in a church house, in the office of a church leader that held a position that I had spent my childhood admiring. I was in dire need of love and he explained to me that he, the church, and God would continue to love me as long as I could offer complete forgiveness and take responsibility for “my part” in a sexual attack against me and my innocence. I was 14 years old. I nodded my head, offered my repentance, and left the building an even more broken child than I was when I entered it.

Looking back, I see now that this misguided man must have truly wanted me to find peace and was probably offering the only advice that he believed would help me. I do not blame him, the church, my attacker, or anyone else for the 10 years that I spent struggling with my spirituality, morality, God, and love. These were just the acts of a man trying to make sense of the unnaturally evil acts of what he saw as a child of God. I am not angry anymore. I no longer feel hurt by these words of advice. It is complicated, like everything else in my story seems to be, and this is not the place or time to go into the details of that nightmare. This blog will not be about my childhood sexual abuse but today I realized that that was the moment that I decided that I had to face all of my most difficult challenges alone and that, maybe… just maybe, I didn’t even want to be “worthy” of God’s love or anyone else’s…. Maybe it would be easier to hate God instead.

Despite my relentless efforts to escape his love and all the expectations that I believed came along with it, God has found me in overwhelmingly powerful ways, on several different occasions since that day in the church house.

October 26, 2007.

I was 18 years old. God hit my like a train when Doctor Astle threw this gray infant on my chest. Everyone else faded into the background and all I could see was this boy, this miraculous little human that somehow my body created. Throughout the months of my pregnancy, I had heard the beating of his little heart through the machine at my doctor’s office but in that moment, it all became real. That heartbeat, the heart in that boy’s chest held my entire soul. God gave him to me because, whether I wanted to admit it or not, God loves me. He was gasping for air, clinging to life. He was everything, the most beautiful being I had ever laid eyes on. I had found it. I had found love, real unconditional love that NO ONE could take from me. I had never loved anything like I loved him and NO ONE ever loved me the way I already knew he did. It was a kind of love that not even fairytales could depict, a kind of love that could not even be dreamt of. After only a few short seconds, he was ripped from my arms and raced to the NICU and I was left broken without him. I knew that, from that moment on, I couldn’t live another second without him in my world. Our lives wouldn’t be easy. We would have to fight for everything good in our lives. I would stumble. I would struggle. I would fail. We would have to grow up together but we HAD to be together. He was MINE. He was God’s gift. He was God’s only way of saving me.

You should know, I guess, that this blog has been written in parts over the course of 3 weeks, so if it seems like I just threw paragraphs of random thoughts together, it is because I have. This blog somehow morphed from the story about my most recent "God encounter" into a final understanding of God's part in the most important events of my life. So many words have been written, deleted, and then re-written. These words have been scary to write, even scarier to allow myself to admit and feel. Perhaps this isn't a story to be shared with the world but in doing so, I feel that I am finally accepting and validating God’s presence, his role in the few right choices I’ve made, and finally allowing myself to move forward... Only in love.

Over the last few weeks, as I've allowed my heart to speak through a secret Word document on my laptop that I had told no one about, I've been terrified as I wondered how I was going to explain the years between Kelson's birth and the next time that God found me. Mothers are held to the highest standards and to openly admit on the World Wide Web that I failed my children over and over again is a terrifying and humbling idea.

They say that love is blind, but I tend to disagree. Real, pure, unconditional love is rewarded with clarity and peace. Bitterness, anger, fear, resentment, and hate on the other hand, come with complete and utter blindness.
In the bible it says, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.”

I've never been one to study scriptures but I find such solitude in this scripture because, although my mistakes are painful to admit, love prevails. Despite all of the wrong choices that I made, God still loved me. God continued to bless me and my children. I know that those who truly love me, will continue to love me. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am human. I am not perfect. I, obviously, have made mistakes. God is perfect. I am not supposed to be. I am only supposed to learn from my mistakes. It may take me longer than most but I am learning from them, every single day.

I can only hope that the first 4 years of Kelson’s life were the most difficult, that nothing will ever be as hard for him as those first few years were. He doesn’t remember. He sees me only as his mother. I never left him. To him, I was always there caring for him. The reality is, that I wasn’t. As I stated above, I do not believe that love is blind but I know, from experience that bitterness, anger, fear, resentment, and hate are. Fear controlled me for the first year of his life. Fear changed the person I was as I watched my infant child courageously undergo so many surgeries to correct the “defect” that I felt God had punished him with.

Fear quickly turned to anger, resentment, and hate over the second, third, and fourth year of his life. He saw his mommy. He knew that I would always be there for him but he didn’t understand the chaos that my hardened, angry heart was creating. There were so many priceless and precious moments that I missed in Kelson’s infancy and toddler years because, although I was there, I wasn’t present. My mind was consumed with anger and hurt instead. I will never get those moments back and perhaps that is my life’s greatest failure.

I wanted love. I wanted Kelson and I to be a part of a family. I was desperate for it but still, unwilling to comply with the inevitable conditions that love always seemed to come with. I spent years begging for love. I spent the same years fighting against love. When it all fell apart, I was always left alone to pick up the pieces. I numbed the pain of loneliness with distraction. Sometimes the distraction was substance abuse. Sometimes the distraction was focusing my energy on friendships with unhealthy people. I allowed myself to be abused by myself and the people who were supposed to love me. All in all, I spent so much of these years spiraling down into self-destruction. Don’t get me wrong here, I wanted to be a good mother. I just didn’t know how to be. I did try. I was simply surviving in a world that was too painful for my weak and immature heart. The one and only thing I was sure of was the love I had for my children. I always took care of them to best of my ability but I was always angry or hurt or numb. I wasn’t a mother that I would wish upon any child, especially my own. The details of my mistakes in love, life, and the pursuit of happiness are irrelevant. My children needed more. My children deserved better.

After a few years wasted, God found me again. I wasn’t looking for him, in fact I was still trying to escape his presence… but then, one day, out of the blue… there he was.

December 29th, 2011. 

Looking back, I don’t even recognize the girl that I was back then. I was an entirely different person than most of you know now. I was bitter. I was hateful. I was selfish. I lived carelessly and was only concerned with how I was going to escape my own emotions from day to day. I was out west of Enterprise, Utah, on an icy, old, familiar dirt road lying frozen, lifeless, empty, and scared on the tailgate of my truck when God showed up. It was the afternoon after the evening that my uncle took his own life. I was out there only to hide from my family as they mourned the loss of my uncle. I was far too selfish to be surrounded by the devastation. I couldn’t take it. I didn't deserve it... But God found me. God saved me.

God lit the dark sky with the most breathtaking sunset I had ever laid eyes on. God refilled my quickly draining heart. God brought a clarity that I didn’t know I was looking for. I had lost all sites of myself and my purpose… and then I was found. God guided me back to Utah and out of the self-destructing life that I was leading. God brought me to my husband. God gave me another son, and God gave me the strength to be the mother my children needed.

He was just in time. He must have known that I would be soon be faced with the heart-wrenching realization that my oldest child was different, therefore, that I HAD to be different. He must have known that the anger that I had held on to for so long would only further cloud my judgment and that not only would I continue to suffer, but my children would too. It has been difficult to admit… I spent years denying his very existence or only acknowledging his existence to use him as my emotional scape goat, to blame him for all the terrible things that had happened in my world. But here I am today, ready to admit that God gave me the strength to push forward… I didn’t deserve it. I suppose he knew my children did though. 

It has been two years since God saved me out on that dirt road. The last two years have been the most rewarding, love filled years of my entire life. I have God to thank for that. I have so much to be grateful for but somehow, I lost my way again. As many of you have read in previous blog posts, I have been consumed by resentment, anger, and absolute terror since the idea of autism was introduced into my life. It is safe to say that I have not been blessed with a “tough skin.” I think with my heart and find sentimental value, good and bad, in most things and situations. I over-process and over-think every decision that I make but am quick to say exactly what I am thinking and feeling at any given moment.

I have been so angry. I have felt like a wounded soldier in battle, left with no weapons to fend for myself or my autistic child. Anger and fear have taken over the last few months and I have entirely lost sight of what matters in life, of what is important.

January 24, 2014

Two weeks ago, I was at a breaking point. Anger exhausts the soul in a way that I hope no one I love ever experiences. I could feel myself losing complete control of my own emotions and knew that it was only a matter of time until I took this anger out on someone that I love. I knew I had to go.

I took Kelson and Kaylee to their dad’s house for the weekend. I packed up my car and my baby and I drove off into the sunset. And when I needed him most... God found me. God saved me again. I was on Interstate 15, reluctantly begging for his guidance, even though I knew I did not deserve it. God heard me. God saved me again.

I can’t save the world.

Once again, God brought absolute clarity in the midst of complete chaos. I have worked so hard for years to obtain an education so that later I can save people from themselves.

PAUSE! 

God told me to pause.

Never, in 4 years, have I considered leaving school, stopping my education for an undetermined amount of time… and just take care of my family. I’ve always had a plan. I took one semester off while I was pregnant but spent that semester obsessing over getting back to school… But God made it so clear to me that I HAD to temporarily stop pursuing my future career because I will never get this back. Never. Diplomas and degrees mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. This is my path. This is the life and these are the children that god gave me. This is NOT MY TIME, This is their childhood, the only one that they'll get. Mine was robbed from me after only 14 years but I will not let my pain take another second of their childhood away. College was where I found my self-worth. It was the only place that I had always felt that I knew what I was doing but not everything is about me. No piece of paper, no job, no amount of money is worth missing another moment. God wants me to be present in mind, body, and soul. So do my kids. They've missed me and I've missed so much of them.

Recently, I had the opportunity to spend some time with another autistic child. Looking into another child's eyes, basically a stranger, and falling so in love with him-therefore feeling all the pain and resentment I've been working to defeat all over again was my breaking point. I'm not broken. But I can't do this anymore.

PAUSE!

I have to stop pursuing the future and focus on the here and now. Too many things impact me emotionally but I do not have to go looking for pain. My heart is far too big to spend the rest of my life consumed by taking care of every suffering person I come across. I love too much. I've been blessed with that but it is also a curse. I can't spend the rest of my life angry. My job, my career, my life has to be about taking care of MY son, MY family, and MYSELF.

I can't save the world.

I'm tired of being angry. I’m tired of feeling hurt. I miss the simplicity of unconditional love.... And crayons scattered across my kitchen table. You all know how emotional this process has been for me. I've written about my anger. I've shared my heartache. I haven't written about how I've helped my child, because I haven't. I've put my own emotional process first and I've been failing him this entire school year. Kelson is so strong and so independent that he seems to take care of himself but he needs me. He needs his mom every single day, not because he is autistic but because he is a sweet, beautiful, and innocent boy that needs his mother to teach him how to love and be loved.

This is my blog about autism but autism isn't everything. God is everything. Kelson, Kaylee, Grant, and Eric are everything. They're mine… Given to me by God himself. Autism was introduced into my life by God. It may take a few more miracles but I will spend my life embracing God’s gifts rather than fighting his love. I can’t help but think back to the meeting in the church house 10 years ago. Maybe I’ll never understand why God allows terrible things to happen to good and innocent people but I like to believe that he spent my entire life preparing me to be Kelson’s mother. All of the terrible things that happened to me and all of the poor choices that I made led me here.

Aside from my children, God’s greatest blessing to me has been my husband. Last night, as I lay in his arms, I knew that I had to finish this blog so that I could finally let it all go. Eric has been my driving force through this autism thing. It has been a year since I posted my first blog on here and I can say, without a doubt that I would not have survived this year had it not been for my husband. He doesn’t understand autism any better than I do but he loves Kelson, Kaylee, Grant, and I more than I ever imagined possible. It isn’t fair that Kelson has autism but it is alright. Life isn’t fair but life is sweet. Kelson and I have finally found the family and the unconditional love that I spent our first years together searching for and as hard as it may be for me to admit (after years of denial), God is in our home. God is in every chuckle that barrels out of Kelson’s face. God is in Kaylee’s every twirl around the living room. God is in depths of Grant’s deep brown eyes. The unconditional, passionate love that Eric offers me daily is the little slice of heaven that God set aside for me.

Autism isn’t everything. Autism doesn’t define me or my child. I am not weak. I am not angry. I am not denial. I am the mother of 3 beautifully imperfect children. I am the mother of a child with autism spectrum disorder… and he is the best thing that ever happened to me. Our crazy, silly, chaotic, and beautifully uncomplicated life is my heaven. I no longer need to be distracted from reality and I have only God to thank for that. It is hard to know where we will end up but I am finally ready to put faith in God and allow him to guide us to where we belong.

Together we are already home.

It is time to let kids be kids and enjoy God's Glory.