I recently read an old, old article by Frederica Matthewes-Green. Here is a link to it: click here.  It got me thinking and praying on the promise of being known by God, even from before we were formed.

I tell volunteers to be prepared for a different kind of joy when they work with autism spectrum children.

The payoff for most of us in children or youth ministry is seeing these young people grow in the Lord -- seeing their enjoyment of programs, an increase in knowledge, a growing awareness of God's presence in the world.

Autistic children see and experience the world so differently from "neuro-typical" children that we may never understand, know or discern that any of our efforts have any "effect."

I think Frederica eloquently and beautifully expresses the joy of knowing deeply that we are ALL KNOWN TO GOD.

I AM the proud Mom of two children --one of whom has Asperger's Syndrome. Like most parents of children on the autism-spectrum, I see daily the confusing, dismaying and sometimes shockingly wonderful effects of the way my son's brain is wired. He is argumentative, sweet, loving, angry, clingy, aloof, anxious, impulsive -- all in all, a mass of contradictions.

And, too, I see daily the impact on his sister and myself -- anyone who has lived through a day-long lecture on all the characters in the Mother 3 Nintendo game, punctuated by meltdowns over loud noises, rough socks and a new mailman, knows the truth of the saying "Our Family has Autism."

I can laugh even at the aggravations and stress - laughing sometimes even through tears -- because my son is also a daily blessing.

He teaches me daily that God is present in the world, not because of some "breakthrough" that shows him in the light of what we expect from neuro-typical children; no, he teaches me that DIFFERENT really is DIFFERENT, and wonderful, and aggravating, and exalted.

For a first blog, I wanted to share this with you:

This is a poem written by my son two years ago. He was then in the 6th grade. It is his ode to Fall, a time he doesn't much enjoy--not because of the season itself, but because it brings school.

He is a brilliant child, with a high IQ, who nevertheless hates and fears school. He is exceedingly fearful and anxious about many things. He is also often unexpectedly and amazingly funny.

     Translated from the Original Oakese
     We... we...
     We are leaves..
     Please, please,please,
     We are leaves.
     Sitting in a tree, we were green.
     But now that we have come here now,
     This we will not allow.

     To fall, to die,
     To crunch, to cry,
     What has gone awry?

     We, we, we are leaves,
     Hoping for the best,
     waiting for a test,
     Expecting the worst,
     What will become of us now?

     Now,
     We will wait,
     Till next spring,
     If you can imagine such a thing.

     We are glad we are not turkeys.


Please feel free to use this space for your thoughts (and bragging) about our complex, mysterious, amazing children.

May God bless you with the unexpected.

Rev. Rebecca Black