Mt Everest Becomes a Mole Hill

Last night at bible study, my life line to sanity; we were discussing prayer. Not just praying itself but how we pray and what we pray for. When JR was younger and newly diagnosed my prayers, when I prayed, which wasn’t often; was for his recovery. When I didn’t get what I wanted I simplified my prayers so JR would talk. I didn’t think that was unreachable. But alas God does his “thing” in his time not ours. Persistence  and patience is something most of us humans lack. We pray and pray and when we don’t get our prayers answered to our satisfaction we either give up totally or we move on to another important issue.

My prayer life up until about 5 years ago was relatively non-existent and when I did it was always for the same thing. I didn’t pray because I was pissed at God for doing this to my family and/or allowing this to be done to my son. After we lost three members of our family in a short period of time we were crippled emotionally and functioning strictly on auto pilot. Rodney suffered greatly losing his brother, grandmother and step dad and as God’s intervention would direct him; a co-worker was the son of a man who had a bible study group. This friend recommended to Rodney and five years later here we are. Healing, accepting, forgiving and praying.

I felt the Holy Spirit twice in my life now. Both times were my pleading with God to give me some peace in my life. Autism was still bad at this point and I was suffering ill effects because of the anger I felt (and still do sometimes) and rage I felt toward those who were/are really responsible for what happened to JR. One of those experiences occurred in church during communion. Our church doesn’t do communion every Sunday and I wanted to participate. Our pastor said in order to do so we must forgive those who transgressed against us. THAT is a very tall order for me personally and it is one I still struggle with to this day. However I prayed not so much for the ability to forgive but for personal peace in my struggle to forgive. I was in tears, racked with grief and all of a sudden I felt a lifting of a great weight. A peace came over me like a tidal wave and I saw the light in a very literal sense. I was on my way to recovery from the rage.

The second instance occurred when I prayed for God’s assistance in helping my son. That was the difference I came to realize some time later. Before I prayed for JR’s recovery. This time I prayed for help in recovering him. God answered that prayer and continues to answer it everyday as JR improves. God has guided me in obtaining information, in putting people with more knowledge on our path, in keeping me strong and devoted to the goal. God has kept me focused on the brass ring and most importantly he has kept my hope alive.

Hope is not an easy thing to keep and I have come to realize something else; hope is another word for faith. My faith in my son and my family is strong. It waivers occasionally but I think it does for us all. The climb up Mt. Everest hasn’t been an easy one. But in order to pulverize the mountain one must be at its peak and start stomping. Autism is our personal Mt. Everest and all though it isn’t the size of mole hill, yet it is fast becoming one.

I thank God every day for his aide, patience and love. He’s carried me along way and with great resistance on my part at times but he’s never dropped me or my family. Faith like hope is a remarkable thing, fragile and strong at the same time. But for me it helps sustain me on a daily basis.