Life with my autistic girl is teaching me to look for God in the moments.
To find strength when you’ve come to the end of yourself. To find laughter when you want to weep. To find love – somehow more love – when your heart is breaking. To find a song of gratitude when bitter discontent almost silenced you.
Some days, though, seem too hard, the distance too great. And I can’t sense Him near. Can’t see any good. Honestly, I just feel… duped.
But so much of the journey with a disability is marked by repetition. And the not knowing for sure when things will ever change… if we’ll get a vocal response, if he’ll take that first step, if she’ll manage in the bathroom on her own one day. By heart, with heart, we do what we do… as we’ve done every day.
So then. When I can’t feel Him, I’ll hold my hands out anyway. When He seems silent, I’ll cry out just the same, trusting He hears. And when I don’t see, I will keep searching, digging, learning what it really means to be faithful.