For years our son had tantrums and fears. Fears over sleeping, going to preschool, soccer practice, and just about any time he has to leave my side. We had excuses for his behavior, mainly the well known, “he is just 4, he will grow out of it.” Unfortunately he did not “grow out of” this phase and it instead led to escalated fears and panic attacks. 

We live in a society that has attached shame to certain labels. We believe it only happens to “other” people and we often shut out those who are dealing with the daily struggle. There is a stigma attached to therapy and seeking professional help. This leaves the person/family to deal with it alone. 

I never thought this would be our reality. 

I wish there was an instructional manual on how to do this. My soul wants to normalize the therapies and the label. Momma Bear comes out of me, just wanting my child to be protected from the harsh words of friends whose parents tell them my son is different. We are constantly waging the battle of who needs to know, as we don’t want him treated differently, but the reality is if we are not around and he is triggered, they need to understand. 

Talking, or even writing, about this is difficult because I don’t know how to put into words what our life has looked like in a way that you can grasp it, nor do I want to put him in a box of expectations and I want him to keep some of his privacy. I also know that some of you are reading this because you too live in a world like mine, and we need each other. 

Even a year and a half after his diagnosis, I do not feel like an “expert” but I can tell you what has reduced the attacks in length and in occurrences. The first is to seek help. Play therapy has been so incredibly helpful for him. It is a safe place for him to work through all the emotions and feelings he has such a hard time articulating. It has also been incredibly helpful for our marriage. Our therapist also meets with my husband and I from time to time to discuss our son and what we are doing at home. This helps us to understand where each other is coming from. As one can imagine, I coddle too much and he pushes too hard. She has helped us to balance each other. 

As an avid reader, I research and implement strategies. This is what I would recommend to any parent. Although our brains may not operate the same way, we can begin to understand where they are coming from and then teach them about the brain. When they understand why they feel a certain way or strategies to halt the trigger you are empowering them. 

The final advice is have patience and practice it! With the help of therapy and education, this gets easier, but it never gets easy. 

I never thought bike riding would be so hard. Not just learning to ride one, that was a doozy, but even switching to a different bike. When he grew out of his first two wheel bike we got him a new one, and that too triggered the fear to ride all over again. We have learned there is a fine line when it comes to pushing him, so we push and practice with a whole lot of patience.

We have to have patience with him and each other. When my husband and I get worked up (even with each other), you may as well toss in the towel because he can’t recover if we are not calm.

I never thought the most magical place on earth could bring anxiety. Disney noises and crowds for many are the understood expectation, but for others all the sensory is overwhelming. We certainly didn’t think the line for the very first ride on our first day would begin to trigger him. 

Our family has to practice patience. As a family we have to try and be understanding and remind him he is so loved. Specifically times like these, the siblings work to distract with fidgets and other calming devices after the initial trigger is subdued.

I never thought I would be speaking to someone in the medical field about next steps in the least invasive way possible when trying to determine whether or not my son had appendicitis. After sitting in a completely empty Urgent Care for over an hour, one can say I was not too appreciative when met with a “it will only be a few minutes of his life” out of the mouth of the professional. I wanted to scream. Thankfully with a deep breath I looked her straight in the eye and said, “in our reality these moments won’t last for just a few minutes.” I am sure she didn’t understand, as I am sure you may not either and I hope you never have to. Note: the ER was a completely different story and was fantastic at keeping him calm. 

I have to have patience with medical staff that doesn’t “get it.” To keep a level of calm, I can’t get worked up over someone who will not be continuing the treatment, but instead use my energy to focus on what I can do.

We keep on rolling. These moments help us to practice patience. Patience with our son, patience with each other, and patience with the world around us.

Some days it feels overwhelming. Some days it feels too big. 

There is an old saying, “don’t pray for patience because then God will help you practice your patience by testing it.” 

James 1:2-4 NIV Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

This is where this blog was going to end with a discussion of James, until I went to church this past weekend where the worship and the sermon was on miracles. Pastor Mike asked, “Do I accept that I can receive a miracle? Do I believe that healing is available to me?”

“Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.

One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath,”

‭‭John‬ ‭5:1-3, 5-9‬ ‭NIV‬‬

After looking down to see my son with his hands up in worship and then hearing this scripture, I came to the realization that I have been the invalid. I am doing exactly what I know to do, seek help, and follow the steps, but I haven’t asked for or believed in a miracle. I haven’t asked others to pray (help me get in the waters) and I certainly haven’t gone to the Source. 

Why haven’t I prayed for the healing of my son? 

The answer is deep rooted, I am afraid. You see the last time I was in desperation and asked for supernatural healing for my first son, the answer was “no.” The result of the no broke me. If the answer is again “no”, I am not sure I can recover this time. 

So I am asking for you to be the friend that helps me get in the pool when the water is stirred. I am asking you to come alongside me in praying for a miracle for my son. I need to lean on your faith right now as I ask one of the hardest questions I’ve had to ask. 

Lord, I need a miracle. Will you heal my son?