JOY: Are you killing it or filling it?

I just wrote this post for my church’s Marriage and Family blog. Thought there were some nuggets to share here too. For parents facing autism, it’s so important to rediscover and cultivate our joy.

When I was seven, I had a friend over to my house for the day. We were playing dolls or “Dukes of Hazzard” (or some such thing) when my mom called us up from the basement for lunch. Much to my surprise, there was my mom at the dining room table all decked out like a gum-chewing waitress with an apron on and a lunch ticket pad in hand. She said in a nasally voice, “Welcome to Diffy Daffy’s Diner. Come have a seat and I’ll grab you a menu.”

My mom had worked up a couple of homemade kid-friendly menus, and said we could each order whatever we liked. My friend and I were all giddy as we found two envelopes of Monopoly money at the table, and Mom recreated the full “goin’ out for lunch” experience for us two little ladies. Mom, or um “Diffy Daffy,” stayed in character for a good hour or so. It was a memory of unabashed joy that I will never forget.

My mom was a person who chose joy, and with that decision, God grew her creativity for cultivating joy in our home. As an adult, when I look back at that time in my family’s life, I realize that my mom would have had a whole lot of reasons to put joy on hiatus. No one would’ve blamed her. Money was extremely tight. She was taking care of elderly family members, and she had just lost her mom. With two teen boys and a stressed-out husband, there was always some sort of crisis or scrape that a family member was in.

Now a wife and mother myself, I am painfully aware of how important it is to cultivate joy for my home. I’m not great at this yet. Sure, when things are going well and I’m happy, I’m feeling joy-filled. But there are a lot of times when I have to fight for joy. After all, God says, “Be joyful always.” Really God? Always? Do you know what today was like?

In his book The 4:8 Principle (Philippians 4:8), Tommy Newberry says, “Joy is an outward sign of inward faith in the promises of God. It is a way of acting, and it is evidence of spiritual maturity. Joy is not a distant destination at which you arrive; rather, it’s a path you choose to travel each day.”

Three Ways to Choose Joy Today:

1. Train yourself to swap out bad thoughts with good thoughts. In Romans 12:2 we’re instructed to be changed within by a new way of thinking. Did you know that your conscious mind can hold only one thought at a time, positive or negative? The only way to eliminate a negative thought is to replace it with a positive, empowering thought. Having some key Scriptures to focus and meditate on will call out the best God has for you.
2. Pay attention to prime times for joy-killing or joy-filling. You can make or break your day—or the days of those in your house—by how you choose to approach these times: when you wake up, when you or your spouse come in from work, and when you go to bed. True joy has to be designed, discovered, developed and defended. It doesn’t just “happen.” Left to our own leanings, compounded by the stress of the day, we have to fight to value joy over funk.
3. Intentionally give away the very thing that you need. I was in a season when I was really feeling like I needed some encouragement but I was coming up thin. So, I went on Facebook and said it was “Encouragement Thursday—leave your prayer requests here and I will find a Scripture and prayer just for you.” God totally spoke to my heart with all of the promises I found for others. They were blessed and I was blessed. This also works by giving away little bits of your time, finances, serving, etc.

Give these things a try, and just see if the joy of the Lord doesn’t start to increase your strength for a much brighter day. Your whole family will thank you!

When Autism Moved In

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10

My son Josiah is my precious one. My pride and joy. He has my captivated my heart. I had no idea just how much I could love someone until he came along. I love his adorable face, his sweet disposition, and his spirit.

When I speak of of the ravages of autism, please do not misunderstand or confuse the depth of my unconditional love and acceptance of him and who he is. But that’s the thing, I’ve never felt like autism is supposed to be a part of him. Instead, it’s almost like autism is like a living, moving entity on its own–even apart from Josiah. For me, autism has become more like an unexpected, uninvited houseguest that has taken up residence in our home and disrupted everything about life by its mere presence.

Autism is the name of our uninvited guest. Honestly, he’s an extra body in the house and he has overstayed his welcome. He literally sucks the air out of the room sometimes.

He and Josiah seem to compete each other for attention. I hate how he mocks Josiah–”How come he can’t talk much yet? Why isn’t he potty trained? He doesn’t know how play right.”

We can’t even go many places together as a family anymore. No one invites us anyway. Someone always has to stay home with Autism. He can be unpredictable. We get scared about what he might do or what people might think of him. Autism doesn’t seem to care.

Autism doesn’t like the food I fix. I can work and work in the kitchen with the most expensive organic ingredients, gluten/dairy-free mixes, and he turns up his nose at it. Autism is ungrateful and I feel like I can’t please him.

Autism has had all of his mail indefinitely forwarded to our house–his books and literature and forms to fill out strewn about. I can’t even get away from it in the bathroom. Then I open my email, and I’m lambasted with so much stuff about him, reminding me that I just don’t have a normal life anymore.

I hate how Autism stays up as late as I do, and then he wakes me up in the morning–or sometimes in the middle of the night. In fact he sleeps right between me and my husband in our bed, us clinging to our own sides. He likes to sit down in the middle of us on the couch too, so we don’t hold hands like we used to. I miss my husband, and the comforts of “home.”

Every once in a while after we moms drop off our kids for therapy, we meet together at the coffee shop to have playdates with our Autisms. At least we know the other moms understand our frustrations, because they have an unwelcomed houseguest too, sometimes two of them.

Autism is such a spoiled brat. He demands fistfulls of our money, and plays on our fears that if we don’t give it to him for his vitamins, his treatments, his pricey tests, his B-12 shots, and a myriad of “flavor of the month” coctails that just might be “the ticket,” that he’ll take it out on Josiah. “Josiah might not get better, or regress,” he taunts, “so you have to keep spending all of this money on me.”

I think Autism wants me to accept him, or legally adopt him as my own son forever. But he won’t call me “mommy,” and he won’t let Josiah call me “mommy” either. In fact, he’s always putting his grubby hand over Josiah’s mouth so he can’t get much out at all. I hate that.

I still cheer for Josiah, though. Still he perseveres and conquers some things, even when Autism holds one of Josiah’s arms behind his back, or while he’s trying to trip Josiah. We erupt in praise when Josiah “does it” in spite of Autism, who has become his shadow.

Autism gets paid an annual salary 3-4 times more than I make, if you can believe it. We’ve told him that we will pay him any amount for severance if he will just GO away. He holds out.

The news comes on every so often talking about Autism. They say how he is so elusive. They don’t really know how to catch this fugitive. He’s in my house! Please someone come take him away. Quit making excuses. Don’t you know that he has come into my house and threatened to steal all of our futures? As if we owed him something.

Autism keeps sucking up the oxygen around here. He’s locked away the laughter. I hope for him to move out. I plead with him to leave. I demand it. I pray for God Almighty to boot him out. Why can’t anyone strong-arm him away?

I can’t accept Autism as one of my family members. My dear Josiah is my only son, and he deserves the best we can give HIM. Quit stealing his thunder! We have to spend way too much time on you, and I’m sick of it.

I keep dreaming for the day that someone knocks on the door. “Is Autism here?” they ask. I say, “No. He doesn’t live here anymore. Come on in, and I tell you how I got rid of him. And, he’ll never steal from us again.” 

Autism, you’ve overstayed your welcome.