In January of 2020, while the rest of the world was, quite literally, falling apart, our family was also struggling through some rocky “unprecedented times.” Our two year old had fewer than five spontaneous words and mostly repeated after you, word for word, slowly and wobbily. It felt impossible to know what he understood. It felt impossible to peek into his intricate, bright mind. Then began the hundreds of hours of meetings, documents, evaluations, government forms, doctors appointments, therapies, waitlists and the miles and miles of sticky blood-red tape… As well as frantic late night consultations with “Dr. Google.“

As hard as it is to admit, in the shadows of my heart, I was bargaining with God. “Yes, he has speech delays, but he will catch up. Life can still go back to normal.” Over time, more delayed and disordered development became clear, but I still found myself thinking. “Ok, well, lots of boys struggle with this and that. After he gets speech/occupational/physical therapy then he will catch up. Life can still go back to normal.” My research into “speech delays” eventually grew into researching “pervasive developmental delays” until finally, finally I knew God was asking me to just let go. I knew we couldn’t explain his developmental wobbles and quirks any other way, and through teary eyes I began typing “Autism Spectrum Disorder” into the search bar.

Through those seemingly endless months of too much paperwork and too many appointments and too much grief and too many hurdles with a two year old and an infant on my hip, we still found Grace. Tucked in between hundreds of forms, on porch swings and in sidewalk chalk, around every new corner and developmental milestone, Grace truly abounded all the more.

Over two full years have passed since then, and God has remained gracious. Our son is now four years old and has made tremendous progress. With the help of our treatment team, he has consistently blown my expectations for him right out of the water. To say I am proud of him simply wouldn’t be enough. Even still, in His kindness, God has not removed the struggles our family has faced with disability, but has given us something better.

In the barest parts of my heart, the most honest and tender parts, I have to say that I’ve always been afraid of anything of which I’m unfamiliar. The unknown has been deeply uncomfortable. I felt inadequate when I came face to face with someone who was different from me, especially someone with a disability. “What should I say? What should I do? What if I make it worse?” And I think, deep down, the fear was, “what if this was a part of my life?”

Thanks to this fallen world and its curses, I could have lived out all my days with a shallow understanding of God’s love. I could have lived out all my days with a weak understanding of what it means to be whole, of what it means to be made in the image of God – what it means to be human. I could have lived out all my days in fear of the unknown, the uncontrollable, of grief and suffering.

Instead, Love intervened and stayed the hand of justice. In my suffering, He was merciful. He was not content to allow my heart to stay shallow and weak, riddled with fear. He chose instead to bind it ever closer to His. Because of His great mercy, pity has given way to compassion. Fear has given way to wonder. Most importantly, sympathy has given way to love. And what a love it is. It’s bigger, deeper, and richer. More and more vibrant as time passes. More and more real — more and more alive.

We have been given a beautiful life. That is our portion. A knock-the-wind-out-of-you beauty. An “is-this-for-real?” beauty. Beautiful people, an entire community we never would have had otherwise. Beauty inextricably linked with pain. The most difficult part of my life, side by side with the best.

God is not in the business of taking away something good and giving us something worse. He is, however, in the business of taking away something good in order to give us something better. I’m not brave. Left to myself, I would have chosen a smoother path, for all of us. I would have chosen less pain and more ease. I would have chosen comfort. Instead of those good things, God gave us better things. Instead of ease, He has given us patience. Instead of comfort, He has given us peace. Instead of “normal,” He has given us beauty.

Ultimately, He has given us more of Himself. The Almighty, here. In the midst of burnt dinners, diagnoses, crumby countertops, therapies, doctor’s appointments, and bedtimes. Beauty, side by side with our real life. Grace.

About The Author: Madeline Wilkins

I’m a former mental health counselor turned mother turned writer. I live in Chapin, SC with my husband and our three children ages 4, 2, and 9 months. When I’m not wrangling kids, you can find me writing — usually in the margins of life; carpool lines, parking lots, or waiting on Chick-fil-A curbside pickup. Basically my minivan is my office. I launched my poetry/writing website, MKWpoems.com, this spring and just self published my first children’s book, Gus’ Special, Magical, Most Favorite Hat — a story I wrote in honor of our son who has Autism, also available on the website. Parenting a child with special needs has been the biggest privilege and wildest ride of my life. When I’m not in my super glam office, I love spending time with my family, friends, and serving our community through our local church. Thanks for reading!

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