God gave us the incredible task of parenting two children on the autism spectrum along with a deep desire to encourage others who share that calling. I believe there is a message of hope rooted in the promises of Scripture that He wants to share with us. Real hope. A lasting hope.

If you are like us, you often fall back on your hopes to help you through the daily struggle. Where we place our hope becomes the bedrock of our purpose in life. It’s what we strive for. What we rest in. What gets us through the day. I’m here to tell you that hope is not an abstract concept. It’s the person of Jesus Christ. Hope in anything or anyone else will ultimately leave us empty, disappointed, and wanting more.

He knows our deepest hurts, disappointments, and failed expectations as we live in the land of “Will they” and “Will I”. Will they ever talk, will they ever play organized sports, will they ever eat a vegetable, will they ever stop asking me the same thing over and over, will they ever be potty trained, will they ever get married, will they be able to have a career in the traditional sense, will they be able to live independently, will they have friends, will they _____________? Will I ever feel rested, will I ever have the patience I need, will I find people around me who can understand, will I find the right help, will I have the money to pay for the right help, will I be able to press on and keep going, will I _____________?

It all feels unpredictable and out of control at times which is tough! I like predictability. I like being in control. I like having answers rather than questions. But one thing I’m certain of is this: Raising kids with autism has exposed my own sin deeper than I ever could have expected. Impatience. Anger. Irritability. An ungrateful spirit. Fill in the blank…It’s ugly. Paul’s words in Romans 7:24 come to my mind, “O wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death”? Thankfully, Paul doesn’t end there. He answers his own question in verse 25, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord”.

So here is my reality and my hope summed up: I am nothing. Jesus Christ is everything. But since I am in Christ, I therefore have everything.

I can boast in nothing except for what He has done for me. When I place my hope in my own abilities and efforts, I inevitably find myself in despair. Hopeless. Guilt-ridden. Exhausted. Wondering what’s going on in my life. But I am beginning to understand that God wants to meet us right where we are in the middle of our chaotic mess and provide us hope for a bright future. A hope that rests in His plan and His purpose. And yes, autism is part of that plan and purpose for our lives, and He will use it as a sanctifying tool of His grace even when we don’t understand. But one day we will! One day we will stand before Him and give Him the glory for how He used our chaotic mess as part of His unwavering plan and purpose to accomplish His work in us.

Until then, let this journey of fun and insanity continue!