Relax — this is not a post espousing Christine doctrines; Yoga Mother is not the type to do that. This is about a more personal kind of crucifixion.

This past weekend was  a very interesting one for our family. We rent out the small cottage on our property as a vacation rental. Usually people come, enjoy whatever they’re here for, and go. Sometimes we meet them and exchange a few words; often we don’t.

This time it was completely different. A man named Eban got lost finding our place, gave up, and then crashed his car heading somewhere else. Blue Eyes picked him up to bring him here and, from that moment on, he was part of our lives. A man in his late sixties, he needed to be driven here and there; he needed emotional support dealing with the car; he came over for meals.

During all this, we talked. He is a psychotherapist and had some really valuable things to say about the autism in our lives.

crucifixion-altarpiece-detail.jpg!BlogIt is a crucifixion, he said: The ego is getting crucified. What is the ego? I’ve heard it defined as the part of us that says, “Yeah, but.”

Yeah, but I didn’t sign up for autism.
Yeah, but everyone else has it so much easier.
Yeah, but I don’t WANT it to be this way.
Yeah, but…(What’s yours?)

Terese and I took our boys to the playground yesterday. Her autistic son scared a little boy by going down the slide right after him, basically pushing him down. His mom rushed over, picked up her son to hug and comfort him, and then took her kids to the lower playground to get away from us. Eventually we went there too, and again Terese’s boy disturbed the younger one. The mom threw Teresa a really dirty look, gathered her kids, and left.

And so another nail got hammered through Terese’s hand. Another sword punctured her side.

Yeah, but I’m a good mother. It’s not my fault my kid acts like that. Why are people so judgmental?

Eban says that it’s all about vulnerability. Look at Jesus, he said: A great master with all the powers in the world, he nonetheless made himself completely vulnerable.

“Yeah, but look where that got him,” I answered (notice my yeah, but).

“Ah, and look what happened after that!” he responded.

The resurrection.

It hurts, this thing called autism. This man who magically appeared in our lives says to let it hurt; to be vulnerable enough to open to the pain. In this way, he says, we can be molded. In the suffering, he says, there is grace. Find the grace.

I don’t claim that autism has the monopoly on crucifixions. Most of us have the so-called grace of something that crucifies our egos! Mine happens to be autism.

And so I wish us vulnerability. I wish us trust that God loves us so much, and knows us so dearly, that S/He gave us our particular crucifixion. I wish us freedom from false identifications (another definition of the ego: The soul identified with the body/mind) so that we resurrect in our full glory as unlimited beings, as children of the light. May we truly know that we are spiritual beings having a human experience.

May we open in surrender.

Into Thy hands, oh Lord, do I commend my spirit.

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