Blue Eyes talks about a period in his life where his neck would go into terrible spasms — so badly that it would make him lose consciousness. He went to the hospital, where they ran him through a myriad of tests, but they couldn’t find anything wrong. The doctor finally told him that it was, simply, stress. Massive stress.

“Stress?” Blue Eyes looked at the doctor in surprise. “I’m not under any stress!”

But as he went home he started to look at his life. A very sensitive young man, Blue Eyes was far from home, working with a really rough crowd of guys. He didn’t fit in and he couldn’t fit in, but he felt stuck in the situation. Yes, he had to admit to himself, he was stressed. Massively stressed.

This is how I felt after my first appointment with Sheri, the therapist, last week. “Stressed? But I’m not under any stress!”

With Sheri’s guidance, I looked at my life. If I’m not with Joseph, I’m almost always doing something “useful.” I work or I go to meditation or I attend a spiritually-oriented class. Even my weekly date nights with Blue Eyes consist of going to meditation. Which is great, but there’s got to be a balance there somewhere. Or so I’m told.

With Sheri’s encouragement — really, almost at her insistence — I spoke with Blue Eyes about an upcoming “date” to go to a spiritual class. Our amazing respite worker, Karen, agreed to come earlier than planned, I picked up Blue Eyes at his work, and we spent a whole afternoon and evening at the river. Our area has the MOST beautiful river, so clean and healing and nurturing. We swam and we napped and we read and we talked. As the sun began to set we hiked out, feeling alive and grateful and fed.

I have been seeing Joseph as a problem, a nuisance. The problem here, I believe, is that I haven’t had a big enough vision about my child. After all, I didn’t have a kid in order for him to win popularity contests or get straight A’s. I had a kid, and I think God gave me this kid, in order to for him to go out and make a positive difference in this world.

Kahlil Gibran says:

imagesYou are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

* * *

My job: To let God bend me with gladness. To shoot the arrow straight, swift and far. Straight to God’s purpose, whatever that may be. Probably something in “the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams,” (Kahlil Gibran).

Mom and JosephJoseph’s future is not even my business. My business is to focus on bending (and part of the bending, happily, seems to be having more fun!) and becoming a straight-shooter. My dear little arrow is already fearfully and wonderfully made, and it is tremendously egotistical to think that his development is all on me.

In truth, Joseph already makes a positive difference in this world. People who interact with him are touched, impacted by his sweetness and caring and humor. For many, he is the first person with autism who can engage quite well with them.

So maybe I can relax and realize that the arrow is already going straight. These kids are God’s own, just like all of us, and so I give mine back to God.

Which, of course, is where he is anyway.

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