So, it’s been awhile. Remember what I said about being in the belly of the whale? That’s where I’ve been. Fighting the battle that is THIS post. I didn’t want to write this post. But He has refused to let me think about anything else.
Almost every Sunday, I drag D to church. Going to church is hard for D and he’d rather do almost anything else. Most Sundays he has a meltdown and I have to intervene to calm him down and get him centered in order to continue. Most Sundays he complains about having to go and is simply determined NOT to enjoy himself. It is difficult for ALL of us. Occasionally I will wonder why I keep fighting this battle, before remembering the promise I made.
When I got pregnant with D I was 37 years old. I knew this child was a gift from God. I just knew God gave me this pregnancy. And I behaved like I knew exactly that. I never, ever once worried I would lose the pregnancy. I knew I wouldn’t. This child was a gift. This child had a purpose. I didn’t know what it was but I knew he had one.
But then things changed. Instead of thinking that this child was God’s gift to ME. I started thinking that this child was MY gift to God. That THIS child belonged to God. That I was tasked with raising him and training him, but ultimately the child himself belonged to the Almighty God. I really didn’t understand this thinking myself until very recently when I read this bible passage:
For all the firstborn are Mine; on the day that I struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, I sanctified to Myself all the firstborn in Israel, from man to beast. They shall be Mine; I am the Lord.” Numbers 3:13
I grew up knowing that all firstborn animals of Israel belonged to God. It was not until recently I read that all the firstborn children of Israel belonged to the Lord, also. I am certainly not a Hebrew, but I am certain that this passage explains it. It explains why I am so certain that D belongs solely to the Lord. That is His child.
And that is why I will never give up trying to take D to church every Sunday. D has to know God. It’s absolutely necessary. It’s important for all children to know God, of course. But D is different. He has autism and that complicates things. He is a black and white child in a world filled more and more with grey. He doesn’t understand how the world works. He won’t understand how God works. I know he will struggle with faith. He struggles with most everything else.
I pray solely and daily for him, most of all.
Not because I don’t love A. But D is different. He was different from his birth. He was named biblical names. His middle name is Jacob. In the bible, Jacob literally wrestles with God and is renamed Israel. God has promised Jacob an entire nation built through him. There is the birth of the nation of Israel.
I do not know what God has in store for my son. I know he has something in store. There was a time in which I prayed earnestly for an answer to the question of whether or not D would be a man of faith. The answer was that God has plans for D. Plans that don’t include me. I am to introduce him to Christ, and through Him, God. Then let him walk his own path.
I am unable to do that alone. I must have help. I am so grateful for those who embrace him with open hearts. You don’t know how richly you’ve blessed us.
And that’s why I will never, ever, ever give up taking D to church.
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