Back in December I wrote about the frustration and embarrassment of a particular church service with our 30-year-old son, Joel, who has autism. Joel could not sit still that day, blew out the Advent candles, muttered under his breath the entire service, walked into the bathroom and flushed the toilet several times (you have to understand that this is a very small church, and our one bathroom is adjacent to a portion of the congregation), and, at the end of the worship set, stood up front, clapped his hands and said, very loudly, “It’s time to sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!”
It wasn’t all embarrassment and frustration that day. I also wrote about the acceptance of our amazing family of God at the Oxford Vineyard. I hope you have a minute to read that post before reading Part II of this amazing story.
The following Sunday, an anxiety attack struck me out of the blue just as we were getting ready to leave for church. I don’t know if you’ve ever had one, but panic attacks are often mistaken for a heart attack. It feels as if an elephant is sitting on your chest. You can’t breathe. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest.
There was no way I could go to church. I sent Wally and Joel on without me. After an hour of deep breathing and prayer, the anxiety faded. Little did I know what was happening at church during that time.
Wally told me about it over lunch. I was gob-smacked (don’t you just love that word?!).
Our pastor’s wife, Kim, approached Joel before the service. “Joel, it’s your job to blow out the Advent candles today, OK? So, when it’s time, you and I will walk up front together.”
Joel grinned. Instead of doing what he “knows” he shouldn’t do—but because of the perseverative part of his personality, just can’t help doing—Kim made it his job to do it!
The Advent candles were lit, and the scriptures read. Kim and Joel stood off to the side, waiting, Kim’s arm around Joel’s shoulders.
Becky, the candle-lighter, began to pray. And pray. And pray.
Waiting is not Joel’s forte. Kim tightened her one-armed hug around Joel, whispering in his ear, determined to hold him in place until the right moment.
Finally, the prayer over, Joel and Kim walked forward. Joel leaned forward to blow out the candles.
He started back toward his seat with a smile on his face.
“Wait, Joel!” our pastor John exclaimed. “The band’s going to play Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and you can lead us in singing!
The worship band started in on that time-worn Christmas classic (definitely NOT a church staple!), and Joel walked back toward the front, where John handed him a mic. The entire congregation joined in, faces wreathed in smiles.
This is what you call redemption. Here’s the definition of “redeem” from the Miriam Webster Dictionary:
- To buy back, repurchase; to get or win back
- To free from what distresses or harms; to free from captivity by payment of ransom; to extricate from or help to overcome something detrimental; to release from blame or debt, clear; to free from the consequences of sin
- To change for the better; reform
- Repair, restore
- By inviting Joel forward to be a part of the Advent candle tradition, Joel’s dignity had been won back
- Wally had been freed from embarrassment or the distress of worrying about Joel upsetting the church service. Joel was part of the service
- The entire church service was changed for the better that morning. Everyone won. Joel felt important, accepted, and loved. Wally worshipped without worrying about Joel’s untraditional behavior. The congregation was re-membered, put back together as the Body of Christ, with every part present, accounted for, and able to act out of their gifts
- The repair and restoration that happened that morning were irrevocable. This is the Body of Christ as it was meant to be.
Please, please, please, if you are not able to take your child to church because of embarrassment over behavior or shame or an unaccepting congregation, print out these two posts and share them with your pastor. Ask if you could take some time together to brainstorm ways in which your child might be a part of congregational life. Just as he or she is. Behaviors and all.
That’s why Jesus came to earth. To redeem us. To free us. To extricate us. To purify us. To make us whole.
Alleluia!
If you are interested in reading about the ways in which other families have found redemption in autism and other disabilities, in the church and the community, read Kathy’s newest book, The Spiritual Art of Raising Children with Disabilities
Latest posts by Kathleen Bolduc (see all)
- How to Rise Above Disappointment - June 6, 2018
- The Sprinkled Blessings of Living with Autism - March 14, 2018
- Praise: God’s Antidote to Discouragement - February 7, 2018
My daughter is 22 .We have had problems since she became a teenager where does she fit in at? She has autism and Simpson golibe behymel syndrome
She is mentally an 8 yr old zits very frustrating
Lisa, I hear your frustration, and I, too, have experienced it many times along the way with Joel and his difficult behaviors. All I can tell you is what has worked for me: To keep going back to God and asking him to send people into Joel’s life, to bring healing, and to give me eyes of compassion and a heart that is patient. God will never leave or forsake you or your daughter. Hang on to His love and grace with everything fibre of your being!
I have 2 special needs grandchildren and loved your post sent to me by their mother. Just wonder if you’ve read “Dancing with Max,” the story of Chuck Colson’s autistic grandson (written by Emily Colson). Joel and Max have a similar story and both have great church congregations.
Thanks, Kathy! Yes, I have read Dancing with Max. A wonderful story of God’s grace!
That’s so encouraging to hear. I thought about your first post as I sat in church 3 weeks ago having left our daughter who has Down Syndrome and Autism with her grandparents (she’d been up half the night and couldn’t cope with church which she struggles with at the best of times). My husband and I sat together with our other two children something we never do as one of us is always at the back with our daughter. I sat there and thought of your post and wondered ‘does anyone miss her or even notice she’s not here?’ and it made my heart ache. Two older ladies approached me straight away at the end of the service to ask where our daughter was and exclaim that we never sit together as a family – they’d noticed and I cried! They were the only ones but it was if they’d read my mind and I was so grateful to God for their care and concern. Our church is great and they try really hard but it can be a lonely place to be in to have a child that doesn’t fit so thank you for sharing your struggles and your encouragements in your posts – it’s so nice to have someone who understands!
Yes, Julie, it can be lonely. But I was so blessed to read that 2 women came up right after the service and asked about your daughter. So many people notice our kids, and are blessed by them without our ever knowing. But it’s so wonderful when they let us know!
As someone who was there, I’ll add a little more to the story you may not have heard. Remember Becky who seemed to pray on and on before Joel could blow out the candles? After we sang about Rudolph, she added this little gem: “In case you think Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer isn’t a song that is spiritual enough for church, who do you think Santa asked to guide the sleigh? It was the one carrying the light!” Realizing that we are the ones who carry God’s light, that word went straight to my heart.
Thank you, Merry! Wally forgot to tell me that little story! And how true! We are all light-bearers, along with good ol’ Rudolph!
You have a wonderful church family. This is the way we are meant to come together–with love and appreciation for all of our gifts differing. Marvelous post! Thanks for brightening my day.
Thank you, Patty! Would love to have you come up and visit the OV one of these days!