This Sunday, Christian families will take their children to an Easter worship service. Many families will be traveling with plans to visit a church home that is not their own. Other families struggle to find a place where their special needs children are welcomed.
Visiting an unfamiliar church, particularly on a holiday, can put a family dealing with autism over the edge.
That’s why I’m sharing a true story with you. If you are stressed out about attending a holiday service, I hope this story makes you realize you are Not Alone. Pull up a chair and let me take you there:
The setting:
A holiday service at my mother’s church in her coastal town. A packed house with many travelers visiting that day.
Rolling into the sanctuary doors — and just in the nick of time (as usual) — are Elise, my eleven-year-old daughter, followed by my husband Matt. I trail behind them with a firm grasp on my then nine-year-old autistic son Alec. We begin the long walk down the center aisle in search of a group of empty seats.
We walk. And walk. And walk. You get the picture.
Elise spots them first: a cluster of seats located three rows from the front. (That’s right! WAY UP in the front. Directly in front of the pastor.)
Now, you might think that a responsible parent would check Alec into a Sunday school class. But we autism parents have superhero-like powers to detect potential problems, and my internal sensors were reading “MELTDOWN PROBABILITY: 99.985%” as I passed the sign-in station for the Sunday school area.
If I checked Alec into this unfamiliar Sunday School class, I knew my pager number would flash on the Time Square-like monitors just minutes into the sermon. Big, bold numbers, shouting a secret language:
“Hey, come and get your son! NOW!”
Not today, I think. I need church today. Our family was going through a challenging trial, and I was desperate for biblical encouragement that could nourish my weary soul.
So … Alec comes with us into the sanctuary. We sit down as the lights dim. My husband, seated next to me, asks me to pass Alec his smartphone.
I whisper to Matt, “Is the sound switched to OFF?”
“I double-checked it.” He leans over me and instructs Alec to play only the Angry Birds game.
The service was wonderful. I was refreshed as I stood proudly with my family, belting out worship songs as loudly as I could. I dutifully jotted down the pastor’s meticulously-planned sermon points.
Point One. Point Two. Point Three.
Eventually the pastor began his summary statement, wrapping up his holiday message into one powerful point that we could take home to ponder at our leisure.
“And finally, what we can learn from today’s Bible story is …” the pastor began, hovering a few feet from my sweet little family.
I couldn’t help but smile. Here I was, a typical, proud mama with her well-behaved family on this beautiful holiday weekend.
Until …
And that’s when it happened.
Somehow, in some way, Alec managed to restore the sound on Matt’s smartphone. And it wasn’t quiet. It was loud. Very loud.
There is really no way for you to get the full effect of this story other than to let you hear the actual sound yourself.
Click on this video, and you, too, can experience the beautiful backdrop that my son generously provided for the pastor’s closing sermon point: (Go ahead. Be brave and click the link:)
What happened next was something I will always refer to as “The Miracle on Mother’s Day.” Because to this day, I know that it was a miracle that my son made it out of that sermon alive.
You might think that either I or my husband would have quickly turned off the sound. That did not occur. Believe me, Matt tried. As the entire row in front of us turned to stare, my husband, with the speed of a cheetah, leaned over me and yanked the phone from my surprised son’s hands.
He jabbed at the screen. He punched buttons. He slapped the phone against his palm … but the soundtrack continued.
Quickly, I positioned myself strategically in between my frantic husband and my son, aware that Matt might send my young son on an impromptu trip meet Jesus. I glanced at my socially-aware middle schooler, Elise. She was melting into her seat, her face in her hands.
Matt punched. Matt jabbed. Nothing. The Angry Birds continued to chirp. The pigs squealed. The lady in front of me turned to give us THE STINK EYE. I looked to the left and to the right, and all eyes were on us.
Then my desperate husband, fresh out of alternatives, jumped up and sat down HARD! on his phone, quieting — but not completely blocking — the sounds. We waited for the video to finish, thirty more seconds of chirps and oinks. It was the longest 1.5 minutes of my life.
Then I heard it, over the muffled sounds of the Angry Birds theme song trumpeting, er, emanating from my husband’s behind. The lady in front of me, the one who gave us THE STINK EYE, started to giggle. Then I started to giggle with her. Elise lowered her hands from her face, tentatively. And Matt exhaled, a deep breath of surrender.
In that moment, my family, Matt, Elise, Alec and I, surrendered, understanding that:
Living with a special needs child is living a life
that is sometimes out of our control.
And that’s perfectly okay.
We left the service that day with tears of laughter streaming down our faces. We were victors, a family of desperados who survived the Out of Town Holiday Worship Service.
God’s Great Gift of Laughter
Ecclesiastes 3:4 tells us that there is
“a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance.”
I am filled with gratitude for God’s gift of laughter, because there are times when laughter is the only thing that has gotten me through our journey with autism. I remind myself, especially on the hardest of days, to laugh a little each and every day.
In fact, the Bible teaches that strength can be found in the joy of the Lord. (Nehemiah 8:10) Don’t we all need dose of strength for the hard days?
Now It’s Your Turn: Do you have a story to share?
Do you have a funny story to share? If so, please post it in the comments. It’s always a good day to laugh! And never forget this free tip from my husband, Matt:
Triple-check your smartphone sound settings
before passing it off to your child during Easter service!
Have a Blessed Easter! He is Risen!!!


Latest posts by Kelly Langston (see all)
- Have a Merry, Messy Christmas! - December 22, 2015
- Gratitude: God’s Secret Pathway to Protection - November 24, 2015
- Will It Be All Right? (And What if You Aren’t Sure?) - October 28, 2015
Bless your hearts! Before cell phone games were invented, I’d resort to any item I could find in my purse to keep my autistic son quiet in church. My most ingenious discovery was an entire strip of unused sandwich bag ties, not sure how they made it in my purse. But my son sat quietly through the Christmas eve service as he designed a sleigh pulling tiny reindeer out of those twisty ties. It was good, too! So good that it ended up as an ornament on our Christmas tree when we got back home.
Yes…I definitely laughed with this one.
Our story is a little different. Our son was diagnosed ADHD before we knew about Aspergers and autism. He actually took Ridilin and it kept him calm or as he put it “slowed his brain down so he could think.” On weekend we ran out of his medication because pay day wasn’t until Monday and we had some unexpected expenses that particular week. So my son overhears my husband and I discussing that we would pick up his meds on Monday. So we go to church and everything was going beautifully. After Sunday school his teacher catches me in the hall and asks if we are doing okay. Startled by the question I inquired as to why she asked. She went on to inform me that after Sunday school my child was going up and down the halls of the church asking people for money because his mommy and daddy couldn’t afford his medication. Instant mortification. So I go in search of my son who has left his class. I found him in the foyer of the church and sure enough, he was standing and asking everyone who passed for money for his meds.
I can laugh now…well giggle a little… 😉
Thanks for a wonderful story! We struggle with church because our son (20) with Down Syndrome is pretty sure he is a priest; he actually got up on the altar and lifted one of the extra chalices during mass one Sunday. Most people in the congregation are loving and supportive; often they tell us how Sean’s reverence helps them. Not everyone feels the same and that can be a downer so I loved that Lady Stink Eye finally figured out how to laugh 🙂 You should make sure to see Praying with Lior 🙂
We’ve had a number of amusing church moments with our HFA daughter. When she was a toddler, she thought prayer had gone on long enough and in a moment of pause between thoughts in prayer she loudly exclaimed, “AMEN!” Another moment was when she was about 3 and in her religious ed class, she again thought it had gone on long enough and excused herself with, “OK, See you later. Bye.” As she got up from her seat, left the room, and was halfway down the hall before the teacher caught up with her. Lastly, we’ve had to limit paper the kids use during service because if we give too much attention to the service and don’t monitor the kids then the paper airplanes start flying. Yes, I’m telling the truth.
My daughter is nonverbal and has a recessive genetic disorder. We typically attend on Sunday mornings when there is no special needs Sunday school. It is a rare weekend when we don’t have to get up in the middle of a sermon when she starts squaking and flapping, upset about something, and switch to the family viewing room. Thankfully, we now are on a first name basis with our ushers, and they’re pretty unflappable about opening doors and steering wheelchairs when I need it! But I have to say, the race trumpet sounding on the clip was classic! Thanks for sharing and reminding me that I’m not alone.
I can sympathize with you! One Mother’s Day I decided to take my two sons to church with me. I too knew my son Josh (autistic, Mitochondrial Disease, and much more) would never make it in Sunday School. As we sat thru the sermon I tried to keep Josh occupied as best as I could. It was a challenge! At the end of the ceremony they asked all moms to come to the front of the church. I thought nope not going to happen! Well the lady behind me said oh you need to go up there. I kept saying no I can’t leave Josh as all the other moms proudly walks to the front of the church.
Now this is a small church of 124-175. Finally after much prodding by a fellow church member, I walked slowly towards the front of the church. I stood with all the other mothers as they all looked so happy and so proud. I on the other hand was staring at my kids saying to my self “please, please ,please God just let them not do something awful!” I turned my head for one brief moment to accept a small gift and that is when it happened.
The church was very quiet and Joshua belts out at the top of his lungs “Batista!!”
Now if you aren’t aware Batista is a wrestler that his father introduced him to. So immediately I thought ugh! I’m soo glad you introduced him to Batista!!
As I stood there lined up with all the other moms with “perfect” children I felt my face turning fire engine red.
My other son starts laughing and then josh of course thought he said something that must be very entertaining! So he kept it up.
I waited a moment or two and went back to my seat to corral my kids.
Now I look back and laugh at that day. My sons are such a blessing. An Autism as challenging as it may be can have funny moments.
Kristin: I am still giggling over your story. Batista! Ha!
That is the BEST story! I loved it! Been there too!!!!
Thank you for sharing. Medicine for my soul. I don’t remember the last time I laughed like this, between reading your story and the comments. Then cried. Yes, this is our reality and I can so imagine myself and my family in each of these stories. My seven-year-old son is mostly non-verbal. At times he can’t stop squealing. We usually try to sit at the back, but often it’s filled by the time we get to church. This last Sunday (Palm Sunday), as we sat near the front, my son started squealing. I thought I had quieted him, but he started up twice as loud just as soon as praying started. He thinks the quite times are made just for ear-piercing squealing. Knowing that it would cause more of a disturbance to get up and leave during a prayer, I just hold my hand firmly over his mouth while whispering for him to stop and praying in my head that everyone will be understanding. Not sure what crowded Easter morning will bring, but it will be interesting.
Hang in there, Annie. And who is to know, but maybe your sweet boy is worshiping in his own way? Make a joyful noise unto the Lord; God will be blessed.
I pray you have a blessed Easter, Annie!
Dear Kelly,
That was hilarious, and so well told-I almost felt like I was there with you. I thought you were going to say your hubby threw the phone which I’ve pondered doing if mine were to ever go off in our unusually quiet sanctuary!
Hope you all have a fabulous Easter-thanks for sharing.
Happy Easter to you, too, Judith!
Our sweet Aec has given us all humility, I can relate to Ruth Stieff too. I remember the day I attempted to take Alec to church while you were singing in the choir. He had a meltdown and fell on the floor and wouldn’t get up…while I sat with him and everyone had to climb over both of us. But I am so thankful for him. Thank you Kelly for sharing this unforgettable church service with everyone. Happy Easter !
I think I remember that happening!
Thanks, Kelli!
Oh, Kelly, that was SO funny and painfully familiar. Thank you so much for the reminder that there is a time for laughter (especially in a crowded church service!)
Oh this brings back memories My husband is the lead pastor of our church. I remember a father’s day…let’s not go there, I remember a winter day when my husband and 1 daughter were on a mission trip and it was a below zero day…my other daughter dropped my son off at sunday school but didn’t do it “right.” I found my son at the bottom of the stairs in the center of our building between services. Every adult and child in church seemed to be stepping over him as he laid there. The list could go on. Being a pastor’s family with a special needs child can really put these events “center stage.” Fortuneately we lived through and can laugh about them today. Thanks for the reminder.
Ruth: It must be especially hard being on center stage! Glad you are laughing today!
🙂 We had many church moments like this! One memorable Christmas Eve, our son– who was “mostly” non-verbal, and absolutely did not understand the request to stop talking, once he stopped–or to at least bring it down to a whisper–announced that he wanted a TACO. Naturally he wouldn’t stop on that. The little girls behind us got to giggling, and I passed notes around offering $100 to the first person who could come up with a taco.
Happy Easter! He is risen INDEED!!!
Patty: I can relate to a desire for taco! Thanks for sharing!
My kids LOVE that video so your story definitely made me giggle!
Loved your story and SO related! lol
Here is a funny experience I had as a special needs Mom.
http://peachneitherherenorthere.blogspot.com/2008/10/peek-into-mind-of-ninja-mom.html
Loved your story and SO related! lol
Here is a funny experience I had as a special needs Mom.
http://peachneitherherenorthere.blogspot.com/2008/10/peek-into-mind-of-ninja-mom.html
Love your story and SO related! : ) Here is one of the funny stories I had as a special needs Mom.
http://peachneitherherenorthere.blogspot.com/2008/10/peek-into-mind-of-ninja-mom.html
LOVE the reminder that we are NOT ALONE!
We always sat in the back row at our church…easier to escape. Our son Adam has sensory issues and doesn’t like to wear shirts. We were always successful having him wear a shirt when we went somewhere. One Sunday, when he was about 12 years old, during a prayer, he quickly whisked off his shirt AND began running down the aisle. We didn’t catch him until he was almost to the front! The most embarrassing part was facing everyone as we walked him, shirtless, all the way back to our pew!
Oh, my. I hope you can laugh about it now. I can imagine what that would have been like. For Alec, it was shoes. He hated them. Even in the frigid weather.
Thank you for the great story reminding us we are NOT ALONE! Great chuckle that will last throughout the day!
Indeed a great story to remind us that we are NOT ALONE! Thanks for the first chuckle of the day that will last throughout!
Indeed a great story to remind us that we are NOT ALONE! Thank you for the first chuckle of the morning that will last throughout the day!
Kelly, thanks for this FABULOUS reminder to not “…take life too seriously. None of us is gettin’ out alive!” There is healing in humor. And it certainly keeps things like the Angry Birds incident in their proper perspective.
So true!