ABBY KARSTEN|GUEST

While proceeding through a 39-page psychological evaluation, my husband and I finally arrived at the list of diagnoses. There were six, and one included autism spectrum disorder.

In so many ways, we were relieved. Since our son was a baby, we had wondered what made his brain and body so different from our daughter’s. “Autism” was tossed around in conversations with doctors and trusted friends, but many pieces didn’t fit the “typical” autism diagnosis: he craved physical connection, made eye contact, and was highly social/verbal. Yet, there were mysteries and challenges: regular meltdowns lasting hours, significant social miscues, bouts of running away, and sudden and extreme sensory distress. Now, with a diagnosis, we would get resources and support.

Of course, in the year since then, things have not always gone according to plan. Hoping for resources and resolutions, I was quickly overwhelmed by too many options, waiting lists, and confusion about what would help our son.

I share this to point out that each situation is unique. Professionals agree that this disorder varies widely; individual strengths and challenges diverge greatly. Health care providers, trusted teachers, therapists, and autism-specific groups are a key part of getting help for a child diagnosed with autism. While the struggles that come from caring for someone with autism vary widely, our need for the gospel is universal.

Here are two ways caregivers can direct their gaze at Jesus amid the challenges of caring for a neurodivergent child.

Look to Jesus in the “race” you are called to run.

The author of Hebrews reminds us “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith” (12:1-2a). In the midst of a metaphor that includes struggle (competitive running hurts) this passage gives two forms of encouragement.

First, we are surrounded by witnesses: though we run our unique race in life and faith, we are not alone. The witnesses mentioned here are not impartial observers. They are the ones who have gone before, who “stand in Scripture as a witness to the character of committed faith”[1] –the ones who were praised for their steadfastness in Hebrews 11.

Second, and more significantly, we are called to look to Jesus, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted” (12:2b-3). Human witnesses are helpful, but our greater comfort is found by focusing our gaze on our hero and Savior.

Living with, and caring for, a neurodivergent child can be characterized as “enduring hostility.” After a significantly challenging evening with our son, I rose the next morning heavy with the failures of the night before, spinning to construct a narrative (or system) to control (or prevent) the next meltdown. My first impulse was to text a friend who knew, to vent and get advice. Though not wrong, the Spirit intervened, causing me to pause and pray. I confessed my obsession with solutions born from a lack of endurance: I wanted the struggle to stop. I hated the prospect of experiencing another episode like this one, which was, of course, inevitable.

But regardless of our children’s qualities, we parents are called to run a path of faithful love and care. My confession turned into an opportunity to gaze at the character and work of Jesus. Earlier in Hebrews, we are reminded “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (4:14-15). Our sin and failures are covered by Jesus’ blood; His endurance becomes ours. Jesus’ joy in fulfilling the Father’s will becomes our inheritance and strength to continue.

Choose to remember what is true, lovely, and worthy of praise.

As already acknowledged, raising a child with autism includes chronic and acute challenges. To “run well,” we ought also turn our focus on what is good and true, following Paul’s instruction in Phil 4:8: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

Sometimes, we must consciously give our attention to true and beautiful things in order to persevere. Don’t read this as an admonition to bounce blissfully through life with butterflies and begonias. It’s often on the days that I feel the grumpiest or most discouraged about my parental failings that I must think about what is just, true, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise. Recently, I stayed home with our son (recovering from the flu), to give my husband (working from home) a break. Our son made cheerful progress on his schoolwork until I tried to help. Every time I approached to answer his requests, he ran away screaming and hid in his closet. I was in the middle of writing this article.

So, I had to take my own advice. What is worthy of praise? God has given our son two parents. What is lovely? Our son’s smile, when it comes. What is true? The gospel. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved” (Eph 2:4-5).

The gospel puts our life in perspective. We were dead in our sin, and Jesus made us alive with Him. On our best days, laughing together at dinner, everyone miraculously seated at the table, and on our worst days, losing our temper during the daily bathtime battle, our identity is found in Christ. Our ability to focus on whatever is honorable, pure, and excellent comes from fixing our gaze on Jesus, now glorified, who ran the race before us, accomplishing what we could not. In whatever challenges you face, behold Jesus, the true, lovely, and excellent Son of God, who offers us abundant life.

[1]  Lane, William L. Hebrews: A Call to Commitment, p. 157.

Photo by Benjamin Manley on Unsplash