A Mother’s Cry: Can my Disabled Child Ever Become a Christian?

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It’s Easter Sunday, the very centre of my beliefs as a Christian, that my Lord and Saviour not only died for me on a cross to carry my sin, but he rose again on the third day to beat death once and for all to enable me (and everyone else who believes) to have eternal life.

I sat in church today and heard the gospel message preached with my beautiful children beside me, just the same as my parents did the generation before. I never tire of hearing the message of Jesus crucified and at 15 it impacted me personally on such a level my life has been rooted and grounded in my faith ever since.

Yet here I am faced with a massive question that has caused me to question my faith in a way I never ever expected: if he wanted to, could my disabled son ever become a Christian?

Why would I ask this? Well every tract I have ever read (there have been hundreds), every gospel message I have heard preached (there have been many) and every evangelist I have listened to have all taught a way to salvation that is fundamentally impossible for my child to ever achieve.

img_1145-1This is Isaac. He is, like everyone of us, made in the image of God. He is the most beautiful and incredible gift ever given to me. He is a true miracle having been prayed for and believed for against all odds. I was given medically less than 1% chance of ever having children yet after ten years of infertility God blessed me with not one, but two, babies. Isaac was the first born of twins. He has soft dark brown hair, hazel eyes that shine light and sparkle with life even if one of them doesn’t work and the other hides a tumour on its optic nerve. He makes noises, though at 9 and a half none of these noises form words that you and I can distinguish. He has severe autism. He has severe learning difficulties. He is epileptic. He has a brain tumour that means he will forever function as a very young child, most likely no more than aged 2 to 3 years.

So when I hear today’s gospel message once again I am crying, not only because the story of my Saviour always touches the very core of my being but because I know how the service will end and I can’t help wondering…

Can my disabled child ever be saved?

You see the way of salvation in the Bible is clear. It is based on such well known and readily quoted verses of so many believers: Romans chapter 10 and verse 9; “That if you confess with your mouth that ‘Jesus is Lord’, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

I believe that.

But what if someone has such significant learning difficulties they will never understand and they can not speak their own name let alone say ‘Jesus is Lord’. What happens then?

Then there’s the famous one in John chapter 3 and verse 16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I believe that too.

But what about those who are cognitively unable to believe?

I could go on and talk about sin, baptism, the work of the cross, bridging the gap between God and man and all sorts of things that preachers and tracts talk about. Not one of these things will ever be understood by my son.

If he can’t understand the story can he ever believe in God?

He is never going to raise his hand at an alter call. He will never go forward for prayer to turn his life around, he will never hold a microphone and testify to how he was once an addict and now he is a Christian.

The fact of life is, for my son, and so many others, we need to see salvation in a different way.

Maybe I am tearing up the theology books here, maybe I am shaking traditions, but I believe my baby boy will always be saved. He will never be the lost sheep that the Shepherd longed to find. He will never be the prodigal son. He will never sin. The acts of the sinful nature (according to Galatians chapter 5 verses 19-20) are sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery, idolatry and witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, orgies and the like…one thing I can category say is that my son will never do these.

He embodies innocence. As Psalm 139 says he is fearfully and wonderfully made. Like us all he was made in the image of God. But unlike us, he can not choose to sin, neither can he choose to believe.

He can flap as we sing praises, he can make a joyful noise, he can rest in the presence of God. He can feel peace, experience joy and love deeply. I believe he can know God in his Spirit even if his mind and body don’t function as well as we would all like.

I believe he is in the palm of Gods hand.

I believe in grace that a loving God has searched my son and knows his heart, that he is familiar with all his ways. He alone created his inmost being.

God has this covered.

Can my son ever get saved when he can’t believe and confess like every preacher and tract says he has to?

I can’t quote you scripture but my mother’s heart cries out to a God who hears my prayers and is carrying my son both now and forever.

That’s my mother’s cry.

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How My Severely Autistic Son Used YouTube To Speak To Me


Isaac loves his iPad. It is with him from the moment he wakes until the second he goes to sleep. He has a few games he likes and he really enjoys looking through the photos but his all time love is YouTube.

He is pretty typical of many 8 year old boys in that sense. However there is something very different about Isaac: he has no spoken language at all. Isaac has severe autism as well as other complex medical issues and he has poor eye sight. He can not read or write and certainly can not type into a you tube search bar. He fumbles his way through you tube by clicking on random videos and spends most of his day flapping in delight at lift doors opening and closing over and over again.

When Isaac does listen to songs they tend to be very random or theme tunes of favourite programmes aimed at very young children like ”Peppa Pig’ or ‘Wooly and Tig’. He rarely allows anyone else to touch his iPad so he has to go on ‘rabbit trails’ through lift videos or episodes of Wooly and Tig to find anything different. Due to the nature of the video playing app he tends to be faced with a fairly limited repertoire but this has suited him immensely due to his need and love for repetition.

I am not afraid to admit I often struggle to parent my son. He gets frustrated (I absolutely understand that) and that can lead to hours of screaming or throwing himself down the stairs or hitting and pinching people. He has severe phobias of things I can not control like open doors or other children (including his sister) eating and drinking. His life has to be the same all the time which makes living with him quite restrictive. He is not toilet trained nor can he care for any of his own needs. Some days I get very low and I question ‘why us?’ My faith has been taken to levels of testing I never knew existed before.


Then one night last week I stopped what I was doing and just sat beside my son. I longed to hold him but I knew he would attack me. My love for him was overwhelming yet I was unsure if he even knew who I was. I sat beside him on his bed and I could feel the tears building at the back of my eyes. I have not been able to take him to church for weeks now because of his outbursts and his inability to cope with the slightest change. Had God forgotten about my child? Did my son have any idea of the world around him or how much he was loved? I was weeping for my child. My heart was broken both for myself and my son.
In that moment I heard words that seemed to come from God himself. A male voice I had never heard before. The words caught my heart before my brain even fully processed them..

 
“Don’t weep for me…”

What? My son was looking right at me smiling. He knew who I was and not only did he love me but he had something to share with me. He moved closer to me as his finger pulled the scroller on the you tube bar back to the start of where he wanted it to be…

Somehow, I believe from God himself, my non verbal severely autistic son with limited eyesight and no ability to read or write, had found a song on you tube that was saying everything HE wanted me to know…

Don’t weep for me, God made me this way. He’s chosen not to let me speak, but I hear every word you say…

Because the pieces of many colours symbolises what I am, it represents the hope of a cure that lies in God’s own hands” 

He pulled that bar back to the exact spot again and again as those words washed right over us both.
I was weeping for a child I thought I had lost but here that same child was showing me more than his own words ever could in a way so powerful, so emotional and so spiritual it was like God himself was in that room. 

I can not explain how he found that video. I can not explain how he understood those words and related them to himself. I have no logical explanation to the timing of me arriving in his room and him finding it or the fact he would scroll right back to the start of that chorus time and time again.
We sat there together for what felt like hours. The words of that song healing places in my heart I had not even realised were broken.

 
It was an experience I will never forget. My non verbal severely autistic son with complex medical and developmental needs brought me to tears by using you tube to communicate something I will never forget. 

Isaac can not speak to me but God can use any means he wants to give him a voice. That day he used you tube and this song.
Have a listen to what my son wants everyone to know:

 

Please stop praying for my son with autism to be healed

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So many people have told me over the years they are praying for my son. I am incredible grateful for that and the kindness they show but what are they praying about?
Are they asking God for my 8 year old to finally speak? Are they asking for his seizures to stop? Are they praying he learns to communicate or to read and write? Or are they praying for him to be healed of his autism?

Let me be very clear..I want people to pray for my son. My entire family needs prayers and needs God more than we ever have. We need love and support. But please please could you not pray for my son with autism to be healed?

Here is why.

There are many occasions when Jesus healed individual people in the Bible. These include people who were blind, deaf, paralysed, had leprosy, fevers, seizures and even those who had died. Despite studying all of these incidences I could not find any occasions when Jesus prayed for anyone who had learning difficulties or communication difficulties like my son’s autism to be healed.

Then there were mass healing events that Jesus did. Again although many were healed there is no direct reference to children or adults who struggled socially or had repetitive behaviours like my son.

The Bible says that Jesus welcomed the little children. Although I have no proof I am certain there were children in Bible times who displayed similar difficulties to my child. I know they were every bit as welcome to Jesus.

The Bible says that my child is fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139:14).
The Bible says my son was knitted together in my womb (Psalm 139: 13)
The Bible says my son is created in God’s likeness (Ephesians 4:24)
The Bible says my son is the apple of God’s eye. (Psalm 17:8)
The Bible says my son is God’s workmanship created to do good works. (Ephesians 2:10)
The Bible says God has plans to prosper my son and not to harm him, to give him a hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

God sees no difference between my son and anyone else. He does not view my son as less than or inadequate in any way. Could God heal my son of his seizures and his genetic condition that causes tumours in his body? Yes, without a doubt. Could God open my son’s mouth to give him clear speech? Yes, I believe that with all my heart. Could God cause him to be more settled and display less challenging behaviour and agitation? Without a seconds doubt of course he could. These are things I pray over him daily.

IMG_0440I pray for peace for him. I pray for joy and laughter. I pray for people to understand him and show him love. I pray safety as he travels so far back and forth in country roads to school each day. I pray for a receptive mind and open heart. I pray strength to his body and ease from pain. I pray for him to sleep (I am human so this is something I need too).

I pray for strength for myself as I care for him. I pray for wisdom and unity for those who work with me to meet his needs. I pray for his sister as she deals and lives with some events that could traumatise her. I pray her tender heart is not broken too often. I pray for friends she can trust. I pray she knows she is loved when her brother consumes so much of my time.

There is so many things I pray for and so many things others can pray for too. There are things you CAN pray for for my son to be healed of, but autism is not one of them. Autism is a neurological difference in his mind that causes him to see the world a bit differently. Autism is a part of the way God made him and it makes him beautiful and perfect.

God made each one of us part of a body. My son is every bit as much a part of the body of Christ as the next person even if he has severe learning difficulties, is vision impaired, has global delay and has autism. It does not matter to God that he flaps, spins, screams and is unable to speak. Man looks at all that but as the Bible says “The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” I Samuel 16:7

I pray that the world looks at my son’s heart too.

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How a church changed summer for one special needs family

 

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One email.

That was all it took.

A lot of courage but just one email.

Last summer was so hard and I knew I could not face it again so I swallowed my pride and dropped my Church office a note.

‘Could anyone help me out?…’

They responded quickly. They responded lovingly. They reached out and changed my entire summer.

A few weeks before the schools broke up I was asked to meet with them. They had ideas and I had ideas and we discussed simple ways people, many we hardly knew, could help us through the challenges of seven weeks holiday with two complex needs children.

I suggested perhaps one meal a week that I didn’t have to cook or prepare. They went above and beyond and hand delivered up to three meals a week, some of them arriving still hot and ready to be served. Roast chicken, bolagnaise, curry, home made cakes, puddings, side dishes and sometimes even a starter too! That someone would take the time to buy ingredients, cook a meal and deliver it just for us is truly overwhelming. Every little pea, or grain of rice shared spoke of love in action.

It was suggested that people could sit with my children to allow my husband and myself an hour for a coffee. One hour during the holidays would have been amazing but once again they went one step further and my children looked forward with excitement to the two ‘best babysitters’ who came once a week for a couple of hours whatever the weather. Two hours out of their week but that time to me was like a wave of respite and sanctuary in a stormy ocean. It also had the added bonus that every Sunday my children ran to the two woman, desperate to see them again and connect with them even more. Every minute of time spent together sowing seeds of love that will change both my children and the precious ladies.

imageAnother couple invited me to bring the children to her house one day. Neither of us were to know it would be the hottest day of the summer and the children had a wonderful time in a paddling pool (well my son preferred a plastic crate!) and watering plants. Precious memories for me, the children, but also for the couple who also enjoyed a wonderful day shared with friends. My children were able to be themselves without imagepressure or stress and their needs almost disappeared as quickly as the water did from the paddling pool when my son decided to tip it out! One day; a million memories made.

I mentioned at the meeting that there was one day I could not even begin to face that summer. It was a day I had dreaded for months as I could see no practical solution in sight. I had a very important hospital appointment to attend in a hospital miles from home that would take hours. Due to the treatment I needed it was not possible for the children to attend. The appointment could not be cancelled and I had no idea how I was going to do it. In stepped the church once again with a plan. What did my children like doing? Where was their favourite place to go? What do they like eating? And so, with tears in my eyes, a plan was formed. My non verbal, severely autistic, lift loving son, would get to go on his favourite lift tour on a train to the city with three adults to support him. I would provide nappies, clothes, money and anything else and they would provide the manpower. Meanwhile my autistic, nervous, selective mute daughter would be looked after at home in the comfort of her own surroundings to keep her anxiety at bay. How do you ever replay people for giving you something like that? It would be no exaggeration to call them angels.

imageIn among this I received texts of encouragement, prayers, hugs and someone even delivered nappies that they saw advertised for free on social media and thought about me and my son immediately. In fact I felt so encouraged I began fundraising to build my children a sensory room and with the help of the church all the funds were raised within just four weeks. We are currently building that now.

This summer has been so different to any other. For the first time I have not felt isolated, forgotten or alone. My church changed summer for my special needs family and I can not thank them enough.

Matthew 25:40 (NIV) “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

The day one of my neighbours became an angel to my seven year old.

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I wish I had the faith of my seven year old. When she prays incredible things happen time and time again.

My daughter is so special but so fragile. God has his hand on her in a very special way. Naomi has autism. She has huge anxiety and her twin brother has a genetic condition with complex needs as well as autism. To help ease her anxieties she carries little toys with her wherever she goes, including going to school.

A week ago today her twin brother was due to go to hospital to have an ambulatory EEG machine fitted to monitor his seizure activity. Naomi was more anxious than usual that day and clung to her toys in her pocket as she walked to school.

I left her at school and headed up to hospital with her brother Isaac. It was traumatic for him and for us and we headed home with him all wired up. Naomi was collected from school by her gran as we were not going to be home in time.image

I came home to her in tears. One of her precious toys has been lost. She was distraught and I felt so helpless. I could not just go to a shop and replace it as her brother could not be left unattended and she knew this. Nothing could make things better and she cried in my arms. My heart was broken for her.

As she dried her tears and her breathing settled she quietly looked up at me and whispered

“It’s ok mummy. I have prayed. God will bring me back my toy.”

My thoughts turned to how I could make this happen. I did not want her heart to be disappointed but more importantly I did not want her faith to be shaken. I am her mum, but I can not be God. I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and saw her heart of faith.

“Naomi, you are right. I believe with you.”

And that was that. She had prayed.

As I continued to watch her brother closely we started homework with a total peace. She lined up her toys leaving an obvious gap where her missing one belonged. I knew she would not sleep tonight with that gap there but she just assured me God would bring her toy back.

She did her spelling and her reading with her heart of peace intact. She smiled, she laughed and she carried on as normal.

Then the door bell went.

Mummy, that is the Angel God has sent with my toy.”

Have you ever seen an angel? Do you think they have a halo, wings and dressed in white? My daughter knows differently. There on my doorstep stood a neighbour I only knew by sight.

“Hi, this may sound strange. On my way to work this morning I found a plastic toy on the ground. I picked it up and wondered if it belonged to your daughter. I don’t know you but I put it in my pocket and took it to work with me. I am on my way home now and just thought I would knock your door and ask if it belonged to you.image

My daughter danced with excitement. I cried.

I don’t know what my son faces but I know God is with us.
I don’t know how my daughter will cope with a future with autism, anxiety and living with a twin with complex needs but what I do know is that God has his hand upon her in a very special way.

God cares about a plastic toy for a seven year old and God cares about you.

I will never forget the day one of my neighbours became an angel to my seven year old.

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The reason I write

imageToday marks three years since I started blogging.

In that time I have gained experience, followers and a lot of views. But what made me start blogging and why do I continue when I have been accused of exploiting my children, damaging them and even attention seeking?
Well the answer can be found in the name of my blog: Faithmummy.

The week after I had my 36th birthday it dawned on me that I was suddenly nearer forty than I was thirty and it was time to do something with my life. So I prayed. Prayer is my default setting because I have a strong faith.
I thought I had ONE story to share. So I looked online at how to do this. It was too long for social media standard posts and I could not find a suitable online forum so looked into blogging. I set up a blog and prayed. And then began to write.
And as I wrote I felt there would be more to come but that was all I knew.I clicked publish and put it on my own Facebook. It seemed popular. I was taken aback!
A few days later I contacted my brother who I knew had an already established professional blog in his field of expertise. I asked him one question..
So what do I do now?
He said that I would have to update it and that many people do this weekly!
Weekly? But I only had one story!
So I prayed. And the next week I felt I had something else to write.
So I updated my blog and people read it.
As the next week approached I prayed. And then I wrote.
167 posts later, I pray, and then I write.
And if I don’t feel I have something to share I wait.

So the number one reason I write is because I feel God wants me to write. Wether people read it or not, I write for me.

Before I press ‘publish’ I pray, sometimes ‘sleep on it’, send it to a friend or speak to my closest earthly friend of all, my husband. Sometimes we all need wise council to keep us right.
Maybe some weeks I get it wrong. I am sure I do. But God is gracious and I believe he knows my heart. And I believe He is supernaturally protecting my children in it all.
No-one really knows the difficulties and opposition I have faced in my blogging journey and neither do many people know my statistics. It is a personal journey in many ways despite the fact I write publicly.

I can not tell you all the places my blog has appeared. I can not tell you the names of the people it has helped. But what I can say with confidence is that the person who has been the most touched, transformed and become closer to God in it all is me. The bigger my audience the more I need Him. And the more I pray.

I am just a mummy.

A mummy who can not face what I face without my faith.

I share from my heart, and I hope in some way I share from God’s heart too.

By the grace of God Faithmummy was birthed and by the grace of God it continues.

You might think it is about my children. But in actual fact it is about me: me as a mum, and my faith.

So even though I now write for several different places this blog will remain as Faithmummy and until I feel the time is right to stop, I will write.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting. Thank you for sharing. But mostly thank you for being part of my journey.

YOU make Faithmummy what it is!

Happy birthday Faithmummy!

How did we get here?

As I sat holding my frightened 5 year old daughter in the back of an ambulance at 2:30 in the morning, for a split second, in the midst of fear and exhaustion, I wondered how exactly did we get here?

Here I was giving details of my daughter calmly to a stranger in a green uniform when all my body craved was sleep. I would say adrenalin was taking over, but medically this is impossible as I live with a potentially life threatening condition which means my body does not produce stress hormones. Moments earlier I had been lying in my bed praying silent prayers. It seemed at that moment they were not to be answered.
Naomi had been struggling for the last 24 hours with nose bleeds. At the tender age of 5 she had experienced them before. But nothing on this scale. I had already been in to her 4 times since she had been put to bed. But they just kept restarting. It was getting scary, for her and for me, and for my husband. Dad was becoming frustrated that his baby girl was not able to let him help. So he let me deal with this one. But this one was never ending. And then she started vomiting up blood. Again and again. I have never been so terrified. So I called for an ambulance.

So that was how we ended up at accident and emergency in the middle of the night with one of my babies.

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As I look in the mirror at the scratches and bruises on my neck caused by my five year old non verbal son I once again wonder, how did we get here?

How did we get to the place where he punches us, kicks us, bites us, scratches us and throws things at us? When did it all start? When did I start dreading reading his home/school diary because his behaviour has become so challenging? Sometimes things just gradually creep up over time until you realise it has become overwhelming. One unpaid bill soon leads to another, one moment of shouting at your children soon becomes the norm, one day giving in to their food fads leads to constant demands for chocolate for breakfast. One day Isaac having one tantrum and finding it funny to kick something has lead to him repeating this behaviour often. One reaction from someone, negative or positive, has lead to challenging behaviours becoming a daily occurrence. One day having mashed potato for dinner leads to constant demands for the same food to be repeated. Then one day we had no mashed potato left.

So that was how I ended up with bruises and scratches on my neck from my five year old autistic son.

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As I find myself in yet another meeting with professionals discussing my daughters personal needs regarding going to the toilet I once again wonder to myself, how exactly did we get here?

With only 7 weeks left until she finishes nursery and only 4 months until she starts school, yet here we are talking with a group of professionals about strategies that might help her come out of nappies. Did I ever think I would have 5 year old children still wearing nappies day and night? No. Did I ever think I would need professional help to potty train a child? No. Did I expect both my children to have additional needs? Not at all. She seemed so perfect at birth. And later on I just thought she was slow to walk. In fact, I had very few concerns about my little princess until she started nursery school at 2 and a half. It was quite a shock to realise that my beautiful blue eyed girl had autism, and with it bowel and bladder issues, high anxiety and gross movement difficulties. It is funny how you soon adjust to talking about your child to professionals like it is a daily occurrence. In fact, for me, it pretty much is a daily occurrence now. You get used to the paperwork, and the forms and constant phone calls. You even refer to some people on first name terms like you have known them since school. You learn to ignore some of their ideas, you learn to adapt other suggestions and you know who to chase up for the missing paperwork. You learn the talk and the lingo and the laws you need to quote. And even though it breaks your heart, you learn to call and order nappies for your school aged child because you know you are still going to need them. You’re on to the fourth attempt at potty training now and you know it is going to be, like everything else, a long journey ahead.

So that is how I am still discussing pants and toilet cards and reward charts for potty training my 5 year old.

How did we get here? I still ask that every time we visit yet another hospital, or visit the dentist or eye clinic as we do every six weeks, or when we now add in the ENT referral for Naomi. If the NHS did reward cards like MacDonalds do for their hot drinks I would be high on caffeine by now. It feels like we have our own parking space at the clinics these days.

Life happens. Sometimes it can feel overwhelming. Sometimes it is relentless. Sometimes you just find yourself in a place you never dreamt you would be. But it is ok. If someone had told me I would have been in any of these places this week when I first gave birth to my beautiful twins in 2008 I would have struggled to believe you. It is a journey. We cope with today, look to the future, pray, hope and keep on going. One day soon I will be back on the mountaintop celebrating with my children in some new amazing thing they have achieved. And I will enjoy it all the more for having been through these valleys.

And you know what, even in the great times I will still wonder, how did we get here?

How? Because through it ALL God is there. That is how I got here and that is how I will get out of here too.

(Naomi lost a lot of blood but was released from hospital that night and is now recovering. We have strategies in place at home and school to deal with Isaac’s behaviour and there is some minor progress towards toilet training one of the twins)