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)

I’m still here, and I still love you

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Though you have just this minute screamed so loud in my ear that my entire head is ringing. I still love you. Though you have laid on the floor hitting your head in anger and frustration, throwing everything in sight about, I still love you. When you bang the table and spin your dinner plate in annoyance because I am not cooking your dinner fast enough, I still love you. When I lifted you to safety because you were about to walk head first into the corner of the kitchen work top and you rewarded me by biting me. Even in that moment, when the pain went right through me, I never stopped loving you. When you wake me up screaming and making noise in the smallest of the small hours through the night and I find myself getting frustrated and exhausted. When I roll you over, whisper in your ear quietly and give you your dummy once again because I know you need to try and sleep. Even in the middle of the night I’m still here. And I love you. I love you in all your pain, in all your frustrations, in all your laughter and in all your flapping and chest beating. I love your quirky ways and sense of humour. Even when it seemed, during the 276 days you solidly and religiously only wore your school jumper every day (yes even on Christmas day) I was sighing inwardly. I love how you thought it so funny to wear a blue top, just like that, after so long, only to go right back to only wearing that same red jumper again every single day. Even when I could cry, or I walk away to gather my patience once again. Even when I put you on the naughty step or take you to your room, even when I tell you ‘finished’ and ‘no’, even when it seems like I am the last person you feel cares, right then, I’m still here. And I still love you.

When you stamp your feet at me, shout at me and demand of me, and I tell you off for being rude or cheeky. Right there, at that moment when you want to walk right away from me and never talk to me again, right at that precise moment, I still love you. When you play with your toys and accidentally smash my favourite mug, or spill hot tea everywhere, or pull the toy right at the bottom of the pile knocking boxes of various things flying across the room. When my mouth says ‘stop that right now’ or ‘that’s it’ or ‘I’ve had enough’, my heart is still full of love even when my emotions get the better of me. When you wake up in the middle of the night from a scary dream and you call out my name. It doesn’t matter if I am not right there in your room. I am still here, and I still love you. When things are tough at nursery, when you just can’t seem to speak or work through your anxieties, when your one and only friend is not in that day and your heart sinks, I might not be holding your hand, but I am right there. When the dentist visits again and you instantly have flashbacks to the trauma of having your teeth coated with fluoride and how the very taste made you vomit because you could not bring yourself to spit out the excess stuff, I am right there. I have gone before you and prepared a way out. When I know it will just be too much for you I ticked that box that said ‘I do not wish my child to take part’. Because I love you. And I know how much you can bare. When I ask you to be quiet in full conversation because the phone just rang and you get frustrated because you didn’t get to finish what you wanted to say, when I push you to try on pants again when you would rather stay in nappies, when I get you to try and dress yourself when you would prefer I did it for you, it is all because I care. When you are struggling to pull those trousers and pants up when you have just sat in the toilet and you feel I have left you alone in your embarrassment and shame, I haven’t. I am watching, praying, pushing, stretching you and helping. I’m still here. And I love you. In the tears and the frustrations, in the moments you want to be alone, in the moments you are afraid or worried, in the moments of excitement and laughter, in all of those and more, I’m still here.

When the silence isn’t because we are a peace but rather because words have got lost in the stress of another long day. When you are leaving out one door as I am coming in from the other. When you can’t see any joy in the week through the stream of appointments and commitments. When the sum total of our kisses seem to be a quick peck on the cheek. When night and day become a non stop blur that never seems to end and intimacy is pulling the duvet closer around you. When the flame of love is a spark barely still flickering. When you have tripped over one stray toy too many, heard the same clip of dvd so often you are tempted to see if the dvd can be fried for lunch one day, and there is no longer any laughter at the dinner table. When you are still clearing away the dishes from the previous meal whilst I am cooking the next one. When you drive the car to get groceries and you are temped to sit in the car park for half an hour before going in just to get time on your own. When you have a head ache that has gone on so long you start to forget what it is like to no longer have one. When the only hand you hold is a young child’s to help them down the stairs when once you used to hold hands with your best friend and lover. When you dread the school holidays because you just don’t know what to do with the kids anymore. When your child wants pushed on the swing for so long you start to lose feeling in your arm and your chin is growing a beard while you stand there. When it seems hope is lost, the clouds will never move and the hill will never be conquered. In all those times I am still there. Still praying. Still holding on. Still loving you. We will get through this.

When you have given up on me. When you think all is lost. When hope seems a distant memory. When you sit in the middle of the floor when the children have gone to bed and the tears won’t stop. When your heart aches just to be close to someone. When you think you just can’t face another day…don’t despair my child. I know it is hard. I know some days you just feel so alone. But I need you to remember something, my precious one: I’m still here. And I still love you.

“Because you are precious in my eyes, …and I love you…for I am with you.” Isaiah 43:4-5
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matt 28:20
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases” Lam 3:22

The battles and the breakthroughs

I thank God for the mountains
and I thank God for the valleys
I thank him for the storms he brought me through
For if I’d never had a problem
I wouldn’t know that God could solve them
I wouldn’t know what faith in God could do
Andre Crouch song ‘Through it all’

Can I really thank God when I see my 5 year old son self harming? Seeing him bite his own hand as easily as he bites into a piece of fruit? Seeing his tears of sadness at the pain but yet having no understanding that he himself is causing it. Can I thank God for the intensity of crying and upset he displays every time I start to cook a meal because he has no concept of waiting or cooking? Or seeing the bruises and the seizures and the scars from his constant falls? Can I thank God as I watch his frustration at being unable to communicate or understand?

self harm    bites      movie31     holding isaac

There is no easy answers sometimes. But I know that without these moments of struggle, of battle in our lives, we really don’t appreciate the breakthroughs when they come. If your child has never self harmed you don’t thank God that they went four hours without biting themselves. If your child has fluent speech you take new words for granted. Because that isn’t a breakthrough for you. But for me these would be a miracles.

So I pray. And hold my son. And believe for breakthrough even when it seems impossible. I can’t give up hope. I can’t stop believing.

And to keep my focus I look for moments of peace. Moments of progress in both children that keep that hope and faith alive. Treasured moments in time that make me think about the future and the fact that there will always be tomorrow no matter how hard today seems.

Moments just like this:

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When Naomi had a visit from the Head Teacher of our local school to gift her a school bag in preparation for her starting in August. Oh be still my beating heart. Because this baby is growing up. Unlike her twin brother she has some understanding of what lies ahead. And we can ‘play’ school, read books about it, and even visit. To see her excitement rekindles that faith again. This little one does not think for a minute how her very existence is a miracle. She does not dwell on the support networks that will need to be in place to ensure she is fully supported in school. She sees a new bag, new clothes, new adventures. And I need some of that innocent faith of hers.

As I travel with these two little miracles there will always be battles, and bumps and moments when things look impossible. But their very existence was birthed on the belief in the God of the impossible. And so I thank God for every valley we travel through because it is in the valleys my faith is grown. And having been through many valleys I can testify that God is a God of miracles. and faith in God will carry us through…

This week I made my first ever film. In yet another week of heavy meetings, intense moments of holding my hurting son, yet beautiful moments of seeing excitement twinkle in the eyes of my daughter, I truly thank God for every battle and every breakthrough and for bringing me to this moment in time:
This is how we got to where we are now:

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aEGBjOAEIYo

Please continue to travel with us in this journey and experience the mountains and valleys we have yet to come.
Faithmummy x