Challenging Transitions

     Yesterday I took our twenty year old son, Jeremy, to visit the place where he is to begin working in January.  It was a momentous occasion for both of us.  December 16th will be Jeremy's last day in the public school system ~~ a place of safety and comfort for both of us.   Emotionally I was coming to grips with the reality that my job of raising Jeremy was almost complete.  My thoughts were wildly churning as I grappled with conflicting emotions. 

     Jeremy, too, was having  some trouble processing this new change.  At first I saw signs of excitement and eagerness on Jeremy's face.  He smiled and quietly chuckled to himself as we strolled into the building with our case manager, Dan.  Then we signed in and received a "visitor badge" that required nimble fingers to attach.  Jeremy did this, but expressed slight anxiety when he asked,  "Wear it right here?!"  "Yes, it looks good, Jeremy," I reassured my son. 

     As we walked through this facility several young adults walked right up to our group, enthusiastically stuck out their hands and said,  "Hi, what's your name?  Nice to meet you!"  You see, these young adults were people just like Jeremy ~~ special in their own way.  I could see that Jeremy enjoyed these short interruptions =)  He looked around as we made our way along, visiting several stations with groups of workers doing a variety of jobs.  The position Jeremy is slated for actually involves the assembly of medical lab kits.  There will be ten to co-workers alongside Jeremy with two supervisors close by.  This team seems to work more quietly than some of the other teams ~~ probably a very good fit for Jeremy.  I find myself a little more at peace at this point.  But then I learn that sometimes there is 'down time' when the group is waiting for more supplies to arrive from the parent company which can last a few days or even a couple of weeks.  Immediately I register more questions in my mind with silent alarms ringing in my head.

     "Jeremy needs structure and activity!" For many people with autism, inactivity breeds boredom and boredom breeds what professionals call "self-stimulation" activities.  You know, the wiggling of fingers in front of their faces, constant rocking, muttered phrases which make little sense except to the speaker, and so on.  We've spent years working to erase those impulses from our son!  Focus really means,  "Stay in this world, Jeremy!  Do not 'stim'!  Attend to your tasks so that you can move beyond your autism!"   I resolve to keep my emotions in check, although Jeremy seems to have radar and is able to sense even my tiniest stress.

     When we return home I head upstairs to rest. I want to be alone for awhile to process today's events, and, I may need to cry.  Trudging upstairs, my heart is heavy and my head hurts from all the questions running around my brain.  Lying on my bed I cry out to God,  "Why didn't you heal Jeremy from his autism?  Didn't You promised to make him well?!  Now he's twenty and still has autism!  What will become of Jeremy as he grows older?"  Silent tears run down my face as I ponder my feelings and thoughts.  Then I hear a small, still, and silent whisper to my heart that says,  "Trust me.  I am in control, not you."  Immediately my heart begins to quiet and my spirit starts to rest.

     Hebrews 11: 1 says,  "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."  So I ask myself where is my faith coming from?  Myself or God?  For sure I am prone to taking charge and making things happen.  So my often my faith surely rests in myself.  But deep inside I know that I am only Jeremy's caretaker.  I'm really not in control of his future well-being.  Rick and I can make our plans, but ultimately God is who leads us in our decisions.  And I begin to remember all those times when we happened upon various therapies, changed schools and even moved at the prompting of our hearts.  Yes, I reason.  I may not be completely at peace, but I do know that this is the right direction we're to take with Jeremy at this juncture in his life.   

      I now brace myself for the future.  Deep inside I know there will be trials as we navigate this new road of employment.  But I can also rest in my spirit knowing that my faith means abandoning all trust in my own resources to instead rely on those things I cannot see like God's promises, His provisions and His continued love for Jeremy.