Tears came to my eyes as I watched the other little boys in the classroom running around, playing a competitive game of tag. With laughter and giggles spilling out across the play area, the boys chose who was “it.” I watched in awe as they ran, mesmerized by all of the activity. There were other children too, playing with brightly colored toys, happily chatting away, interacting with their peers, and mostly ignoring us adults in the room. Only occasionally asking one of us for a drink or a snack. I looked over and found my little guy Eli huddled in the corner, present but in his own little world. Eli wasn’t playing with any of the toys surrounding him or interacting with the other kids, and this was breaking my heart. His autism diagnosis was still so fresh, and I could feel the tears building up, threatening to spill out of the corners of my eyes. Something had to be done, and FAST! My heart raced rapidly, just as quickly as my body temperature rose. Oh boy! I was entering the danger zone, sensing that full-blown sobs were only moments away. Digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands, I desperately tried to distract my heart from processing the scene unfolding in front of me. Thankfully this time, the panic inside blew over as quickly as it came, and I could smile my way through. For now, the moment was over, and time was moving forward, although peace was far from my heart.
Arriving home shortly after, my husband Eric met us at the door. He could see that I was visibly distressed as he picked Eli up, and we walked inside. Of course, by the time I set my purse down on the cupboard, the tears were pouring down my cheeks, and I was crying uncontrollably. As I began to try and explain what had unfolded earlier, regret began to enter my heart. This was not how I wanted Eli’s and my day to end, and I certainly didn’t want him to see me again upset. Eric stood silently and listened intently, as he usually did. He comforted me, held me, and asked me one simple question. Did I have faith? Faith that someday Eli was going to something AMAZING. He was going to play! WHAT? Was he not here in this room with me, and had he not just listened to my concerns? Witnessed my tears? What did faith have to do with this? Kids were climbing on the walls today, and I’d barely held it together! What in the world did he mean? Exasperated and unable to process his words, I retreated.
What did Eric know, anyway? Deciding to ignore his wisdom, I bolted into the bathroom and drew a bath, choosing to soothe my aching soul with warm water instead of having faith. The water moved, up and down, just like tiny waves. I watched them intently when Eric popped his head into the bathroom, reminding me about the mustard seed verse. The verse about FAITH. He even had it highlighted on his phone and read it aloud. Annoyance bubbled inside of me as he closed the door. His exit left me pondering my faith. Was it the size of a mustard seed? My faith, just like those tiny waves, was wavering, going up and down. God wasn’t done with this family just yet, and we needed him now more than ever.
Later that evening, I pondered Eric’s words. Sometimes, especially in times of sorrow, I’m unable to speak and only able to cry. So often, my faith is so small and as tiny as that mustard seed. Thankfully life wasn’t slowing down anytime soon; it was moving on. Showing us that amazing moments happen because we serve an AMAZING God. Nowadays, my heart soars with happiness when I walk into a room, watching my little boy with his action figures. Moving them around in the air, PLAYING!!!! This is the place where faith has taken our family. A place of beauty and peace, and a place where I’m able to sing, “God is so good, he is so good to me.”
- A Life Without Limits: Rollin’ Into The Future
- Debbie Waltz
- Faith to the Rescue – Guest Blog Post
- Released Date: April 29, 2022
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