Today started out as a delightful day for me. The last
really warm day for the season, most likely, I joined a friend at the park so
our kids could play. We both had a lot on our to-do lists but snow is in the
forecast this week so seizing the moment seemed a good idea. After getting
home, I worked my way through that list and was feeling on top of things.
Then the phone rang. It was Michele, my son’s special
education teacher, and immediate I could hear it in her voice. Something was
wrong. I asked, as I often do, “Is he having a tough day?” With autism there
are sometimes just days when his emotions are closer to the surface or his odd
behaviors more prevalent. She said he was and started to tell me about the two,
very different events that had impacted Ryan’s day, both connected by one thing—autism.
Ryan |
In Ryan’s reading class, his teacher had been reading aloud.
Now, you need to understand that kids with autism have difficulty understanding
figures of speech. Say, “it rained cats and dogs” and they look for pets. Today
it was his teacher reading the sentence, “He was a god in high school.” Ryan
freaked out. He interrupted, loudly, saying that he could not listen to this
story. He declared, getting more and more agitated, “I am a Christian and there
is only one God!” The teacher tried to explain but he could not let it go. “There
is only one God!” They had to take him to the special ed room to calm down.
Michele patiently explained to him the non-literal nature of what the sentence
meant.
This story made me laugh. It made me feel that Ryan was
getting the essentials of our faith firmly grounded enough in his mind and his
heart that he protested heresy. And yes, I knew that his disruption was not
appropriate and that he needed to understand what the sentence meant. But in
this outburst was the truth he knew was worth arguing over—my faith is
important enough to defend and there is only one God. Both of those are huge.
But next Michele went on to tell me about the second
incident that disrupted Ryan’s day. At lunch time, Ryan eats and then goes
outside into the courtyard to walk around. He gets lost in his own imagination
and paces while enjoying the sunshine. That’s always made me a little sad for
him. He has no friends. But since he has autism, that fact doesn’t bother him.
It bothers me more. But nevertheless, this is his routine and what helps him
cope with a day full of sensory input and noise and kids who do not function in
the world like he does. The solitude helps him reset to take on the rest of the
day.
Today, he was followed out by four boys, one of whom already
had been in trouble for picking on Ryan in math class. They picked up his lunch
sack and began a cruel game of keep-away. At that moment, Michele just happened
to walk out into the hall by a window. She says it was luck. I know it was God.
She saw Ryan yelling at them to stop and give him the sack and them laughing as
he got more upset. As she told me this part of the story, her voice cracked and
we both began to cry at the same time. She said she went out and put a stop to
it and took all four boys to the office. She got Ryan calmed down in her room
and left the troublemakers to the principal.
The principal is new this year. I’m still getting to know
him. What I found out about him today earned him
some respect. When he found
out about this bullying behavior, he was incensed. Michele told me when she
left the office he was threatening to have them arrested for harassment. I
called to make sure that wasn’t the punishment. While I was hurt for my son and
angry at these thoughtless kids, I wanted to voice my opinion that the punishment
should fit the crime.
I had a nice talk with the principal and I heard from the
secretary that he had indeed put the fear of God in the boys as there were some
tears. The boys were not arrested but were made to apologize to Ryan,
individually and given some consequences along with the promise should it
happen again, handcuffs and the school police officer would be involved.
As the day ended, I walked up to school to walk Ryan home. I
had spent some time that afternoon crying for my son. I hurt for him. And I was
struggling with my fears for his future, always near the back of my mind. My
friend, Chelsea so wisely reminded me that Jeremiah 29:11 applies to Ryan too. “’For
I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you and not
to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” NIV
Ryan was fine when I got there. He was calm as we walked
home and I asked him about his day and the lunch incident. Sometimes his autism
means he can’t let things go. This was not one of those times. He was fine with
the boys apologizing to him the next day. He said he wanted to make sure their
parents knew what they had done. We talked too about the reading class moment.
He said, “I forgot to take my break in the squeeze machine before class. I
think that’s why I got upset.” Sometimes he is very self-aware. I explained
figures of speech again and he seemed ok with it.
At dinner, Ryan prayed and thanked God for a good day and
asked that tomorrow would be a little better. It was all I could do not to cry.
In my heart I thanked God that the day’s events hadn’t wounded my special son
more. Life can be cruel. But Ryan and my friend are both right—there is one God
and He holds the future in His hands…even with autism.