Mom, I’m Mater

Think you can guess her favorite by now? It isn’t Rudolph…it’s Frosty. Good ol’ Frosty the Snowman. Honestly, Rudolph in so many ways was my favorite holiday cartoon growing up. I used to love it when it came on TV during the holiday season! I remember, though, in some of our early days with autism, that we would watch Rudolph…and when we got to the Island of Misfit Toys scene, I cried…HARD. I felt so convicted; all my life growing up, I wanted a “normal” family--and not the setting-on-the-dryer kind of normal. I wanted to have a mom who I didn’t fear what would come out of her mouth; or would she throw something if a friend ever came over? (Very, very few did, by the way--for multiple reasons.) I wanted to not walk on eggshells around my mom. With my own family, I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. I really didn’t get my siblings, either, except for my brother. I was pretty much scared of my mom; scared of my middle sister; my dad was very distant. My oldest half-sister was not in my life after I turned seven (not her fault), so I don’t have many childhood memories of her. Misfits. Now…autism. Screaming jags, crying jags, violent behavior, and food allergies…landed right back in with the misfits I did. To my shame, it took watching Rudolph to make me realize how bitter I was and how little I accepted and loved the misfits God put in my life. But are they really misfits? Honestly…we all are, aren’t we? By God’s grace, He allows us to meet up with another misfit who “matches” us or our family. I love how we have a God who puts people in our lives…some don’t seem to fit really well at first, and maybe that person is meant to teach me something hard. I’ve had those moments. But He also puts people in our lives and knits relationships that make strong, amazing bonds…and sometimes it’s not at all who you would think it would be. As I type this, I’m smiling thinking of some of the people God put “in my way”, because He is omniscient. He knew I needed that person for some reason, or they might have needed me. Friends--no matter what, cherish the people God puts in your life. They are there for a reason and a season. Will we know right away why? Sometimes. I’m so thankful He moves perfectly. The older I get, the more I realize I am a fearfully and wonderfully made…misfit. I am. I am living in 2023, almost 2024--and by the time I type this it will be 2024--and what makes me happy? Crocheting. Gospel music. Church. Cooking, baking. Making jam. Reading…lots of reading! Going for walks. Praise our holy Father above, when I was able to start going for walks again after so many surgeries! I never watch TV--seriously. I’ve had people tell me they think I’m interesting. (That’s because they don’t see me at home, crocheting and drinking tea like a content octogenarian!) I feel, so much now, like I was born at least 50 years too late…but I also know God put me on earth for “such a time as this” (Esther 4:14). He put me here at the exact time He wanted me here, for the exact purpose He has for me. And He made me, in my own way, a misfit. With my being able to read fifth and sixth grade level books in kindergarten; love for crocheting; penchant for dropping archaic vocabulary words when I’m really angry (I’m serious--it’s such a confusing trait!); and let’s just mention my med allergies and all the joint surgeries I’ve had by age 51. Yeah…in my own way, I’m a misfit, too. So why, then, is autism so hard? Why does it feel so discordant? Because it’s not my normal--and if any of us were honest, we all need to admit that to some degree, if someone is different than us, it makes us a little uncomfortable. Most humans I know like some degree of predictability when it comes to other humans. Autism does not meet some of those criteria, bless it. And in the autism world, there’s a saying--“If you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.” Meaning this--man, are all people on the spectrum unique! They might have some similar characteristics--think of hand flapping, sometimes self-injurious behaviors, et cetera--but even then, their triggers might be different. The autism symbol is a puzzle piece. I wish…it was a snowflake. Because…after so many years, and it’s been two decades…I’m finally coming to terms with my special girl. Yes, she is puzzling. Confusing--to me. Oh, so confusing at times. But oh--with her quirks, her foibles, her uniqueness--she is as precious and unique, and in many ways as fragile, as the most beautiful snowflake. She shines bright in certain lights; she might blend in with many others…until you get up super close to her. Then you see just how intricate she is; how unique she is. In all honesty--it’s how we all are.