They say he has autism ...

... but I still say he's my "Supernova."

It's been a while since I've written.  Too much going on, too much to process.

... everyone's an expert.  "Be your child's advocate!"  "Vaccines caused this!"  "Change his diet!"  "Why didn't you (or the doctors) notice/act sooner?"

... or on the flip side, "He's a perfectly normal little boy!"  "There's nothing wrong with him!"  "He's going to have a label for the rest of his life!"

All right, people, enough already.  He is our son.  God entrusted him to us for a reason.  And I'm hurting right now.  I'm grieving.  My dreams for him are dead.  He's the same child he always was, but ... I'm not the same parent I was yesterday.  This is what I need you to understand.

He is fearfully and wonderfully made.  He doesn't need fixing.  But he does need help -- this world is not going to change for him.  And I need help ... I'm not cut out to do this on my own.

No one is.

Know this: God designed my son for His glory.  My dreams are not necessarily God's dreams for him.  God will show His strength through our weaknesses.  But it still hurts.  The labels, the assumptions, the criticisms. 

Meanwhile ... God's opening my eyes to the "lesser told" stories of Autism and Asperger's.  Temple Grandin. John Elder Robison.  And then I find myself reconsidering ... Moses.  He was temperamental, socially awkward, and "didn't speak well."  Hmm.  Is it possible that God hard-wires certain individuals with a social "manual transmission" for a reason?  Perhaps my son is meant to be this way. 

For now ... I will continue to seek His guidance on how to raise my son.  My peace comes from the One who willingly gave up His own son.  By His strength, I continue.