On this particular morning, several years ago, my Bible reading for the day took me to Romans 10:9-10, the Scriptures that lay out God’s path to salvation: to declare with one’s mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in one’s heart that God raised Him from the dead. The instructions are clear. What wasn’t so clear to me was how my son, who suffered with cognitive disabilities, would be able to meet these requirements. “How, LORD,” I asked, “is Myles gonna be able to receive salvation?”
Morning after morning I sought the Lord, questioning Him about the viability of His salvation requirements for people like my son who might not have the intellectual capacity to even understand what salvation means, let alone be able to make the decision to be saved. Yet, Scripture states that Jesus didn’t want that any should be lost. If that’s the case, I argued, what’s the plan for those who were unable to meet His salvation requirements as written?
I pleaded with God for days, asking Him for a solution that would allow my son to be able to spend eternity with Him, and to also know Christ as Savior while still on earth. I didn’t tell anyone else about my concerns or about the questions I’d posed to God. I kept the issue between me and Him.
During this season of questioning, a wise and trusted friend stopped by for a rare visit. As she prepared to leave, she casually mentioned, “It’s time for Myles to get saved.” We’d not been discussing salvation; I hadn’t shared with her my conversations with God. But He had chosen to answer my concerns through her. “Yes,” I responded, “but how?” “Share with him the Truth of who Jesus is. His spirit will understand.”
Photo credit: Aaron Burden on Unsplash.com.
His spirit will understand
Every night for weeks I shared with Myles the salvation story: that God loved him so much that He sent His Son Jesus to die for him. That Jesus rose from the dead and now wanted to live in his heart as his Lord forever. Then I asked, “Do you want Jesus to live in your heart?”
For weeks I asked and for weeks I got no response, no reaction, no evidence at all that Myles understood what I was saying or asking. Then, one night, as I shared about God’s love and Christ’s death and resurrection, Myles stopped chattering and quietly listened. When I asked if he wanted Jesus to live in his heart, he looked me in the eye and said “Yes.” He was clear and definitive. And, just like that, I knew my son was saved.
His spirit had understood
I realized at that moment that a disabled mind does not mean a disabled spirit. God has created each of us in such a way that we are ALWAYS accessible to Him. Psalm 139, the same Scripture that tells us how remarkably and wondrously God has made us, also confirms that God “knows” us (Psalm 139:1). He knows intimately the special needs journey our kids are on. The word translated in this portion of Scripture as “knows” also means that God can “make Himself known” to us (Hebrew word #3045, Old Testament Lexical Aids). God has created each of us such that He is “knowable” to all of us. There is nothing about us or that can happen to us, no matter what it looks like, that can prevent Him from reaching us (Psalm 139:7-10) or enabling us to know Him.
This is part of what it means to be “fearfully and wonderfully made”. The word “wonderfully” speaks to the fact that, in forming each of us, God has done “things which are beyond the bounds of human … expectations” (wonderfully, Old Testament Lexical Aids), things that are unfathomable, too wondrous for us to comprehend. Understanding that God’s Word could still minister to my son’s spirit—despite his perceived inability to understand—was one of those wondrous things that I had not comprehended.
Knowing that my son has the capacity to understand spiritual things has opened the door of discipleship for him. As the Lord has since instructed me to “rehearse the Word” in Myles’ ear, his knowledge of Scripture has increased; I believe his spirit has been strengthened and his faith has grown. (Faith comes by hearing the Word of God - Romans 10:17). My husband and I have established a morning devotional time for Myles—a time that’s committed to hearing the Word and how it applies to him, and prayer. We are trying to do our part to train him as a disciple of Christ.
So, why am I sharing all this? It’s not to tell you that you have to walk your child through the same salvation process. I believe Myles’s story of salvation was as much for me as for him. The Lord knew my desire to “see” my son receive salvation so He honored that. He loves us that much.
My desire in sharing this story is to remind and encourage you (and me) that God’s care for our kids is boundless. They are always within His reach. Regardless of special needs or disabilities, our kids can know the Lord for themselves. That’s who our God is. That’s what His Word promises. He wants that none should be lost. He NEVER leaves us nor forsakes us.
On tough days, when things look bad and my heart is grieving for all Myles has had to endure, I’m encouraged to remember that God has been with him every step of the way—ministering (I believe) life and grace and peace and joy to Myles in a way that I never could. Jesus knows exactly what Myles needs in the moment (even when I don’t/can’t) and provides for that need.
And, in doing so, He provides for the needs of this Momma’s heart as well. And all I can say is, “Thank You Jesus! I’m so grateful.”
Sandy and her husband of 31 years live in New Jersey, and have 3 young adult children: two daughters and a son. Sandy became a special needs mom 21 years ago after her son contracted an illness as a toddler. She quit her job to become his full-time caregiver and advocate. Sandy works now as a Certified Professional Coach with a focus on coming alongside other special needs parents—empowering them to make choices that will enable them and their families to live the most joy-filled and purposeful lives possible on their unique special needs journey. You can learn more about Sandy, her work and her blog on her website—www.UNDisabledLIVES.org. You can also reach her at Sandy@UNDisabledLIVES.org.
