A sunbeam, streaming in through the kitchen window, rests on Joel. Light shimmers around him. As the music plays, he slowly looks around the table, looking each of us in the eye with his beautiful, baby blues. (Who says autism means no eye contact?!). His grin says it all: I have a gift for you! Please listen!
How Centering Prayer Saved My Life
Nothing I did as a mom seemed to help my son. None of the therapies; none of the love; none of the counseling—personal, marital, and family. Nothing could “fix” our son. But daily, as I sat and whispered Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus, the Lord showed up. He let me know that I was more than Joel’s mom, Matt and Justin’s mom, Wally’s wife. I belonged to God. I was rooted and grounded in God. My life had purpose. My true self began emerging.