Every believer in Christ has a story to tell—a testimony to the grace of God. No two stories are the same, but there is one thing that holds true to every one. That is the wonderful work of redemption. The circumstances leading us to redemption and the lives we live afterwards may vary, but the same fascinating miracle in every story concerns God and the ultimate sacrifice demanded by His love and holiness—the life-blood of His beloved Son.
My story is not a tale of a broken past with hardship and sufferings. I didn’t endure loss or pain. I had a rather normal and happy childhood. My parents were not divorced. My relationship with my sister was not unlike the usual sibling upsets.
We were a Catholic family who attended church at Christmas and Easter, and a few times during Lent. I was taught at home, in school, and at church that good people didn’t go to hell. If you led a a decent life and made regular confessions to the priest, you had nothing to worry about. Sin was not the issue, neither was it the focus. There was the underlying idea that the Bible was God’s Word, but only the priest knew what to do with it. We never had one at home; the priest told us what we needed to know. So I came to have a belief in the Bible as God’s Word but never read it. I believed in Jesus as God’s Son but had no idea what the Cross was all about. Up until the night I was saved, I don’t ever recall giving any serious thought as to what would happen to me after death.
I think I fulfilled my parents’ expectations of being a good child and on through my teenage years. I rarely talked back, never smoked, partied, stayed out late, dropped out of school or even failed a grade. I wasn’t a drinker or curser and abstained from pre-marital sex (for which I thank God). Yet I was ignorant of my most important need.
Then a high school friend told me that every sin—no matter how great or small in our eyes—demanded the punishment of death in the lake of fire forever. She told me that, without a Saviour, I was not going to heaven. She told me that this was all written in the Bible.
My first reaction was: “Why didn’t the priest tell me that?!” She then shared with me the way of salvation. Like a child, I believed. We prayed together at 4 am at that birthday sleepover when I was 17 years old.
I thank God for the Ritchie family in whose home I was saved. They accepted me as one of their own children, taking me to meetings of the nearby assembly. They taught me about baptism, headship, and worship. They discipled me until I was married and moved away. They are still a very big part of my life through prayer.
THREE PRECIOUS BOYS
I told you I didn’t have a past of pain and suffering. That all came after my salvation. The Lord by His grace prepared me for what was to come.
It wasn’t a hard thing to accept when our first son was diagnosed as hearing impaired, and was fitted with two hearing aids. We were able to enroll him in a great school for his special need. Now he is enrolled in a normal school with normal kids his age. He gets along with only some minor difficulties.
My concern grew over my second son, Andrew. At first we thought he also might be deaf because of his lack of response. But other symptoms hinted at deeper problems.
As I sat in the neurologist’s office, my suspicions were confirmed. The doctor told me that Andrew was autistic. Evidently the doctor didn’t feel that the seriousness of the problem was registering with me, because he took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said in measured tone, “This is going to be hard.” I’ll never forget those words.
Autism is a neurological disorder in which children cannot connect socially with those around them. They often don’t talk until age 5 or 6, sometimes later. In other cases they never learn to talk. They will often stimulate themselves with intense, repetitive, fixated behaviors called “stimming,” such as hand flapping. They have no concept of danger or boundaries, and would run in front of a car if not restrained. Other common characteristics are very poor sleep habits, fecal smearing, and tantrum fits where there is a change in the smallest detail of a routine or environment. There often seems to be no explanation for the tantrum fits.
Andrew was diagnosed at the most severe end of the Autism Spectrum. Then, a year later, we were faced with the grim fact that Ethan, our youngest son, was behaving similarly to Andrew. We couldn’t deny it any longer: Ethan was autistic as well.
WHEN YOU PASS THROUGH THE FIRE
I’m not going to suggest that I accepted things happily and thanked God for the state that we were in, because I wasn’t happy. And although I told others that God was in control and I believed He would get us through, I had my bouts of despair. I questioned God. When, after a long day, I was up for six hours each night with the boys, and cleaning up smears, I would cry out, “Where are You, God?” It was more than just hard. It became unbelievably overwhelming at times. And it still is.
I questioned God, but I knew He was there for me. One difficult night I cried over the lack of sleep and the inconsolable crying from my usually-happy, blue-eyed, tow-headed boy. After getting a couple hours of sleep, I awoke in the morning to find the Choice Gleanings for the day. It was set out for me by a very kind and understanding husband. The verse read, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning” (Ps. 30:5). I had to laugh when I saw that.
In my questioning, I have learned. It is through fire that gold is refined, and I am being refined. I have learned not to ask, “Where are You, God?” but to ask, “How can I use this to glorify You?” I have learned to rely on His strength after those sleepless nights when faced with a busy day of therapy appointments. He always comes through.
I have learned to see that these boys, in their own way, may be like Andrew the apostle (for whom our son was named) in bringing people to the Lord. I have learned that the Lord has entrusted these boys to our care for a while. I believe that He created them for us, and us for them.
When I think of my troubles, I think on the sufferings of Christ and know that He is no stranger to sleepless nights and troubled children. As unaware as I was of what would come after my salvation, I know that the Lord was fully aware of the Cross during His time here on earth. He knew the agony He was to suffer and the load He was to bear. He was to take the wrath of God which we deserve. In love and obedience He hung there for us.
THE DEBT I OWE
Going door to door last summer, a group of us from our chapel conducted surveys and gave out gospel booklets. When asked, “What would happen to you if you were to die tonight?” most people answered, “I don’t know. I never thought about it.” That sounded just like me before I heard the gospel.
So I have an obligation, a debt, since I’ve been told of my need for the Lord Jesus. I must tell others of their need, as well.
1 Peter 1:6-7 has been a real encouragement to me in the difficult times. Perhaps it will strengthen you, too: “In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it be tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”