I think acknowledging that my son, my precious, perfect, firstborn, Steven falls into the category of “disabled” has been one of the hardest things to swallow.  Every time I say, “My son is in the Public Preschool for Disabled children”, or “my son rides the bus for disabled children” I have to fight the knot in my throat and try to act un-affected.

See, I was certainly never one of those kids that teased “different” people.  My mother wouldn’t have allowed that for one second.  But, I can vividly remember almost every kid in school who was disabled.  I never KNEW them, but I’d seen them.  I was afraid of them...the strange walk, the wheelchair, the helmet,, the slurred words, the lack of eye contact, the awkward hand movements, the way they stumbled a little.  I didn’t dislike them, but I didn’t seek to SEE them.  I avoided them...didn’t look right at them, didn’t try to talk to them, definitely prayed I’d never get stuck alone with them. 

Fear.  That’s all it was.  Fear, because I didn’t understand them and wouldn’t know what to do or say if something unexpected happened.  Don’t ask me what I thought would happen, but I certainly wasn’t going to be around to find out.  So, I’d just avoid them at all costs and that was the extent to which I thought of them.

The one thing I’d always been thankful for concerning my children or my nieces & nephews was, “thank God they are healthy”.  Maybe it was because I was AFRAID of what it would mean if they weren't “healthy”.  Maybe it was just that I truly was thankful for a “full” life.

So, when the doctor said “autism”, all my fears slapped me in the face. 

Now, my precious Steven would be one of those children other people would avoid, would stare at, would be AFRAID of.  This….is hard to swallow.

Every time I see a disabled person, my heart drops.  Knowing our connection.  Knowing others will never see Steven the way I do, but will see his disability instead and be AFRAID.

But, my heart is changing.  Today, a precious girl (disabled) waited on my table in her sweet, awkward way.  I looked her right in the eye and asked her how her day was.  In that second, I knew it.  God is changing me.  I’m not afraid of her.  I’m not afraid of getting stuck in a 10 minute conversation in which I don’t understand half of it.  She is just as precious to God (more) as my Steven is to me.

I pray God will continue to change me and hopefully those in Steven’s life.  Value is not about being athletic, social, or even being normal.  It is based on God’s view of us and He made us.  The untainted love I feel for my Steven is a glimpse of the love of the Father.

If only we could always see through our Father’s eyes.