I watched him wandering, trying to find the group he was supposed to be in. I had seen him ambling aimlessly from the tent where the kids had been for their Bible lesson, so I had intercepted him as he tried to score a second snack for the night, and headed him in the direction of his group. I had removed a huge pile of grass from his head too--I was guessing he didn’t get much out of the Bible lesson.
He knew what a soccer game was, and what the objective of the game was, but with all the distractions of the other kids and the great outdoors around him, he was unable to focus enough to actually play the game. He lay down in the middle of the field, fortunately away from where the kids were running and kicking the ball. Not the safest thing to do in the middle of a soccer field where a game was being played. Then the game headed in his direction, someone almost tripped over him, and he jumped up. He alternated between experimenting with pulling his pinny over his face (it‘s fun to look through the mesh at the altered perspective of the world through a red pinny), then running madly around the field chasing one of his teammates. He wasn‘t coordinated enough to be able to get a kick in at the ball, though he did try a few times when one of his coaches attempted to show him how to play “defense.” But the other kids were faster and kept the ball away from him. He quickly lost interest when he was unable to get to the ball.
Our church does a soccer camp for school-age children instead of a Vacation Bible School for those ages. Somewhere in the muddle of my smallest one‘s attempt at the First Night of Soccer Camp, I made the decision that this would be his first and last night of soccer camp for the year. He just was not ready, even for the youngest group. By the end of the week, he would either wander away and get lost, or place himself squarely in harm’s way and get hurt.
I was still weary from unpacking after a (very lovely) vacation at the beach. I was frustrated with trying to figure out where this boy fit. He had done okay at Bible School last year, (at least not getting lost or hurt) but he had been somewhat confined indoors at Bible School. Less opportunity for random wandering and physical injury. But this year, he was too old for Bible School. I had asked if the organizers would make an exception because of his autism, but the answer had been “no.”
As I watched my little boy in various group settings in the last few months, I was observing that he seemed to need a one-on-one adult, or at least an adult sitting close by to keep an eye on him, in almost all situations where he was part of a large group. That is a lot to ask--volunteers for Bible School, Sunday School, and Awana groups are almost always at a premium. I myself am pretty well fried from homeschooling for the last 8 years, from trying to stay a step ahead of my little guy 24/7, and the challenges that go with living with a mental illness. There is no way I have it in me to volunteer for a group of kids at this time in my life. And it felt unfair to me to send a high maintenance child to an activity that I am not able to volunteer to help out with. I’ve done it at various times, but always with some guilt hanging over my head.
I began to run over the options of fun things I could do with him to soften the blow of pulling him from soccer camp after the first night. I had thought about trying to send him to another Bible School, from another church, where they would have a class for his age. But I was not sure. Likely he would be with a group of kids and adults who don’t even know him. He would need close supervision, if not his very own volunteer. Arrgh...what to do? But soccer camp was definitely not the answer.
As I was pondering the looming question of “what to do with the youngest boy?” our pastor, in heading to a point beyond me on the field, intersected with my path. I was asked the inevitable question of “how are you doing?” which I hate to answer when I am not happy (i was quite grumpy at that point). It feels dishonest to answer with a smile and “I’m fine! isn‘t it a beautiful evening?” when I am not so great at the moment and the evening‘s beauty is lost on me for the time being. But it also seems rude to answer a pleasantry with “well, I am tired and irritated right about now.” This time, honesty won out, and we spent several minutes discussing the challenge of figuring out where this boy would best fit into church activities for children of his age.
Our church is large, and the children’s activities generally involve big groups of kids. This obviously presents an ongoing difficulty for a child who does not do well in a large group. Another difficulty is the fact that, although he is six years old, quite tall for his age (he is taller than two of my nieces who turn eight this summer) and precocious in some things (those things that he enjoys with a single minded focus that makes him a little expert ahead of his time), his maturity level reminds me of where my other two children were at about four to five years old (he needs very clearly defined boundaries--almost like a toddler at times, and still needs to be watched closely when he is in unfamiliar territory, due to not knowing where danger lies and his tendency to wander off and become absorbed in his own world).
I had been a bit hurt and frustrated when I found out that he would not be able to attend Bible School with the younger children. In spite of his autism and the fact that he was not ready for soccer camp, the age rule was firmly in place. But I also understand that there are times when rules can be adjusted to make room for special situations, and that there are times when it is not advisable to do so. I was not in charge of the Bible School; so in spite of how i felt about it, I tried to give the benefit of the doubt to those who were. However, it still left me hung out to dry, with a little boy who understood that for some reason he was not accepted--everybody else was going to Bible School or Soccer Camp--but with not enough understanding to know why.
I was a bit hesitant to air my frustrations to the pastor--he was not in charge of soccer camp and Bible School, though he did help out with them at times. But even though he wasn’t in charge of them, it was an area that he had oversight of; and I did not want to be insulting or come across as accusing him of doing a poor job. I think that he does a very good job. I didn’t need to worry though--he was pretty understanding of my dilemma due to what he remembered from the time his wife worked with autistic children. He understood where we were coming from--there seemed to be a place for everyone else...but not my little guy. Although I had been assured by the Bible School organizer that it wasn’t a personal rejection, that they were just abiding by the age rule; to a little boy who was not able to engage with--or safely participate--in the activities for his age group, it was a rejection of sorts, whether it was meant to be or not.
But as I talked, another question rose in my mind too. Why was I hurt and angry? What debt was owed to me? What made me feel entitled to having the program adjusted for my child? What made me feel entitled to someone, anyone, understanding the difficulty in helping him to interact with his peers? Why did I feel entitled to being able to find a place for him at our church, in the children‘s activities? No one person or organization can meet everyone’s need.
Could it be that the church owes me nothing? Christ has paid all for me on the cross. Yes, the Bible says that as Christians, we are known by our love...but that does not mean that just because I am a church member, that I am owed love or understanding by the other members. If God chooses to meet our needs through people in our home church, that is wonderful. But maybe He will not choose to work through them, this time.
Those who give love, kindness, and understanding, give it freely just as Christ gave freely when He died on the cross. But when I expect it, I set myself up for disappointment. We are all human and there will be times we will let others down, intentionally or unintentionally. There will be times when, no matter how good the program, it will not meet the needs of everyone. I would be better off to be grateful when I do receive kindness, understanding, and acceptance, but not to expect it. God is bigger than one church. He will take care of my needs.
But at least I had received understanding, even if there was still no good way to blend this kiddo into our church’s summer kids’ activities. As the pastor and I chatted, we also watched my son continue to make a pretty good case for his not being ready for a rousing game of soccer with his peers. But it was suddenly okay. I was still sad that my little guy felt rejected from Bible School, and I knew I was going to add insult to injury at the end of the night when I told him he couldn’t do soccer camp for this year. But God had sent someone to hear and understand, even though the ongoing dilemma of trying to find a place for my boy in his world was still going to be there from time to time.
This listening and trying to understand...this certainly must be a big part of “bearing one another’s burdens.” It lightened the burden that had been resting heavily on me.
And, the next night, a little church just out the road from our house began their Bible School. I knew a few people who attended there, but had never visited it. I had seen their VBS sign as I traveled to and from home the last few days, and realized that this might be an answer to my little guy’s longing to go to Bible School. It was.
This new Bible School is a small Bible School, for all ages of elementary school youngsters, and all indoors. (Small groups with little chances for escape are awesome.) The pastor who welcomed us the first night said that there were two other Bible School students with autism, and that it was no problem to have my son there. They were familiar with some of the issues that arise, and they would keep an eye on him.
When I picked my little boy up at the end of the night, he was beaming. He announced that he was definitely going back for the rest of the week. When I asked the pastor how the evening went, he said my son was very well behaved and they had no problems with him.
God is bigger than just one church. No matter how many ministries and programs there are, He always ministers through people. People, not programs. Lots of people get lost in programs. People with mental illness, little boys with special needs, people who have physical illnesses or handicaps, elderly people who can’t always make it to church anymore, and anyone else who doesn’t quite fit--all of them quickly get lost in a program. But people who take the time to see the uniqueness of the person--those are the people who make all the difference to someone looking for a glimpse of Jesus and His love.
And once again, God sent just the right people at just the right time; in their kindness, i saw a glimpse of Jesus and His love for me, and His love and provision for this little boy He entrusted to my care.
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