(Pre Script)
Just a little update before we get into “the post”!
I got the results back from my son’s sleep study. “Boo” does not have sleep apnea. Matter of fact; he does not appear to have any sleep disorder! This is good news; because even though we now know for sure his sleep disturbances are actually seizure related - it eliminates the complications a sleep disorder would bring to the picture.
Another branch in the hedge has been pruned - we know now we don’t need to go down this road! On to the next branch!
Kids and Religion:
Well since this post is about kids and faith; I will openly admit that since the kid I know the most about is my own - this will mostly be about his journey. Granted, this child sees his world through the lense of Autism. Even so; I think many pearls of wisdom can be gleaned from our experience on this journey.
Most people want to raise their children in their own traditions - religious traditions or not. As for traditions; yeah, we celebrate all the “traditional (mass majority of) American(‘s) holidays”. We just try and keep it simple and leave it to the interpretation of what ever the individual wants to make out of it. At the heart of it though; traditions are not what’s important to me. My goal is not to raise my son in any religion. My goal is that he see there is a Father in heaven he can depend on. A God that he can have a relationship with; not just a bunch of rules to follow.
Discipline and Empowerment:
(Knowledge is Power)
Just like most of us when we were kids; “Boo’s” journey on this road started with “discipline”. Now granted that has a whole lot of connotations for a whole lot of different people. Me, being the insecure parent who had no idea what to do; read all the books on “discipline”. The vast majority of which - when whittled down to their base message - consisted of: “Be consistently punitive” (and give the kid a warning before you “correct” them”).
Well, I was consistently punitive; always giving “Boo” his warning. He never seemed to understand the warning though and just went about and did things anyways. Come to realize much later that even in neurologically typical children; that “behavior” has certain developmental components to it.
A child’s brain develops by input; so as soon as they figure out how to mobilize from one place to another - their out looking for input! Of course because the neurons in their brains are just beginning to pattern memory; the fact that they were told “no” two minutes ago doesn’t usually “stick” - even if they’ve demonstrated in a past situation that they know what the word “no” means. Very young children lack the ability to transfer a skill learned in one situation to other situations. As more neurons make their connections; children learn to master the transference of that skill. For Autistic kids though; the transference of skills remains problematic through out life. This is why Autistic children commonly have to be taught everything. They don’t just “pick it up”. Even in the neurologically typical child; attainment of language and attention remains a fluid process until good connections are laid down. So in a very real way the child may not actually know what “no” means at every opportunity it’s presented. (Parents of creepers and twaddlers - keep that in mind.)
As for my son, my goal was compliance; but what I “got back” was not an obedient child. It was an angry, sullen and fearful child. A child prone to episodes of self injurious behavior. (He used to slap his face with his hands and pound on his thighs with his fists.) A kid who’d frequently “melt down” and occasionally come out swinging. What ever lesson I thought I was trying to teaching him; he wasn’t “getting it”. He was almost 3 years old and I had a sinking feeling in my subconscious that I’d screwed something up. It wasn’t suppose to be like this!
Usually “church folk” weren’t much help; since most of them were doing the same things I was and their only advice was to do more of it and do it more consistently. (What ever that meant.) Here is where I think “Boo’s” neurological differences are a God send; they made momma wake up a little quicker to the fact that if I didn’t change paths real quick - I would create the child that I had been. Or yet worse; I’d create a juvenile delinquent.
Parents and the Child’s Perception of God:
I knew that it’s commonly said that most people’s perception of God originates with what kind of parents they had. Especially the concept of God the Father. The type of Father God is perceived as, usually gets tainted by our own negative human experiences with our earthly dads. The degree of pollution any individual’s concept of God may be sullied with, can very greatly. Usually the more punitive the religious family is; the more of a “bad rap” God gets. The problem; (as well as the fact of reality) is that parents are sinners and adults often screw things up. Years don’t always make us wiser and our kids can see that quite clearly. Parenting takes a great deal of humility!
So these were the things that were spinning around in the back of my head. As “Boo” got older and his disability became more pronounced. I knew any concept of God he’d ever come to understand was not going to come out of theological study; since he struggles greatly with processing language. No, anything he was going to learn; was going to come out of experience. This revelation of course, brought me to the question of: What was I going to teach him about God through my own character and actions? The need for a change of approach became obvious. My goal than became to care for “Boo” to the best of my ability; in the same manner as God cares for me. This meant I’d have to really hone the skill of being compassionate and understanding. I’d have to be gentle. I’d have to be thoughtful, creative, and unconventional. I’d have to “think outside the box” so to speak and I’d have to lead by example.
I knew at that point that corporal punishment was not effective with this child; nor was it turning out to be a very wise choice for myself. I was frustrated and angry and occasionally leaving bruises on “Boo” with my “no no sticks”. Finally I took all the wooden spoons off the stove and stuck them in a Good Will bag to go out with the next bundle of stuff. It wasn’t too much longer though when things at home would get to a breaking point and I’d leave with “Boo”.
My husband’s tolerance for dealing with his own frustration wasn’t any better than mine. He figured that once the kid was tired of having a sore bottom; he’d “get it”. That never happened though and I realized that if I didn’t do something; “Boo” was going to get hurt. So, one Sunday evening; after an intense day of arguing over (of all things) “Boo’s” blanket - my husband stormed out of the house; I called a domestic violence hotline and we went to a shelter.
We were in the shelter for about a month and after being permitted one evening’s deliberations with my husband; I decided we’d go back home. I had two conditions though that had to be met. He had to agree to counseling and verbally and physically unloading his frustration on “Boo” would not be permitted. I was pretty firm and distinct on my point that if he lost control of himself and started hitting “Boo”; I would call 911 and he would go to jail. He agreed to this and we went back home. Fortunately (most so for him) he was able to uphold his end of bargain.
In the midst of all the chaos of Social Services and Child Protective; I decided it was time for me to bravely face my own demons. When the investigator came to the door; I sat down with him in our kitchen and to this day still recall “Boo’s” reaction. The man introduced himself and began to explain why he was there. “Boo” was in the kitchen and could comprehend enough of what was said to come running up to me; crawling up into my lap and putting his hand over my mouth. “Mommy no talk.” he said. I calmed him down and explained to him that if things were ever going to get better; we had to talk. We can’t fix this if we don’t talk about it.
It was at that point I realized how very scared this child was. I had seen his fear at times when we were in the shelter. One day I’d taken him to the mall and called a friend of mine on my cell phone to arrange to meet with her. “Boo” was sitting in his push-chair with one of his blankets while I was talking on the phone. He had his head down with his blanket curled up close to him and at first I thought he was asleep. When I took a closer look though; he was staring at the carpet. I asked him if he was OK and he started to cry. I explained to him as best as I could gather that he’d understand; none of this was his fault and that mommy and daddy had some things they really needed to fix.
I had been told by a few “friends” of mine; that the only reason “Boo” was afraid is because I’d created all this instability in his life. I had taken him out of his home and away from his dad, into this place where all these “other people” did not have our best interests in mind. I’d almost believed that until we’d gotten back in the car after our mall outing to head back to the shelter. “Boo” asked if we were going home and I’d just first assumed he was talking about the home we’d left. When I tried to explain to him why; he interrupted me and said “No, the other home!” At that point I’d realized - “Boo” was talking about the shelter.
“And I will praise You in this storm
and I will lift my hands,
‘cause You are who You are; no matter where I am.
And every tear I’ve cried, You hold in Your hands;
You never left my side, although my heart is torn;
I will praise You in this storm.”
We’d only had a few CD’s in the car when we left that fateful Saturday afternoon. One of them was a Casting Crowns CD; of which I’d actually won on the radio about a month prior. The album was “Life Song”. “Boo” liked Casting Crowns and I’d called in to win the CD on account of that fact that he liked that one particular song. (Praise You in the Storm) Little did I realize that at the time I’d won the CD - that it wouldn’t be long before we would really need it. Strange as this sounds; I think God used the experience and the CD as a turning point in “Boo’s” life. Those times of course were a turning point in all of our lives. For “Boo” though; I think they were of great spiritual significance. He learned that God was available to lean on in times of trouble; even when the rest of the world forsakes you. God will take you up in His arms. We prayed a lot, we cried a lot and we sang a lot.
About a year would pass and “Boo” (and I) would get another “lesson”.
Faith in Action -
Repentance and Restoration:
The apartment we’d been living in was in need of repairs; so, we had to move. In the midst of packing up “Boo’s” room I found one more “no no stick”. (Later I’d find one other one in my room. That one got stuck in a box with a bunch of books of mine.) I thought and prayed for a long time about what to do with this “no no stick”. I could just throw it out and forget about it; but for some reason that didn’t seem to “cut it”. I thought it important that “Boo” know that I acknowledged that hitting him with them was wrong. I needed to apologize to him and I thought it important that I did not hide my sin against him from him!
I wasn’t sure what to do and Easter was coming up. I wanted to explain Easter to “Boo” and that death and resurrection was as much about changing people’s lives in the here and now; as it was about a future new heaven and new earth. After all; Jesus came to free us from our sin and give us victory in this present life.
So on Good Friday; I stuck this “no no stick” in my purse and took “Boo” up to a monastery that was in our area. Why I choose that particular spot - I wasn’t sure; other than it had a beautiful view out the front window. At first “Boo” was afraid to go into this place. We’d stopped going to church for at least the previous year; do to a string of bad experiences. Of which these bad experiences usually involved admonitions to me about “disciplining” “Boo.” It had gotten so bad that “Boo” was having anxiety attacks when we pulled into the parking lot of one particular church. After about the third time that had happened. I stopped, took one look at him, put my seat belt back on, turned the car around and left. Needless to say; we never went back to that church.
After I’d managed to coax “Boo” into the monastery (it was pretty cold outside) we sat in the front vestibule looking out the window at the rolling hills. We were only there a few minutes as he nervously squirmed around. Finally I began to explain to him why we were there. I told him I needed to talk to him about something very important; than I pulled the wooden spoon out of my purse. “Boo” suddenly got real quiet. When I asked him if he remembered what this was; he whispered “It’s a no no stick.”
At that point I started to cry as I was trying to explain to him that I wanted him to understand what Good Friday and Easter Sunday were all about. I told him that Jesus died on Good Friday and he died to save people and change who they are. I told him the big fancy word for change is called repentance; yet at that point I was beginning to loose him again. I asked him to come and sit down next to me; although he was too nervous and antsy to do so.
Finally I went over and took his hand and brought him back to the window and had him sit down. I told him that I knew he was scared; but I wanted him to hear me out. I confessed to him that I knew I used to hit him with these “sticks”; but I know now that was the wrong thing to do and I wanted him to know that I knew that. I told him he’d never see another “no no stick” again. I’d never hit him again after that; with a stick, my hand or anything else. After that I pulled out a marker and I started writing on the spoon.
“Do not render evil for evil;
but over come evil with good”
“For what soever you’ve done
unto the least of these;
you’ve done it unto Me.”
After this I asked “Boo” what he thought we should do with this “no no stick”. He said he thought we should hide it under a bush. I told him I thought maybe it would be better if we burned it in a fire. He didn’t seem to like that idea and asked me if he could get up. I let him get up and he walked around the vestibule and than into the back room where this monastery sold bread and jams. I could hear “Boo” talking to someone in the bread room; so I stuck the stick back in my purse and decided to try and figure out what to do with it later.
When I went in the back by the bread; I found that the person “Boo” was talking to was one of the monks. He’d just come out of their afternoon vespers and still had his monk robe on. “Boo” was asking him where the cash register was when I came in. I explained to the man that Boo really likes coins; he has Autism. The monk nodded politely in acknowledgment that my explanation answered his question as to “Boo’s” odd fascination with money.
After that (much to my surprise) the monk asked us what we were doing for Easter. I confessed to not really knowing; since we hadn’t really made any plans. He than asked if we were coming to Mass on Easter Sunday; in which I told him we weren’t even Catholic. We’d come up partly so “Boo” could see where the bread was made. Than I finally got up the courage to tell the monk why we were really there.
I pulled out the “no no stick” and explained to the monk that I used to hit “Boo” with it. I set it on the table and explained to the monk that I wanted “Boo” to understand that Easter was about God changing people; his mommy included. I wanted “Boo” to understand that he didn’t have to be afraid of God. God wanted to help us. And God wants to change us to help us be better people than we are.
By this point “Boo” had grabbed the “no no stick” and was looking for a place to hide it; when the monk picked up a loaf of bread and went over to “Boo”. He asked “Boo” if he could have the stick in exchange for the loaf of bread. “Boo” asked him what he was going to do with the stick. The monk told him they were going to burn it in the fire where they make the bread. It would help bake a loaf of bread. “Boo” smiled and gave the monk the spoon in exchange for a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread. The monk also gave “Boo” a jar of quince jelly. I started crying again and the monk patted me on the shoulder. He wished us Godspeed and a happy Easter and we headed back to the car.
After we left the monastery; “Boo” was no longer afraid to set foot in any church. Still now; every Easter time we go up to the monastery and get some bread and jelly. “Boo” still gets a big smile on his face every time I bring him home a loaf of monk bread.
As for my promise to not hit him any longer; I haven’t kept it perfectly. I think it’s been about 3 times in the past two years I’ve lost my temper and wacked him on the behind. So, I apologize and renew my promise to be a better parent. And “Boo” he does earnestly try harder to follow directions better. So, but for the grace of God we walk this road together.
Where is "Boo" today with God? Well, based on his circumstances in life; his extent of faith appears to be:
Pray Jesus raise me from the dead when I'm scared of my seizures.
Tell God how frusterated I am when I don't get what I want.
Pray when people don't treat me right.
Act the way I think God would want me to act and ask Him how He'd want me to act if I'm not sure.
So, thus is passing on faith to kid's in a "nutshell".
Don't just talk the talk
Walk the Walk!
Further resources:
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Thy Rod and Thy Staff
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