The Day My Son Taught Me That God Had Always Held Me

Years ago, my son was enrolled in a private Christian kindergarten. Sadly, he was being bullied for having to wear an eye patch, wearing glasses and for following the rules. While the ratio of students to teacher was 12 to 1, the teacher and the staff of the school were seemingly unable or unwilling to help him. He came home day after day in tears, and would often cry himself to sleep. Being five years old, and on the autism spectrum, he was unable to defend himself. He was entirely overwhelmed by the hurtful actions of his classmates.

One evening, while giving my son snuggles as a part of his bedtime routine, he began to cry. "Why don't they like me? I want friends. Why can't they be my friends? Why do they hate me? Is God here?" I pulled him in close, spooning his little body as he let his frustrations run down his chubby, soft cheeks and onto his pillow. Oh how I loved my baby boy! How I longed to protect him and give him all things good and beautiful! How I wanted him to rest in the peace that surpasses understanding!

My mind was drawn back to the nighttime tears of my own childhood. I remembered how I'd prayed night after night, "God, are you there? Do you love me?" I ruminated on countless conversations I had with Jesus in the dark hours of the night. I had no idea how it worked. I thought I had to earn His love. If I was good, then I would be loved. I tried reading the Bible, but I didn't understand it. I was only seven. I was only nine. I was only eleven. I was only fifteen. The years stretched long and my heart ached to know His love. Then just like that, I gave up. Because Jesus had not shown up in the way I wanted Him to, I decided to put Him on the back burner of my life. I chose to go on with life in my own power, believing that one day, when I had time, I would figure this Jesus out.

I found friends. I lost friends. I dated too many guys and got in too much trouble. I got married. I had children. Yet, I was dreadfully lost and frightfully alone. When I was twenty nine years old, I knew it was time to stop leaning on my own understanding and learn Jesus. I began reading the Bible and attending church. I learned that I could not earn the love of Jesus, because He gives it freely. I cannot put a price tag on God's love. To do so, cheapens it.

So there I was, spooned around my young son as his tears dried and his body relaxed into sleep, and God whispered to my heart, "Yvonne, you hold your son just as I held you when you were young, just as I hold you both right now."

He was there! What happened to me, happened to Him. He knew my joys and my deepest hurts. He had never left me. Once more, He was with my son and I that night. He was working all things together for good.

"Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. " ~Romans 8:28, The Message

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." ~Deuteronomy 31:6

So grateful for grace,