I had one job. To get my grandchildren to school on time this morning. The careful list of instructions left by my daughter spelled it out clearly.

“Leave the house by 7:15 am.”

I am clever. I remember the ordeal a simple task of loading the car can be. We stepped out the door at 7 am sharp with the idea fifteen minutes to load would be ample. Silly me. It’s been too long. I should have started at 3 am.

The Boston Terrier escaped when the door opened, which was no big deal because she self-potties and runs back to the door. Unless there is a raccoon in the yard. She took off like a bat out of hell and disappeared into the woods.

First the children went in hot pursuit— but to no avail. They were impressed how their skittish dog penetrated the forest with no reserve. Then it was my turn. Into the woods I went.

Looking up, I spotted Olive’s obsession in the branch over my head. Leash in hand, eventually I corralled our domesticated crazed beast and coaxed her out of the brush and back into civilization. Enough adventure for one day— these kids must get to school!

Buckled back in, I press the ignition.

“Key fob not found.”

I am holding the fob in my hand. This is a push button ignition. Ugh!!! Ok, there is an emergency manual key hidden in every fob — I extract it and look for the insertion slot.

Dashboard. No. Under the cup holder. No. In the storage bay. No. Dash again. No. By my knees. No. Ugh!!! My grandson Brave mentions the penalties levied against him for arriving late.

Ugh.

Quick thinking, my beloved searches google “Mazda Fob Reset” and gets the vehicle to respond to the fob. Off we go! Thank you, Grandpa!

I do not know my way around Nashville. But I am quick with my GPS and equipped with the address pre-loaded. Only upon arriving at the first spaghetti junction, the options the program presented me did not match the road signs. Each road may have 4 names, but only a local can supply the names not present on the sign overhead. And I am no local.

Pulling off in heavy traffic, I switch programs and the alternate app chooses a route actually represented by signage. How was I to know it was a fifteen minute diversion to make a loop back around? And loop we did.

I prayed for a miracle- a teleportation wonder where somehow we pull into car line right on time. That miracle did not happen. My grandchildren were late to school this morning, my first day behind the wheel of their parenting, entrusted with their precious lives.

But a miracle had taken place, over a number of years actually. The miracle of being able to remain calm under pressure, the miracle of not accepting the shame offered me after failure. The miracle of seeing the humor in circumstances real time, even when the outcome feels like it makes me look bad. The miracle of being present and loving life and being connected to the God of the universe who is smiling at me as I navigate loving well in the midst of stress.
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Rescue comes in the form of a Person— through Divine camaraderie and empowerment. Today, in the midst of your own story, receive His provision and watch the same miracles unfold.

Our children grow up and carry with them the scars from the words spoken over them. No matter how mindful we are of this, how carefully we choose our words, our soon-to-be adult children will still need Jesus, His perspective and His healing balm for restoration. Even so, we do need to be oh so mindful! 

As parents of children with hidden disabilities, or really as parents of any child, we are not parenting behaviors— we are shepherding little hearts. Empathy and compassion come before correction and instruction. Even now, my 28-year-old is helping me to understand the impact of my own words on her, words I felt at the time needed to be spoken, but words that could have been spoken after recognition and acknowledgment of her very valid feelings. Her inability to process or choose appropriate behaviors at the time did not invalidate her feelings as a child! 

Today a friend mentioned needing to house a family member for a season to relieve his parents from incessant triggering. There can be constant volatility when a teen is struggling with ADHD and perhaps other undiagnosed co-morbidities. The messaging behind “getting him out of the house” will need to be conveyed carefully.

​Just like a gifted photographer gets to choose to focus on the petals of the wildflower rather than on the necessary drainage ditch three feet away, as parents we get to choose where we direct attention. We can highlight what is true in ways our children see their value, despite the challenges they face. 

This boy has needs. His needs can be better accommodated for a season with fewer people around. The reprieve offers more space for his parents to pursue a better understanding of how he can be best accommodated for his future success. The message our children need to hear the loudest trumpets their value, whether as our babies or as the children of God.​

Should we seek divine healing for our children with autism and other neurological differences? ​
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I serve a living God who heals not just emotional wounds, but who literally performs miracles in pursuit of the hearts of mankind. He reveals Himself this way sometimes.

When I was ministering in Myanmar exactly two years ago, I prayed for a Buddhist woman who was incapacitated by broken bones in her ankle. A Japanese pastor's wife and myself prayed for a miracle and God responded in under 3 minutes with an inexplicable miracle, the kind of life event that is so profound the woman immediately gave up her familial belief in Buddhism for our global God of creation, the God of the Bible. She joyfully surrendered her life to Him, to this miracle working God of love. ​

​Okay, let’s back up a little bit. What is self-diagnosis?

​There’s several ways to go about doing it. Some are good, some are bad, some are downright unhealthy. I’m sure we’ve all at least heard of the experience of going to Web MD and diagnosing ourselves with pneumonia, Ebola, and six forms of cancer. But the correct method of self-diagnosis is a balanced process of self-examination, self-identification, and applying a label that while sticky, is not necessarily 100% accurate. 

“But Carly,” you might say. “Why not just go to a doctor and find out for sure what’s wrong with you there?”

​There’s a variety of reasons for this, ranging from unsupportive family situations to lack of financial resources. But the number one reason is simply this:

• When did you or anyone you know last go to a mental healthcare professional for a checkup?
  
• When does anyone see a mental healthcare professional if they or someone else hasn’t diagnosed them even with just the idea that “something is wrong?”

Self-diagnosis is a vital intermediate step in getting treated for mental health issues, because nobody treats their mental health unless they already think something about it isn’t right. 

​This unfortunately is not as easy as it sounds, especially not for children and teenagers. Being a teenager is hard. People assume you’re already volatile and emotional. They assume that you’re attention seeking. And they assume that you are wrong, that the older you are the wiser you get, automatically. In some instances all these things can prove true.

​Any of you that can remember being or have raised a teen will know that. But at the same time, these factors make it exceedingly hard to be taken seriously when you need help. “I have depression,” or “I have an anxiety disorder” are things that are easy to brush off when spoken from the undiagnosed mouth of a child. 

What makes it extra difficult is that even if the teen does manage to get someone to take them to a doctor - naturally it’s not as though they can take themselves - they are often not taken seriously there either. I have been diagnosed professionally since I was seven years old, and even as a grown woman I still encounter mental health professionals who assume they know more about my diagnoses than I do.

​I’ve been asked point-blank to my face, with my file in the man’s lap, “Why do you THINK you have Tourette’s syndrome?” I did not keep the doctor for very long. How much more difficult is this for a child who hasn’t been seriously listened to by anyone along the way? 

​When I was in third grade, I remember coming to my mother and telling her that I couldn’t see the board at the front of the class. As it turns out, I needed glasses.

I looked at myself and said “this is wrong,” and my mother listened.

At no point did the process devolve into:

• shame (”why are you doing this”)
• accusations (”you just want attention”)
• belittling (”you don’t even know what you’re talking about”). 

​I went to the people in my life who were supposed to help me, and they did, without question. It was self-diagnosis in third grade.

​I hope one day help for mental illnesses can be as respected and as easily acquired. ​

Our ferry from Negros Island to Bohol Island was delayed for several hours, and concern arose for our ability to fulfill our commitment to speak that evening. Any changes could also impact the next day's schedules.

The journey before us involved a rough sea crossing. ​The two Dramamine pills I took were making me terribly sleepy as we waited ad nauseum in the hot, cramped, pre-loading staging area at the docks.

​As we headed toward the rocking craft to board, my travel companions began throwing out ideas for rescuing the sabotaged conference speaking schedule. 

• “Melanie could take tonight’s session while we sleep!“ 
  Me: “Ok.” 
  
  
• “Melanie could give up her plenary tomorrow to make up for lost time!”
  Me: “That works.” 
  
  (Peals of laughter ensued.)
  
  
• ​“Doesn’t anything ruffle your feathers?” one friend playfully chided. 

​​Not much.

And believe me, not getting frustrated is not in my “natural” temperament.

The truth is, raising children with hidden disabilities, precious wonderful children that are incredibly trying and who cause us to die to ourselves every...single...day of our lives, produces lovely fruit of patience, tolerance and perseverance. 

All of the peace I cried out for in my prayers during the most trying seasons of child raising, I have now, not because my babies are near grown, but because peace can be internal independent of agitators or circumstances.

You are not just molding your children. Your children are molding you, and its a beautiful thing. ​

​What I learned from my experiences and what I want to share with you is this: Your friends and family most likely won’t understand what you’re dealing with, at least not initially.

Eventually you will become an effective advocate for the challenges your child faces. But, first you must find your tribe.  

Your tribe are those who have gone before you and triumphed, while maintaining a positive and hopeful outlook.

Seek those parents and supporting voices who can speak into your life who share your values, and appreciate your children as they are, their non-typical beautiful selves.

It's not always easy to find those voices in our neighborhoods or even in our churches. 

We live in an electronically connected world today, giving us great advantages over parents facing the same challenges twenty years ago. Hashtags and Google searches can heart connect us with others who walk the same path.

​Don’t discount the power of online resources and relationships! 

An online community that understands the challenges faced by children who are not neuro-typical can stand aligned with you as you rejoice in your child’s abilities while acknowledging the unique challenges you are facing.

Thanksgiving is over. I can breathe deeply, content in the peace that comes from a sense of completion and well-being. Love and joy are the hallmarks of holidays spent with family. 

All is well in my world. 

My circumstances have not changed, but my sense of acceptance has matured right along with the aging of my children with hidden disabilities. 

My son is approaching his last semester as a senior in high school, shy the credits he needs to graduate. There are other paths to success than academics and glee club. 

My adult daughter on the spectrum is unemployed, yet chose to forgo the annual family pilgrimage to Texas for feasting with those we all love. By now the cooperative extended family is well versed in questions not to ask that showcase her deficits, and all of us celebrate her remarkable strengths.  Nevertheless, anxiety won this year and she remained home in Colorado. We missed her, but nobody batted an eye. 

Guilt free decision. 

Yet I remember the days when the activity in our home, the door bell ringing, the festive music, the buzz of the oven timer, the rearranging of the dining room to accommodate more people, and the cheerful voices of guests would almost certainly elicit a meltdown in my daughter. Also elicited was my own deep sense of sorrow when she missed what was supposed to be that magical moment called Thanksgiving Dinner. 

Learning to topple the idol of ideal in my life changed everything. I look for love, laughter, and shared connections to define well being, setting aside the pursuit of white picket fence living. 

What's right in your world? Let that define your experience this holiday season and drive your gratitude. 

​When we think of praying, what typically comes to mind is petitioning God. Our lives and the lives of those we love are filled with spiritual, emotional and practical needs. It’s not wrong to ask. Phil 4:6 (NLT) exhorts us,

​“Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.”  

Consider, however, that some of the things we may be asking for, we already have. Scripture is full of statements that are true about us as ones who have committed our lives to Christ. However, those truths may not be manifested in our lives. The disconnect isn’t with the Provider, rather, it may be with our enforcement or with our view of ourselves. 

I’ll give you a concrete example. It is easy to see the truth that humans are alpha over dogs. Yet many pet owners allow their little fur balls to rule the house. The human may feel powerless to exert rules or boundaries. There is a problem in the way the pet owner views themselves. Can you imagine Fifi’s owner petitioning God for the authority to be boss at home over their pets? They already have the authority!!  

Increasing faith impacts the measurable results of your prayers! 

• Declaring moves spiritual realities from our heads and into our hearts, impacting the way we actually live our lives. 
• Declaring announces to the forces of hell that we know who we are, and that we are enforcers of the truth. 

Have you ever taken a stand at home, declaring over your children, “I’m the mother here. And what I say, goes!”? You get the idea. You were the mother before the statement was made audibly.

​But declaring the truth of your authority and position over the troops creates greater alignment because of enforcement. 

Today when you read scripture, keep a pen handy to capture every statement that describes you and those you intercede for as believers. Declare these truths into full manifestation, shifting your realities into closer alignment with the purposes of God.

​Let’s start with Hebrews 4:16 (NLT), “So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.”

​I addressed a group of mothers raising children with autism in Havana, Cuba this week. I offered the love of God, and some basic affirming truths taken from Scripture. I shared that even when medical questions are answered, we may still have spiritual questions.

One woman had tears streaming down her face as I spoke. 

A man who doesn't know God approached me afterwards, hungry for more. 

There is a bond between parents who have faced similar challenges. We understand each other's pain. Isolation alienates, and robs us of hope. The reassurance of "Me too!" is a universal experience that bridges between cultures. 

And Kingdom culture dictates that we do everything in our power, even travel to far reaches, to offer the comfort of our shared stories and the Light of the Savior of the world. 

Go bridge some gaps in your world. Your experiences, failures and triumphs, put you in good company with others who are also committed to overcoming. Hearing from you makes their journey a little less difficult through connections that bring hope.