Peace is what I leave with you; it is my own peace that I give you. I do not give it as the world does. Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid. John 14:27 (GNT)
When Zack was young, I was overcome with anxiety. He threw up several times a day, seemed impossible to potty train, was a flight risk in grocery stores, and screamed whenever there was a loud noise or crowded environment.
At age 26, most of that is a distant memory and his frequent tears have been replaced by laughter. But a few years ago, I revisited those early days of desperation. It was the day Zack had his wisdom teeth removed. His mouth would not stop bleeding and the Novocain was wearing off when Jay dropped us off at our house and drove to the pharmacy.
Zack is incredibly strong and doesn’t like to be touched near his mouth. It is nearly impossible to tend to a wound or, in this case, a bleeding mouth, without getting hurt. So I did what every nurturing mom would do as he writhed on the living room couch — I retreated to the kitchen, filled with guilt and feelings of inadequacy. From there I listened to my son, prayed Jay would hurry back with medication, and cried, absolutely at the end of any shred of personal resources.
In that dark place, I experienced something else I hadn’t felt in years. God’s peace filled me, and I heard His voice clearly in my heart and mind saying, “I’m here. I’m right here. I’m with you in this. And I’m with Zack.”
There’s peace that comes when all is right with the world, even for a few moments. But the peace I felt at that moment was peace what comes when nothing is right with the world, but God is present. It’s a peace like nothing I’ve experienced outside of being Zack’s mom.
That peace came to me years before when I was devastated by Zack’s diagnosis. It came night after night when I’d crawl out of bed and kneel in my living room, weeping. It was there during those years when I was holding on by a thread and God was holding me.
I don’t wish you desperation, and I certainly don’t wish it for myself. I only hope that in your desperate moments, you experience the peace that goes beyond explanation. Even a glimpse of it. Because the truth is, God is with you, and He is with your child. All the way through this life. For eternity.
PRAYER:
Father, give us Your peace today. The soul-filling peace that brings a deep assurance You are with us and leaves no doubt that You always will be. The peace that is a buffer between us and everything else, even for a moment. Amen.
Author Bio: Elizabeth Griffin is a senior writer at CRISTA Ministries. Her journey as a mom of a child with autism can be followed on her blog “Follow the Dots.” If you would like a free copy of Elizabeth’s book Fragile X, Fragile Hope, let us know at comments@allmomdoes.com.
