Listening to everyone tell their stories about hearing the call of Jesus, our Shepherd, caused me to stop and think. I know that Jesus is my Savior, and I know I had an encounter with him when I was in a coma, but as I reflect, I see that Jesus had been shepherding me all along; I just was not awake enough to know that was what was happening. Sometimes, when our shepherd calls us, it’s a massive hit over the head, not a subtle whisper.
I was going to share this story on Sunday, but I realized I needed to frame it in a way that Molly would understand the blessing she is and not a burden at all, and that is difficult for someone who sees the world in black and white.
I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I loved kids, I loved working with them, I loved snuggling babies, and watching children learn and grow. When I was first pregnant during our first year of marriage, I remember working with my differently abled kids and the realization that there is a vast difference between teaching someone with multiple needs and parenting them. I was panicked, I remember thinking “how on earth can I do what that amazing mom is doing? Please, Good, make my child normal”. Ugh, I’m still embarrassed by my disillusioned thoughts of life, and my fear of differently abled parenting. God knew more and still knows more than I could ever hope to learn, but I strive to live up to it.
Molly was born six weeks early, weighing in at 4 pounds 13 ounces, and I was sicker than I had ever been in my life. They put me to sleep, and when I woke up, they told me I had a baby girl in the NICU. They wheeled me to see her quickly, and I wouldn’t hold her for quite some time. As most preemies, she was delayed in her milestones, but the delay gap kept getting bigger. Then the seizures started, she lost all her words, and her development stalled. The following 19 years were filled with diagnoses, hospital visits, more tests than I can remember, multiple PPT meetings, therapies, and any intervention we could think of or the doctors recommended. I was a basket case in the beginning. I kept everything so structured, well-ordered, and watched my child like a security camera.
I was scared. For over a year, I slept on a small couch in her room because it was the only way I could fall asleep. I was not listening to my shepherd, even though he was whacking me over the head. He told me I could not control this “perfect life” I had somehow dreamed up. He put Chris in my path early so we could learn these things together; I could not be the mom and person I am today without Chris and letting my shepherd lead the way.
Molly is autistic, intelligent, kind-hearted, and inquisitive, and she opened my mind to understanding neurodiversity. Molly continues teaching me to slow down, know why we are doing something, and listen. My shepherd literally gave me a prized sheep for me to help shepherd, and he completed our flock with Kennedy and Zoey.
I am grateful that Jesus is patient because it took me a long time to listen to the answers that have been with me for so long. It took me getting sick to realize what had been in front of me, to stop and listen. Molly is not and has never been a burden to our family. She is an integral part. She’s autistic – her brain just works differently – and different isn’t a bad thing – it’s a treasure.
Amanda Renz