Intro to my processing book

Sometimes I'm looking for this bit of writing I did what feels like a bazillion years ago and have trouble finding it. I'm posting it here so I can find it more easily in the future...

In the years following Daniel's diagnosis I read everything I could get my hands on with regard to anything that might apply to Daniel, especially that which was written about autism. A ton of it was very helpful but even that which helped us also hurt us because it assumed unquestionable the notion that autism was bad; a disease to be cured and eradicated. That bothered me so much I decided I wanted to offer another voice. The year after his dx, I wrote this introduction to a book that hasn't come to be and quite likely never will, but the essence is here, and I think it's worthy of keeping in mind for parents in the weeks and months following their child's diagnosis. For what it's worth, I share it here...


Introduction... 

Throughout history, there have been many children born with profound exceptionalities and these exceptionalities are evident so young that it becomes very hard to know when to "parent," "teach," "guide," or "discipline,” and when to "observe," "learn," and "revel." My son is such a person, and he has taught me much, far beyond the sorts of lessons one expects a child to teach a parent. 

As an example, one Sunday when Daniel was three, after a disastrous (and quite unsuccessful) day of intensive potty-training, Daniel climbed down off of a ladder where he'd spent most of the day gazing at the sky. He took me by the shoulders, stared deeply and intensely into my eyes and with equal depth and intensity spoke in a voice suddenly much older than his usual three year old timbre, and said 'Just wait for the sky to come, Mama. It will be here soon.' Then he climbed back up onto his ladder, looked back out the window, and said 'Escucha, escucha.' (Listen, listen)." 

I shivered. Then I did a bit of research and I learned that words like the ones Daniel spoke at that moment have been found in the texts of the wisdom traditions for thousands of years. In every tradition, the meaning is simple and profound. Somehow, someday, Heaven and Earth will merge together and all will be one, and all will be well. 

Daniel has been diagnosed with Autism. As of this writing, Autism affects more than 1 of every 50 children, and 1 in every 31 boys, and its prevalence is growing. According to one leading autism science and advocacy organization, “Autism is the fastest-growing serious developmental disability in the U.S.” It's clear that nearly everyone effected thinks of Autism as nothing more than tragedy. This is where this book will differ from the overwhelming majority of what exists to date in the literature on raising children with autism. Diagnosis is intended to serve only positive purposes, but in fact, it is very often violent and diminishing, extracting from a person all the specialness and gifts that they have to offer the world. In Parenting Christ: Waiting For the Sky to Come, I neither sugar-coat the reality of raising a child with Autism, nor do I pretend that I would change who my son is. Instead, I share my experiences of parenting Daniel. 

Whether readers are parents, relatives, caregivers, or professionals loving and serving children with autism, or whether the reader is an adult or adolescent with the diagnosis, readers are invited to consider the people they love with Autism in a way they likely have not before. This book is given the title it is not because I believe my son to be a Messiah, but because he is profoundly exceptional in the way that so many children are. We, as individuals and as a society frequently misunderstand these children, especially when they are still too young to teach us what we need to know in a language we can understand. This book is the product of my efforts to understand. I share it publicly especially for other parents who at some level already understand that their child's sometimes disabling exceptionalities are still something more than disability; for the neighbors, friends, and relatives who seek to better understand someone with an autism spectrum diagnosis; for the professionals who love these children more for who they are than for who they can be made to be; and for every person with autism, from infancy through adulthood, who needs to hear that all that is intrinsically who you are is right, good, intended, and whole.