You’ve read about my experiences praying with PTSD in other posts, such as “The Discipline of Weeping” and “Return to Your First Love: On Heart Prayer.” If you’ve spoken with me in person, I probably talked about the way God heals us sidealong. It’s time that I start talking more about the hands-on ways that God has helped me heal from extensive childhood trauma. For that I’ve created a new series in my just-launched video podcast, Some Myrrh. It’s called, “The P is for Prayer,” and you can watch or listen to the first episode now. This one is for anyone who has ever felt “Shattered.”
writing, autism, & theology as a mother of joy
Posts from the “Friday Faith Talk” Category
I wrote those words over 20 years ago when I began to reflect on the way Christ came to me in mercy from my earliest childhood. I haven’t been able to shake that image, through all these years, of the saving gift of tears. I read about tears in spiritual writings. I have experienced the gift of tears when I have needed healing or repentance. I practice tears. I am in many ways still a beginner, but I have learned a little about the discipline of weeping: If you’re going to clear your eyes of false reality, you have to learn to cry in truth. The fathers advise us to weep for our sins. Yet, most of us don’t spontaneously burst into tears of…
For those of us who ask the help of saints in our daily lives, one of the first questions that comes along with an autism diagnosis/recognition is, “Who is the patron saint of autism?” As far as I know, there are no official patron saints of autism. Yet, I can attest to the help and intervention of several saints in our autistic lives. Here are some of the saints that have made themselves known to us as helpers for autistic Christians. Holy Theotokos. Sometimes it’s easy to read past important parts of scripture, like when the educated people of the time were surprised at how much Jesus knew when he had not studied in the temple or gotten the best education of his day.…
Our family prayer corner is filled with gilded handwritten icons that catch the eye, but today I want to talk about a small icon that hangs in the living room near our dining/library table. Its blue background settles in with the deep teal-blue of our walls, and you might miss it if you don’t know it’s there. It’s a holy icon of The Wedding at Cana. Most Christians are familiar with the story depicted. Jesus and his mother are at a wedding when the wine runs out. His mother tells the servants to do whatever they ask. He tells them to fill up 6 big stone water jars and draw some out for the steward of the feast. When they do, it’s not just…
Categories: autism, christian, conversation, encouragement, faith, family, Friday Faith Talk, instruction manual for my family, Messy Parenting, Orthodox Faith, special needs child, Uncategorized, vintage faith
Tagged: actually autistic family, autism, parenting
The most common reaction to the divine presence throughout history has been terror. Love is a consuming fire. We cannot embrace the Christian God of love without great consequences. We have a name for the places where people have tended to run into God: thin places. They are sacred sites frequented most often by people who are drawn into the divine flame of love. When my husband and I went on a pilgrimage to ancient holy sites in Scotland back in 2007, we walked in many such thin places. The draw toward the love of God felt nearer there, like kindling ready for the fire, especially on Iona. At its best, marriage is a thin place, drawing us closer to God in the dailiness…
If I ask for help praying, here’s what’s NOT happening: I’m not saying I have a mild case of self absorption that can be cured by looking at the big picture. I’m not saying I lack peace. I’m not saying I lack faith or trust in God. I’m not saying that what I really need is a chipper platitude to get me through a tough time. I’m not being abstract. Prayer is practical. Prayer is work. Prayer is action. But too often, we treat prayer requests as invitations for platitudes. We act like our friend just needs to buck up. We act like God isn’t there and assume by our words that our friend lacks faith. Here’s an example: Imagine you’re friends with Moses.…
He wasn’t very large when I sang him his first aria. My younger newborn twin, our baby B, was in the NCCU with a then-mysterious ailment. He wiggled toward me and called out, “Ma!” when I shuffled into the room, my belly bound, my feet swollen in the aftermath of twins. I wrapped him in a silk scarf and held him over my heart. My heart and he were friends. He had lived under my rib cage for months. He was part of the music of my body. We couldn’t feed him milk, so I gave him songs. It was one of those blurs in time when I was glad to have the big voice for which composers wrote the sad songs. Verdi…
Categories: faith, family, Friday Faith Talk, life lessons, Messy Parenting, survivor story, Uncategorized
