Religious Content Ahead

I've been doing some spiritual research lately. Without going into heavy detail, I guess you could say that I have been searching for the meaning of life. The purpose of our existence. The question that goes to the answer, "42."

I was raised Catholic, left for a few years and came back to the Catholic Church. I attended services at several protestant churches and a synagogue. Yes, a synagogue. I read everything I could get my hands on so that I could figure out what the heck I was doing. Even though much of what I read confused me I kept turning to how I was raised for the answers. That is when I knew it was time to go back to my roots, to where I felt I belonged.

I think most people do this. They go soul searching looking for (in the words of Pippin) their corner of the sky. I was content until recently and I think I know why I am now growing restless. It has nothing to do with my church or the people that worship there. They are a wonderful, close bunch of caring people. Everyone knows everyone else and there is great fellowship. It is a busy and well-run parish, something (just about) for everyone. Almost everyone.

I am having great difficulty with Bugaboo and his place in a church in general. They have special Sunday School classes but religion in itself is so abstract. It takes a great deal of faith to have...faith. Bug Boy can memorize things and knows the answers to all of the pertinent questions (heaven, Jesus, love one another, why Christmas is supposed to be celebrated) and I think some day he might even delve a little deeper. But Bugaboo? He is the age where Bug Boy first started going to Sunday School and preschool. The age where the questions started. You know, "Why does God make cars? Why did God make it rain? Does Jesus see us everyday like Santa (I do not teach Santa, but he picked it up somewhere)? If God made me this way does God make people sick?" And so on. But Bugaboo? Does he think about this stuff? Does he sin? I have no way of knowing. It is something I have been struggling with for about two years.

I have always had a difficult time dealing with sin in general. The whole concept of confession to a priest always seemed foreign to me and I have always had reservations. I know WHY I have to go. I know the purpose. But I always questioned why I had to confess it to another person if it was between me and my God. If I am truly sorry for it, why tell a priest? I know, don't lecture me. I didn't attend twelve years of parochial school for nothing. They did teach us a thing or two about it and I did PAY ATTENTION. I get it, really. So don't fill my comment section with your retort to that last part.

But what about sacraments? How am I supposed to teach Bugaboo to accept them? If he won't put a piece of cheese in his mouth how can I expect he will take communion? Is he really going to get the whole concept of confession? He doesn't talk, how is he going to be able to tell someone that he is sorry for what he did? Forget about being enlightened by the Holy Spirit! He doesn't like red and I can bet you twenty dollars that he will not like it by sixth grade, either. No red gowns for Bugaboo.

Seems like such a silly quandry, but these are the things I currently think about at night. I do not remember being taught about what happens to a person's soul when they have autism. Are they the innocents? Are they still "The little children?" Do they make mistakes and sin? According to my grandmother, she hasn't sinned in years since she is so old (she is also 91 and slightly senile, so don't take her word for it!). But what about Bugaboo? I know, I shouldn't beat myself up for it. I have talked to our priest and he assures me that Bugaboo will be taken care of. And deep down inside I know that to be true.

I can tell you that I did not completely know the meaning of unconditional love, patience and God's will until this child was born. I prayed my whole pregnancy for a healthy child. I kept telling God that if Bugaboo was born safely and had all the correct body parts then I would accept whatever I got. Somehow I knew that something would be different with this child. I had dreams about it. When he was born and seemed so perfect and yet so quiet I knew there was something going on. Most people shushed me and said he was perfect. Never look a gift horse in the mouth!

Bugaboo is a gift. What I've realized is that he is the gift of patience, the patience I have never had. He is the gift of Courage, courage from God to do what is right for my child and not just let others tell me what is best. He is peace and joy, always a smile on his face and always there to brighten my day, no matter how awful I feel. (ok, some of these are fruits, but we won't dive into semantics here.) He is also my gift of love. Until I had children I never knew what that truly meant. I mean, I got the concept of love and I wanted to love someone with all my heart without reservations. I knew I could love God that way. But did I truly know what it meant? Even after Bug Boy was born I kept thinking, "If he could only be ____." Did I love him without fail? After Bugaboo I found my answer. Yes. I can love these children with my whole heart and soul. I can love God as he loves me. I can love others that way, too. God has given me that gift, all I have to do is accept it, which I do.

I prayed for all of those things. Love, patience, understanding, courage. Be careful what you pray for. Sometimes God answers! But I am glad God answered me, I cannot imagine life any other way.