It was a Sunday morning. I sat down where I always sit on Sunday mornings...behind the keyboard on the platform of the church's worship center. The first service was about to begin. People were still filing into the balcony. The orchestra was seated, ready for the downbeat. On the outside, I appeared to have it all together. On the inside, I was an emotional wreck. My blood was running through my veins as cold as the frigid air blowing down from the vents above. I didn't feel like worshipping that particular morning.
Four days prior to that Sunday, I had opened an envelope containing a piece of paper with some test results. My sweet, innocent little boy was diagnosed with autism. Even with all of the speculation in the months proceeding, I was not prepared to read the words typed on that paper. It was almost as if I became obsessed with my child's autism at that moment. I could barely focus on anything else. The fear of the unknown took hold of me.
As the service began, my mind started thinking about all the signs of autism that were present in my son. Some of them were obvious. Some were endearing. Some seemed almost typical for any 2-year-old. I began singing the words to a familiar song along with the choir, smiling as I pictured my sweet little boy standing in front of me in our living room with a stack of books on the couch next to him. He had memorized all of those books and he loved for me to repeat his words as he quoted them one by one. Over and over again, he would "read" books all day long. It was his way of communicating. He had no idea what words like "encouragement" or "understanding " meant, but he loved to say them.
I began to get frustrated as I continued singing the worship songs that morning. I wondered why God would allow my son to have the ability to say all of those words, yet he couldn't use any of them to communicate his thoughts and feelings to me. I longed for him to just converse with me, tell me what was going through his mind, or tell me that he loved me. After all, I had been sitting right beside him the entire time.
Have you ever had one of those moments when truth comes at you with so much power that it seems to smack you right in the gut? This was that moment for me.
That Sunday morning, sitting in that familiar spot behind the keyboard, I heard a gentle voice speak to my heart. "Isn't that what you are doing to Me? Even at this moment, you are singing memorized words, but you don't even know what you are singing. And I am sitting right beside you, longing for you to tell me from your heart that you love Me."
Wow!!! At that moment in time, my Heavenly Father revealed to me that I was on the spectrum, spiritually speaking. And just as I was disappointed in my child's lack of conversation with me, God was disappointed with my lack of genuine conversation with Him. The Bible reminds of this truth. Matthew 15:8 says, "These people honor Me with their lips, but their hearts are far from Me."
That day changed how I walk into a worship service. I want my mind to be totally engaged with God while I'm singing, playing keys or listening to God's Word. And I have to pray earnestly to keep the distractions away. I'm not always successful, but now I am aware of my "diagnosis."
So, where are you on the spiritual spectrum? Maybe you are like me and struggle with focusing on God. Or perhaps you deny His existence. Maybe distractions come at you from all directions. If you can relate and you want to do something about it, how about some spiritual therapy?
"Call to Me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." (Jeremiah 33:3)
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength." (Mark 12:30)
I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice
To worship You. Oh my soul, rejoice!
Take joy, my King, in what You hear.
Let it be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear.
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