by Joy Daniel

When my daughters and I began coming to services at Bethany a little over a year ago, it was a stretch for us. We had never been churchgoers before, nor much considered religion beyond a vague belief in God. Rising early on a Sunday morning — or at least, getting dressed and out the door — felt pretty daunting. Getting my 4-year-old to sit still and quiet in the pew until Children’s Time was a challenge. And above all, there was Audrey to consider.

Audrey is my 7-year-old, very lovingly nicknamed my Little Weird Girl. She is hearing impaired and has autism, and her likely reaction to church worship, I knew, would be to take refuge in movement and noise — running and shrieking down the center aisle, perhaps, or lying flat on the ground and waving her arms in time with the ceiling fans. Even Sunday school would be a new, overstimulating and potentially frightening experience.

I was worried about the challenges for us, but also for the Bethany community, when I first approached Children’s Ministries about accommodating Audrey in some way on Sunday mornings. I had prepared myself to be told, “We’re sorry, we can’t do this.”
Advocating for Audrey in the medical and school systems is nearly always hard and lonely work, so I was amazed at the acceptance, support and commitment I was offered from the very first at church.

A group of Sunday school “buddies,” who didn’t know us personally but stepped up to offer help, made it possible for Audrey, Margaux and I to begin attending services on Sunday mornings. These great people take turns hanging out with Audrey in class, help her to be a part of things to the extent that she can, and find a more comfortable place for her when she needs a break.

People who don’t know us and catch sight of Audrey in church on occasion may not realize how she has blossomed in the past year. Where she was once too overwhelmed by the crowd to take in any specifics, I now watch her look around for people she recognizes, and greet them in her quirky ways — a wave so brief as to be almost imperceptible, or a bear hug with kisses on both cheeks.

The way in which this congregation expresses Christ’s love and acceptance towards my daughter is an incredible blessing. Audrey isn’t able to understand stories about Jesus and abstract explanations of God’s grace, but she clearly experiences them through the people of his church.

I came to Christ for the first time this past year. I came with feelings of profound guilt and inner conflict (how could I believe in a good God who lets such suffering happen to innocent children?). But by watching her grow in his love, I am learning to know that the Lord walks with her, and with all of us.

The horror of autism is that those who suffer from it long for and need human relationships, but are frightened and unbearably overwhelmed by them at the same time. It occurs to me that my own approach to a relationship with Jesus is a bit like this — a deep need for him coupled with fear and awe.

Audrey’s courage in the face of her afflictions has been inspiring to me in many ways. Being able to watch God meet her and work to heal her through his church is one of the most meaningful.

Buddies on Sunday mornings
Several children at Bethany with special needs need a special one-on-one buddy to spend time with them once or twice a month on Sunday mornings during one service. If you are interested in learning more about what’s involved in sharing Christ’s love in this tangible way, please contact Dianne Ross at 284-2222 ext 14.