ShareI have always had this dream of a perfect cottage garden. The carefully bedded out plants which are planted with an eye toward harmony and blending of color, shape and size. I would also love to have a perfect French potager right outside of my kitchen.
When I dreamed of having a family I had a similar kind of vision, and when my oldest son Ryan was born I pictured a smart, athletic kid who would read books, play games, have lots of friends and someday find a nice girl (of whom I approved!) and settle down to giving me beautiful grandchildren.
The reality of that was very different. Ryan was diagnosed with autism when he was three years old. I had an eighteen-month-old and was six months pregnant. My husband and I knew this diagnosis was coming but we were still heartsick at the official-ness of calling our son ‘disabled’.
The dream died a little that day but I have to say that after the mourning period it wasn’t that hard for us to look at the situation, see what was good and adjust the dream. We revived it rather than bury it and we surrendered to the plan that God had for our family. He made this leap of faith in trusting us with this extraordinary child and we had to believe that the Almighty had a plan and that we needed His help to accomplish it. (Read more.)