Last Year He Ran. This Year, He Walked In.

As I sit here in the parking lot of my church, watching my kids run into VBS, I’m reminded of what last year looked like. We were in one of the hardest seasons of our lives with our son, and I was hoping that signing the kids up for VBS would be a fun escape for everyone.

He was not a fan of me signing him up. Truthfully, he’s never really been a fan of VBS programs; we've tried a few. It always ended up being too many people, too much noise, too overstimulating, he didn't know everyone which felt unfamiliar, and came home completely dysregulated.

Last year, I tried to drop him off and stay a little while. I thought he was still with his class or maybe in the bathroom, so I figured it would be a good chance to sneak away. And before you come after me, this wasn’t because I wanted to “get rid of him.”

If you’re an autism parent, you know that 98% of the time, our kids behave better when we’re not around. I truly thought that if I removed myself from the equation, he’d have a better chance of adjusting.

I got into my car and sat there for a few minutes with a really bad gut feeling. Was it a bad feeling, was it anxiety, or was it mom guilt? I wasn’t really sure. I was already on the verge of tears because we had been battling for three hours that morning, and I was emotionally drained. And it was only 9:00 am!

During that season of life, it was hard to be around people, especially people who had no idea what was going on behind closed doors. As much as I desired friendship and fellowship, isolation felt safer and honestly, easier. No one understood what we went through daily with his anger, aggression, dysregulation, and just trying to walk on eggshells to keep the peace.  

I either felt like I was dumping way too much on people, or I felt fake when they asked for an update. Truthfully, if anyone had asked me, “How are you doing?” at any point, I probably would have cried. So I avoided that question at all costs. But that’s a story for another blog.

I figured I might as well head home because if things didn’t go well, they’d call me. I started driving out of the church driveway and onto the road when I suddenly saw my son eloping through the parking lot with leaders chasing after him.

In that moment, it wasn’t that I was disappointed he had to come home with me. It was deeper than that. I was heartbroken that my 9-year-old son didn’t feel regulated or safe enough to participate in an activity at his own church, surrounded by people he had known for six years. My heart ached for all the things I knew he wanted to experience, but his body just couldn't get there.

I turned my car around, and my heart broke. He was completely dysregulated. Yelling, screaming, and absolutely furious with me. Looking back, I’m so thankful I saw him before I drove away because I honestly don’t know what he would have done. He was on a mission, and I truly think he would have run down the road trying to find me. 

At this point, I picked him up and drove away. I wish I could tell you I handled everything perfectly and remained patient and loving. But looking back, I remember pulling over by a small creek and crying outside my car because I didn’t want him to see my frustration, anger, or hear the choice words I had already spoken to my husband, who was on the phone. 

I don’t remember every detail after that. I do remember fighting. Aggression in the car and when we got home. Such anger directed at me because he thought I was leaving him. Dysregulation that lasted hours. But I also remember the sadness, the embarrassment, and shame because he didn't know why he couldn't do it even though he wanted to. 

Fast forward to this year. We’re already into Day 2 of VBS, and there’s been some pushback, but it’s been met and conquered with courage and joy. 

I told him we were going to do this and we were going to follow through. As we pulled into the church parking lot, he looked at me and said, "Thank you, Mom, for making me do this. I really like it.” 

I never in a million years thought I would see my kid walk into VBS by himself (IYKYK), but better yet, staying, dancing, singing, laughing, and enjoying himself. And do it all headphone-free, by the way. So much can happen in a year.

As I sit here, I just want to weep and thank the Lord for His goodness and faithfulness in my son'’s life and for all the progress we’ve made in the last 12 months.

There are so many parts of our story that I want to share. Some are simple and relatable, and others are hard and ugly. 

But I do know this: As the mother of a child with special needs, during the hardest seasons of my life, I felt alone, isolated, ashamed, guilty, and overwhelmed almost every single day.

Now that my brain and body are no longer living in that constant state of survival, I can look back and see how much Satan was trying to work in our home. He stole years of our joy and peace. He stole years of me enjoying motherhood the way God intended, and I refuse to let him take any more. 

So as I write, think, and process this little win this week, my goal is to write more. Not only because I think it’s healing for me personally, but because I know there are so many moms walking through hard seasons with their children.

Special-needs parents who feel alone. Mothers carrying burdens no one sees. Parents who simply need encouragement to keep going. This blog won’t be perfectly organized. It probably won't even be in chronological order. But it will be our story and I hope it encourages you. 

Someday I’ll share more about what we went through, what helped, what supported us, and the progress we've seen. But for today, I’m simply thankful.

→ Thankful for the Lord’s goodness and His relentless pursuit of me.

→ Thankful for a little boy who never gave up on life, even during seasons when he wanted to.

→ Thankful for his little brother, who continues to show grace, forgiveness, and unconditional love through all the highs and lows.

→ Thankful for a husband who has walked beside me through every step of this journey and always found a way to give more when I had nothing left.

→ And thankful for parents and friends who couldn’t change our circumstances but chose to walk alongside us, pray for us, love us, and support us anyway.

I realize this might not seem like a big deal to everyone. Maybe your child walks into activities without looking back, and this feels ordinary to you. That’s okay. But our family has come so far in a year.

Watching my son walk into VBS all by himself at 10 years old is a much bigger celebration than most people would realize.

Truthfully, I couldn't count on one hand the number of times he has walked confidently into an environment feeling safe, regulated, secure, and independent.

So for us, this isn’t a little win.
It’s a huge one.

And it is absolutely worth celebrating! 💛