Divine Reflections

The trip to the library required a cross-town commute on the bus. The absence of a driver’s license wasn’t a hindrance and it did not bother me; I remained serene in the knowledge that securing one, if I so desired, was within my realm of capabilities.

However, any hinted desire for personal mobility sent my father into fits of strong disapproval. It was not due to paternal worry or perking his daughter's comfort over his - quite the contrary. His aim seemed to be to tether me close, retreating from society's general populace; his focus was particularly intent when it came to interactions with the opposite sex, women primarily.

My father held a presumptive belief that I, burdened by an inability to understand the auxiliary subtleties of relationships or incognizant in the art of conversation, found all social engagements challenging. This couldn't be further from the truth.

Biblical allusions tell us that our Lord 'Jesus' was perceived as what we currently label autistic, in his perceptible demeanor and speech. He was characterized by his infrequent use of eye contact and his cryptic, oft-misunderstood speech patterns.

Given these historical contexts, it's debatable whether God's decision to become earthly and human-like was purely his aspiration to symbolize an autistic experience, or if it was Jesus's clearly distinguishable nuances and divine creation that prompted such an unprecedented decision. This contradiction aside, Jesus serves as an embodiment of triumphant transcendence over disability – an inspiration for every individual grappling with challenges like autism.

It is why my existence becomes crucially eminent in people's lives - my innate ability to gaze past this superficial limitation, to delve deep into a person's unadulterated soul. Equipped with this divine-bestowed capacity, I can guide others who face similar difficulties through autism's complex labyrinth and remind them the essence of human life.

Sauntering into the public library, my path unconsciously leads me to rows of religious books, where an alfresco plethora of Christian commentary on autism awaits my select reading. The commingling of Christianity and Autism creatively disguised in scholarly works induce my laughter causing it to reverberate through the usually silent chambers of the library. Life had an uncanny knack for tweaking my sense of humor, resulting in spasmodic laughter at queer instances.

One book stood a testament against time, steadfast in its appeal – "What Would Jesus Say If He Were Autistic?" penned by esteemed psychologist Dr. Kenneth Craymer. It resonated with me, especially a poignant extract – "When you're autistic, sometimes you just go off into your own little world and think about things.” To suggest my affinity for the passage was emotional would be an understatement, the earnest authenticity of the described sentiments wrought a stirring sensation, invoking unshed tears.

Each word articulated my reality flawlessly. Those moments of mental lockdown echoed deepest within me, paint accurate portraits of an unavoidable dive into a different dimension – a realm full of love and devoid of suffering. This place radiated only the blinding rays of sunshine without the ominous shadows cast by deviously lurking dark clouds. Furthermore, what struck a chord within me was the articulation that this precious safe haven existed within and accessed when need demanded. That welcoming cocoon of comforting love was always within reach; all I needed was to extend my hand and grasp onto it wholeheartedly. Yet, why were so many refusing to acknowledge its presence?

It ran rampant across my conscience with the recurring question – why would anyone consciously choose pain over joy? Why wouldn't they attempt finding happiness, especially when they're born different, akin to me? Why would anyone deny themselves pleasures surpassing the norms, mirroring Jesus's vivid teachings celebrating diversity and love? Perhaps the reason behind their refusal was fear. Fear to let go of pain, a beautifully flawed security blanket, to allow raw vulnerability.

Suddenly, everything became clear like a fog had lifted from the former haziness, revealing a bright summer day – a sense of clarity had dawned upon my understanding of the concept. Love – a primal necessity of human existence was undoubtedly embedded within each residing heart, albeit often deeply concealed from plain view. It waited in anticipation to be unveiled and shown to the world by someone – someone like Jesus, myself or even you. Unleashing this profound depth of love encapsulated the essence of humanity – thereby love was instrumental in defining us.

However, our world remained baffling, filled with denial despite the divine gifts handed down from God Himself - the opportunity to relish in happiness. Did God expect us to heal ourselves from troubling scars gracing our hearts, reclaim happiness stolen from us because he chose individuals like the ones grappling with autism? Individuals who struggle in verbalizing emotions, forming meaningful friendships, or making consistent eye contact – considered essential attributes of societal interaction were predominantly chosen as His most beloved children.

Contemplating upon these important musings, another realization struck me.

As I sat there in the library, my mind swirling with thoughts and questions, I couldn't help but notice a young boy sitting at a nearby table. He was engrossed in a book, his fingers tracing the words as if he was absorbing every bit of knowledge they held. His bright blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder, reminding me of the innocence and purity that I often saw in children.

A pang of empathy surged through me as I watched him, knowing that he, too, faced challenges and obstacles in a world that sometimes seemed too overwhelming. Maybe he, too, felt the weight of not being fully understood or accepted by those around him. In that moment, I felt a connection to him - a shared experience that transcended words.

Without even thinking, I found myself walking over to his table, drawn to his contagious energy and enthusiasm. "What are you reading?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine curiosity. The boy looked up at me, his eyes brightening even more.

"It's a book about animals!" he exclaimed, flipping through the pages to find a picture of a lion. "Did you know that lions are the kings of the jungle?"

I smiled, captivated by his enthusiasm. "Yes, I did. They are strong and powerful creatures, just like you."

The boy's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. It was as if my words had struck a chord within him, reminding him of his own strength and worth. In that moment, I realized the power of connection. The ability to see beyond someone's differences and embrace their unique qualities could be life-changing.

As we continued to talk, I learned that his name was Jacob, and he had dreams of becoming a marine biologist one day. His passion for the ocean and its creatures was infectious, and I found myself caught up in his excitement.

"Jacob, do you think Jesus would be interested in marine biology too?" I asked, genuinely curious to hear his thoughts.

Jacob pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing as he searched for an answer. Finally, he nodded. "I think so. Jesus loved all of God's creations, so I'm sure he would have loved the ocean and its creatures too."

His words resonated deeply within me, and I realized that Jacob had stumbled upon a profound truth. Jesus's message of love and acceptance extended to all beings, regardless of their differences or abilities. His teachings were a reminder that we were all connected, and that our purpose in life was to love one another unconditionally.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I made a silent vow to myself. I would continue to embrace my abilities and strive to see the beauty in others, just as Jacob had seen it in me. Together, we would embark on a journey of understanding, compassion, and acceptance, spreading love wherever we went.

As I left the library that day, a sense of hope washed over me. I knew that the world could be a better place, one where differences were celebrated, and love prevailed. And as I stepped onto the bus, ready to return home, I couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of freedom. The path ahead may still be uncertain, but with love guiding my way, I knew that anything was possible.