A neighbor of mine cares for his teenage son who has autism on his own. 

Dad works remotely from home while Jack (not his real name) attends special classes during the day. 

When home, Jack requires constant redirection. His frustrations flow out in extreme ways demanding a dad who engages and explains repeatedly. 

Relief comes when Spotify and headphones meet the outdoors. Then Jack roams the yard in his own truly happy world.

I think of Jack’s dad often. The dashed dreams. The constant parenting. The lack of sleep and help.

The emotional roller coaster redefining his idea of normal.

For some gracious reason God ordained my parenting journey differently. Joys sharing the stage with stressors, yes. But no capital-S situations that demanded me reorder my entire life.

My valleys not as deep nor as long. My crises not lasting until heaven. 

My “overwhelming” times most definitely requiring air quotes.

Jack’s dad reminds me of Jesus. Infinite patience and unfettered love sprinkled into daily suffering.

Short of a miraculous turn around Jack is who Jack will be. Chances are you’ll not change him significantly. 

Take him or leave him. Accept him for who he is. Receive him as he is. 

Love him before. Love him during. Love him in spite of. 

If you’re waiting for him to change or mature or grow out of before you love him, you’ll miss out.

You’ll miss out on why Jesus planted Jack and his dad in your neighborhood.

Praise God for Jack. Praise God for his dad.