A whisper.
A small, warm body crawling into my bed and nestling deep into me.
Laying there in silence, just enjoying each other's presence and the comfort that comes from that kind of close connection.
Then... a caress. He placed his hand on my face and literally stroked it.
Tears.
The ten minutes or so that we lay there together this morning filled my heart to overflowing.
The mutual nature of the moment lifted the cloud that often lies over my heart in regard to Davy... and blew it away.
My little boy has come so far.
It's hard to explain what it's like to raise a child with autism. It's hard to help others understand the kind of patience, restraint, focus, and selflessness that parenting him requires.
We stay pretty near a state of total exhaustion at all times.
But this child, this wonderfully complicated child, has deepened us in a way that no other life experience could.
And the rewards, when they come, are worth more. They mean more.
I don't mean to diminish the significant moments that come with raising our other three (neuro-typical) kiddos. Those are incredibly meaningful and life-changing. Being mom to them is one of the greatest joys of my life.
But I have many beautiful memories of cuddling with each of them in bed. So many.
With Davy, I now have one. Its value is beyond measure.
When we first received Davy's diagnosis, my mom began praying Ephesians 3:20-21 over him. I have prayed it, too. But my mom prays with faith and expectation. My prayers are more like cries from the depths of my heart. Sometimes they're even wordless cries.
He hears both. I know He does. He hears me and forms into words what I cannot - making my prayers more than I can ask or think.
And then does exceedingly abundantly more.
