God Is Doing Something I Haven’t Seen Before

I woke up excited this morning.

I don’t have every answer. I don’t know exactly what God is building. But I can see Him reshaping things in my life, and something in my spirit keeps saying, “Pay attention. I’m doing something new.”

He’s changing my heart. My mind. My walk. My talk. Even the way I respond to things I cannot control.

When you begin to take your hands off situations you were never able to control anyway, you start recognizing how much God has been carrying all along.

And autism mom, there is something on my heart that I need you to hear.

The older our children get, the more time we have put in.

Read that again.

We have put in years of learning them. Years of showing up. Years of repeating the same instructions, building routines, adjusting expectations, praying, and trying again.

Somebody else may be investing years into a career or learning how to run a business. We are investing years into understanding our children and helping them navigate this world.

That work matters, even when the results take time to appear.

Sometimes you see your child remember something you have practiced for years. Sometimes you notice a moment of patience, a familiar routine becoming easier, or a response that catches you by surprise.

And you think, “Wait a minute. Look at you.”

Something is blossoming.

My oldest son is 17. My youngest is 14. My oldest has more support needs than his younger brother, but I can still see his maturity. I can see him growing into himself.

Their academic needs and social needs may look different, but they are still growing boys with their own personalities, preferences, and ways of showing us who they are.

I am learning to notice that growth without needing it to look like somebody else’s.

Every child’s growth looks different. I cannot promise another mom the same changes on the same schedule. But I can tell you that I am seeing things today that I could not see when we first started.

And it makes me thank God that I kept going.

Before this chapter of motherhood, I was a completely different person. I was loud, full of energy, ready to go somewhere and do something. I loved having fun. I moved freely through my days without understanding how much life could change.

Then came years when I felt overwhelmed, depressed, and unsure of myself.

I loved my children. I just did not know how to help them through everything we were facing.

There were things happening that I had never seen before. There were moments when the answers we received still did not tell me how to get through the next hour at home.

I remember asking God, “Help me. Help me understand. Help me learn what to do. Help me recognize You in a life that looks unfamiliar to me.”

My oldest was around six then.

He is 17 now.

There are years of prayers between those two ages.

Years of things people never saw. Years of work nobody applauded. Years when getting through the day took everything I had.

There were seasons when even going to the grocery store was difficult. My husband went to work, ran errands, and handled so many things outside the house while I stayed home with our son.

I remember deciding, “I will take this sacrifice. Lord, help me do it.”

That decision did not mean I never needed a break. I did. It did not mean I stopped having dreams of my own. I still had them.

But right there in those years, God kept meeting me.

He gave me moments of peace. Reasons to laugh. Strength to try again. Joy that could still find me inside the house, inside the routine, inside a life I was learning how to live.

Today, I can look back and recognize things I could not recognize while I was going through them.

I was learning patience. I was learning how to pay attention. I was learning how to speak up, how to adjust, and how to keep loving through uncertainty.

Now I see God opening opportunities for me to pour what I have learned into other people.

Different rooms. Different conversations. Different ways to serve.

I can see something taking shape that I did not even realize was being built. A business. A purpose. An opportunity to encourage another mother with something I once begged God to help me survive.

All I knew back then was that I needed Him.

And I still do.

When I talk about faith, I am talking about the prayers I prayed while I was tired. The times I asked questions and kept reaching for God anyway. The mornings I got up without knowing how the day would go.

My faith has carried me through seasons when I had very little evidence that anything was changing.

Having hard days did not mean I had failed God. Being exhausted did not mean I did not believe. Sometimes my prayer was simply, “Lord, I’m still here. Please help me.”

He met me there too.

So, autism mom, I want to encourage you today: be careful about measuring your whole life by what you feel you are missing.

I know there are invitations you could not accept. Places you could not go. Plans you had to change. I know that can hurt.

You are allowed to acknowledge that.

But there is also something being built in your life that deserves your attention. There is wisdom you have gained. There is love you have practiced. There are things you understand now because you kept showing up.

And you still have a future.

I am living in a season I have never seen before. Some days I look at what is in front of me and ask, “Lord, how am I going to do this?”

Then I wait. I pray. I take the next step I can see.

Little by little, things begin to take shape.

I cannot take all the credit for what is happening. I know how many times I did not have the answer. I know how many times I needed God to settle my mind before I could move forward.

That is why I am so excited today.

I believe He is preparing me to serve people in ways I have not served before. I am praying that what He has taught me will reach families who need encouragement, connection, and somebody willing to say, “I understand. Keep going.”

Jesus kept me, and I want to tell the truth about that.

On October 19, 2026, I do not have the whole picture. But I am grateful to be here, watching something new unfold.

He has the master plan.

And I am learning, day by day, to trust the Master with mine.

To God be the glory.