How to Encourage Families Going through an Autism Diagnosis

We recently bought baby-proof doorknob covers and locks for our cupboard doors—not because we have a baby on the way, but because we have a three-year-old who leaves the house unannounced and loves putting anything he finds in his mouth. 

Between November 2023 to January 2024, we finally had our year-long suspicions confirmed: Two of our three children have autism. With that word pronounced over two of my boys, relief, grief, and confusion flooded us. Tears, numbness, and wonder encompassed us all at once. Yet all the while, God ministered to us through his people as he always does, his Spirit reaching down to us through the hands and feet of fellow siblings in Christ who love our family. 

From Little to Large: Practical Ways to Help Families Facing an Autism Diagnosis

If you have loved ones entering the world of autism, whether they are still awaiting the official words or are already bearing the weight of the diagnosis, here are a few ways you can love them well.

Prayer. Anyone could use prayer, right? Better yet, ask them how you can pray for them.

Childcare. Caring for a child with special needs can be exhausting in more ways than one, so when people offer to play with our kids for a few hours so we can rest, get work or housework done, or simply catch our breath, it’s always appreciated. 

Take a night or early morning shift. One of our boys went through a phase of poor sleep, which meant we were not sleeping well. My father-in-law spent the night at our house with the kids so we could get a full night’s sleep, and my husband and I felt like a cloud had lifted. Andrew Wilson mentions in the book he co-wrote with his wife, The Life We Never Expected, that they had someone stay at their house once a week to get up with their son Zeke, who often woke between 3–4 a.m. During a season of many adjustments and exhausting days, having one day a week to sleep a full several hours made such a difference for both Andrew and his wife.

Allowing space to grieve. Grieving a special needs diagnosis is complicated. You don’t grieve who your child is or regret their life, but people can at times view our grieving as such. Yet, the grief over a special needs diagnosis is far from a hatred for the child or discontentment, but rather sadness over the life they never expected and the one they will not have. A lament is a biblical act of faith amid suffering and sadness, and one in which we should come alongside our fellow believers. 

Flexible playdates. Children with special needs sometimes require a different kind of playdate than typical children do. Sometimes they need space to move their bodies or a place to escape when interactions become too stimulating or frightening. Sometimes they need to make noises—or they need no extra noise at all. Sometimes playground equipment doesn’t offer much for them to do other than watch. Sometimes they need a few playdates to feel comfortable playing in a new place, so offer patience rather than judgment or pressure.

One of the struggles parents with special needs children have is that their children don’t often get invited to playdates because of their differences. Yet as believers, we know these children aren’t to be avoided but are to be loved with the same love Christ showed us. We have the beautiful opportunity to love “the least of these” when we invite them to play.

A Word Fitly Spoken: Encouraging Words for Families Facing an Autism Diagnosis

In church, it is unavoidable that we will have fellowship with others facing trials and situations we have never encountered before. Our hearts will ache, and words will dry up from our tongues as we face the awkwardness of not knowing what to say. As with all things, God calls us to wisdom and love. Here are a few simple phrases you can use to comfort your friends.

He’s still the boy you love. As we spent a year in limbo, wondering and waiting for a diagnosis, there was one phrase spoken to me long before I ever had children: “He’s still him.”

A family friend had just received an autism diagnosis. After telling us how much they wept and wrestled, the father said to me, “But in the end, I’m comforted by reminding myself that this diagnosis doesn’t change him from being the funny, energetic, loveable boy I’ve always known. He hasn’t changed; this has simply helped us understand him better.”

We must remember this as we strive to serve one another amid such heartbreaking diagnoses. They are not a disability: They are another person made in the image of God; another person given a beautiful personality, heart, mind, and body, and we are called to them as such. Don’t treat them as a disability to handle with care, to walk on eggshells around, to be fixed, or to keep a good distance from. Treat them as one loved and crafted by the sovereign hands of a good, good Father.

This is not your fault. As parents, we often heap guilt upon ourselves every time our children struggle. If only I had noticed earlier, if only I had breastfed longer, if only I had sought help earlier, if only I had eaten healthier during pregnancy . . . and so forth. Sometimes we even look at our past sins and resolve that our children’s struggles must be a result of a sin from our past. Yet as Jesus said to his disciples, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3). 

This may not be the life you expected, but God will and already has prepared you. I stood in my basement talking on the phone with an occupational therapist, and I laughed at the simplicity of some of the strategies she gave me and how I never once thought of them. She replied, “Be easy on yourself; this is not the life you expected or envisioned, and it’s okay to acknowledge that.” I nearly busted into tears. Later that week, as I told a friend my fears and feelings of inadequacies for the task ahead of me, she replied, “God will provide what you need each day and equip you to be the best mom for your child.” She reminded me that I’m not yet prepared for what lies ahead three years from now, but he will give me what I need for today.

Take Caution: What Not to Say to Parents of Children with Special Needs

If only you did this . . . then your child would get better. This statement is probably untrue, and likely the family is seeking out whatever resources are available to them. Yes, offer help if they ask and gently share resources you may come across, but never pose a simple solution—because people and diagnoses are far too complicated for that. You will either raise their hopes only to have them crushed, cause unnecessary guilt, or make all their work seem trite.

It’s normal! Don’t worry about it! These words have escaped my mouth as a desperate mom worried over her child who was not meeting developmental milestones. I believed these to be words of comfort and reassurance, but when they were spoken to me, I realized how dismissive they sounded. Sometimes when I shared my concerns, the person passed over them with a shrug and a hand wave. This frustrated me because I knew what I saw was real and not normal, yet it seemed some people believed I was giving into the “overdiagnosis culture” or being paranoid. At times, parents need to be assured not that their child is developing normally, but that seeking professional help will likely cause no harm.

It’s probably time to stop having kids now. Every child, whether special needs or not, is made in God’s image and worthy of life. This statement implies the child we currently would be better off if he died, and as ones who strive to honor and protect all life, these should never be the words on our lips.

Sometimes, if words completely evade us, the best we can do is take their hand and ask, “May I pray with you right now?” and give wisdom time to form the most God-honoring response. 

The Church: The Hands and Feet of Jesus

God provided people from the past—back when my first son was minuscule and nestled in my womb—who spoke words to us unknowingly that we’d cling to in this very season. He provided people locally—blood family, spiritual family, and a host of specialists—who adore our children in different ways and do all that they can to support and love us. He provided people across the globe who have written their testimonies, people I’ve never met face-to-face, who shared their stories with bravery. And God can use you as well to do the same for any family in your church facing an autism diagnosis.

Lara d’Entremont

Lara d’Entremont is a wife, mother, and the author of A Mother Held: Essays on Anxiety and Motherhood. While the wildlings snore, she primarily writes—whether it be personal essays, creative nonfiction, or fantasy novels. She desires to weave the stories between faith and fiction, theology and praxis, for women who feel as if these pieces of them are always at odds. Much of her writing is inspired by the forest and ocean that surround her, and her little ones that remind her to stop and see it. You can find more of her writing at laradentremont.com.

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