Discovered this good poem by John Roedel, a father of a boy with Autism on Twitter today:
Me: Hey God.
God: Hey John.
Me: Cure Autism.
God: There is nothing to cure.
God: People living with autism aren’t broken. They aren’t sick. They are just people singing a beautiful song with lyrics that are foreign to you.
Me: But sometimes I can’t understand what song my son is singing…
God: That’s okay – forget about the lyrics and just sit back and enjoy the lovely melody.
Me: I don’t like to see him struggle.
God: The prettiest of flowers always struggle right before the bloom.
Me: If you won’t cure Autism – what will you do?
God: I’ll have you help Me cure something else.
Me: What’s that?
Me: Am I really qualified to be helping you with that?
God: I can think of no better person.