Purpose High

Autism hurts. It hurts every day, every night. Weekends and holidays, it hurts. The pain is real and raw. When I received the first of two diagnoses of autism over two decades ago, it was as if God was in the room with me. I imagined Him there as the doctor's words hung in the silent space of dismay. I visualized God handing me a box, unwrapped and plain looking. Once home, I dropped to my knees, removed the lid, turned the box upside down, and emptied its contents all over the floor. God h...