Trash Dance

The following article originally posted by the author at Faithwriters.comhttps://www.faithwriters.com/wc-article-level2-previous.php?id=57487

I often find myself walking behind my little boy. When he was small, he would let me hold his hand and we'd walk together. He’s ten now, and when we go places, he’s sure to be at least ten paces ahead of me, innocently detached physically and socially. So many things are different when your child has autism. I've grown accustomed to it, this arrangement of ours. God has taught me a lot through the simple act of walking behind Daniel and watching him from a distance. 

This cool January morning, he walks ahead of me as we make our way to the school playground. No school today, so we have the whole place to ourselves. It's trash day and we've come here to watch the garbage trucks drive around the school. Daniel's passion for these rubbish-eating titans knows no bounds. Nothing else matters right now. Nothing. 

Positioned at his favorite vantage point, he plants his feet firmly, ears attuned to the sound of the approaching truck. It's coming. His feet move faster across the grassy field, his steps quickening into short sprints moving toward the sound of the engine. He's running now. He is joyous.

The mint-green garbage truck pulls into view through the chain-link fence surrounding the school. Daniel's excitement reaches a fever pitch as he hotfoots it across the playground, wood chips scattering around his feet. He stops for a moment, rising up on his tiptoes, watching as the metal claw of the side-loader opens to receive the green bin. The arms of the claw close around it, hugging the bin tightly as it makes its journey up the carriage to the hopper, dumping its contents with a dramatic flip. This is his favorite part. This is what we’ve come for.

He turns back toward me, pivoting on his toes.

"Mommy! Look!" 

I smile and nod, feeling his contagious joy. 

He darts off in the direction of the departing truck, keeping its silhouette in his field of vision until it disappears around the corner. His trash dance is over. It’s time to go home. I lead the way as he lags behind, reluctant to leave.

As I walk, I pray, "Lord, thank you for this special child. This is a challenging walk You have us on, but You promise to go before us, and You do. May Daniel always follow after You, his feet firmly planted in faith, and Your Word the joy of his heart."

He’s ahead of me now, and I just smile.

Proverbs 4:26 (NASB)

"Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established."