From Stunning Defeat to Victory

“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us” Ephesians 3:20

I wrote this line something like two weeks ago: “I wonder why our son’s autism causes him to struggle to connect so much that even a simple handshake can be a major victory or the lack of one can be such a stunning defeat.” We had been to Korbin’s eighth-grade awards assembly. The principal made a point to talk directly to the kids. He did not do this from a podium. He walked right up to them and told them he was proud of them. He reminded them that this ceremony was not the end. Rather, it was a point on the way to their destination. He also talked about the importance of a handshake, what it meant. He demonstrated it.

Unfortunately, when our son approached the podium there was no attempt at a handshake. I felt my heart drop. I thought I was probably the only one who noticed. My wife noticed too. Keep in mind that I have worked on shaking hands with my son since he was three. He is now 15 and literally every morning we do it. I hold onto his hand and make him look at me. I say something to him. We have a moment.

I could not stop thinking about it so I called him. I knew we had a graduation coming up. He explained that he had tried before but Korbin would not allow him to. This made sense to me because I know Korbin does not like physical contact. He does not make eye contact easily. A handshake sort of combines his worst fears. We discussed it a bit and I just told him he could push my son. The expectation should be the same for him.

The principal told me he would go to Korbins classroom and make him practice. I backed this up at home by saying “Congratulations” instead of my normal morning routine. His teacher even sent a picture of one of the practice sessions at school. Then came graduation. Lots of accomplishments. Some kids have gone three years with a 4.0 GPA. There are a lot of kids even at that young age who have done some pretty amazing things. We were literally praying for a simple handshake.

Korbin’s name got called. Our son walked up, looked his principal right in the eye and shook his hand. My heart was actually racing. Then I noticed something. Just like I do every morning. The principal did not let go of his hand. He leaned in. He had something to say to him. I will never forget it. They had a moment.

I went to the principal after the ceremony and I had tears in my eyes. So did he. I said “You were born for this job.” He proceeded to say “Did you see what your son just did!” He was as happy about it as I was.

As we sat there that night, I thought about how much our son had grown. When he was diagnosed at three we were told we had a two year window to reach him. That was 12 years ago. He tested at “Severe Impairment”. It was daunting. We have been blessed at every grade level with people working with him. He has done things we never thought he would be able to do. He has grown more in the last four years than I have at any interval of my life.

Then I hear that the next day, his last at that school, his entire team walked him home. All of them in tears. My wife in tears. At the corner across the street from our house Korbin looked every one of them in the eye. Not casually. Like only Korbin can. I cannot describe it. He sort of reads your soul. And he will not let someone he cares about have stress without intervening. For about three days after he kept asking about them by name. We had to keep assuring him that they were okay. For a kid who was supposed to be unreachable he sure has figured out a way to reach people.

We could not be more proud of him. This event got me thinking that God is probably proud of us. He sees how far we have grown in faith. Or maybe He sees how hard we have tried, even though progress looks very small to everyone else.

What do you think this is impossible in your life?

Who told you it was impossible and why did you believe them?

Challenge: Keep miracles in mind. Write down where you are in pursuing this. Keep it somewhere that you will find it later. Then keep praying.

Rick Claiborn