Welcome to a guest blog: “Speaking of Giants” by Houston Author JM Jordan. JoAnna and I met in a zoom breakout room at the 2021 Houston Writer’s Guild virtual conference. She writes Christian Fiction and YA Fantasy. She shares her home with her sons and spoiled fur babies. Spending free time at the beach, reading fantasy novels, or playing card games with friends are her favorite pastimes.
As a young girl, I couldn’t think of a giant without two immediate figures coming to mind. First, David with his rock and sling standing against the scary Goliath. Second, the Big Friendly Giant (The BFG) written about by Roald Dahl who loved an orphan and tried his best to keep her safe. These were the fabled giants of my youth, one scary and one marvelous. Now in adulthood, I’ve added one more giant to that list, my 6’5″ autistic son, Kyle. He is our giant miracle.
Isn’t that how giants can be categorized in all our lives? The scary, the good, and the miraculous. Join me as we take a moment to focus on the miraculous.
Of course, when believers think of the most miraculous giant in their lives it should be the Lord. In all His humble glory He descended in meekness and provided the ultimate gift for each of us. He is the giant of my heart. Do you hear a “but” coming? I do. In this fallen world, though I was introduced to my Savior at a young age, a terrible Goliath descended upon my life and wreaked havoc. The damage was vast. I had little understanding of how to reclaim what had been destroyed and so I set out with my own will in a fallen world. Things did not go well, but God is good and would provide.
Shortly before my 22nd birthday, I gave birth to my second son. The pregnancy was nearly perfect. I was happy and healthy and certainly thought he was. When he came into the world, I knew his lack of crying was a problem. In true mama—bear form, I attempted to climb off that delivery table to reach him, but was held back. A few short moments later I heard his precious first cries. With the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, my precious baby had nearly died. As I later learned, a nurse told my sister Kyle needed a reason to live. Their work and prayer over my little one worked.
Kyle was perfect. Round, beautiful, observant, and quiet. Too quiet. By eighteen months it was clear something wasn’t right. When he turned two, I grappled with acceptance that there were significant delays. By three years old we had a firm diagnosis. Sweet Kyle, who had developed a language and hand-signs of his own, was autistic. Little did I know as I drifted through thoughts of his uncertain future that God had sent me a miraculous giant who would anchor me from jumping off proverbial cliffs.
In Search of One
Kyle didn’t solve my problems of faith and other bad habits that I picked up in the process of running off self-will. Kyle is not my savior. He is a manifestation of my Savior’s love and understanding of my needs. But with that came challenges to surmount. I think of the parable where the Shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. Nobody talks about that journey and how the one was found, likely in some obscure place with varied hardships in the rescuing.
My sweet son didn’t speak well until he was nearly four. We had to break through his own stubborn language. Even then, he didn’t want to speak in pre-school, but he was so smart! He kept up with his brothers, always had a smile, and loved – loved – loved all things Halloween and Christmas. In order to create an academic plan for his future, we had to get him to talk at school. We threatened to record him talking at home and show it to his teachers. Kyle gave up the ruse and has been talking with his sweet studder ever since.
There is one night I remember when I knew in my heart, he was here to take care of me, and not the other way around. Young and immature, I had no idea that I was fighting against generational traumas, addictive behaviors, and a healthy dose of PTSD. I was a yeller of drastic proportions. In a furious moment with my spouse, I began to raise my voice and heard Kyle coming up the steps to our kitchen where I sat at my desk. He was but a toddler. He waddled into the room with his t-shirt hanging over his diaper, looked me dead in the eyes with tenderness, held up his little hand, and said, “Stop!”
Out of the Mouth of Babes
No judgement. No anger. No reviling. What I saw in his little face was love and tolerance with a longing for me to know peace. His actions and little word brought me up short. This was the first of so many moments where Kyle has been a giant miracle in our family’s life. His presence has restored hope and become a physical manifestation of the Maker’s love for me and my life.
As Kyle has grown, he has chosen the nickname of Kaiju (“giant monster” in Japanese). How appropriate! He is my partner and friend. You would be hard-pressed to find a more obedient child. Often, I’ve been complimented by how well we did parenting him and his autism. I can NEVER take credit. Kyle came the way he is and in full transparency, Kyle did way more parenting of me over these 23 years.
Not all humans get a giant Kaiju sent to them from God. My question for you is, can you see a miraculous giant, maybe many in your life? If not, I urge you to go to God in humble prayer and ask to see. Trust me, they are there. God is aware of each of us and sends us the most miraculous giants to yoke us to His rich goodness. In a world of growing tempests and strife, we will need these miraculous giants more than ever. Let us not forget that God has sent us many gifts of all sizes and proportions if we will but accept His grace.
Whatever is good and perfect
Is a gift coming down to us
From God our Father,
Who created all the lights in the heavens.
James 1:17 (NLT)
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