"The Life We Never Expected"

Andrew & Rachel Wilson’s new book, The Life We Never Expected, offers “hopeful reflections on the challenges of parenting children with special needs” (from Crossway, 2016).  Andrew is a pastor in London.

“This is a book about surviving, and thriving, spiritually when some­thing goes horribly wrong.  In our case, that ‘something’ was discov­ering that both of our children had regressive autism” (p. 13).  They’ve written the book for “anyone who is suffering at the moment and wants to know how to lament, worship, pray, wait, and hope” (14).

Rachel shares her heart for the world—how she’d once imagined her “mission field might be a brothel of trafficked women or a school­yard of African orphans” (38).  But her Good Shepherd led her to an unexpected mission field “with these two beautiful, bottomless wells who require all my energy, strength, and patience.”  And yet, don’t get the impression Rachel is consumed by parenting 24/7:  “I love my kids most not by loving them the most but by first loving God” (43).

Andrew explores spiritual lament:  it is a lost art, yet so very valuable.  Lament is more than crying—it’s about bringing your sorrows to God (53-55).  And lament helps you handle the grief.  So call out to God:  Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!  O Lord, hear my voice!...  I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope (from Psalm 130).

Rachel & Andrew wrestle long and hard with prayer—about answers, and non-answers; about God’s timing for healing:  “We should expect both miracles and disappointments, physical healing and physical death, to form part of our experience until Jesus returns” (110).  “So we pray for healing.  We believe God can heal our children.  And we trust him when he doesn’t, knowing that one day he will” (112)—even if that day only arrives with the life to come.

The Wilsons offer guidance on what to say those hit by disabili­ties.  Just say, “That is so hard, and I am so sorry” (126).  Don’t try to offset the sadness with “But then again.”  Don’t try to analyze the loss.  And don’t point out how others have it worse (“Look on the bright side”).  Instead, be present, listen, love, and weep with those who weep.  And practice acts of kindness with no strings attached—it shows you care.