Benjamin SMidt
My name is Benjamin Smidt. I am 17 years old, with autism, and live in a north suburb of Chicago. I communicate using a letter board and attend my local high school and love being able to fully participate in all my general education classes. I'm a very active person. You'll find me jumping or rollerblading. You might just have a hard time keeping up with me :-)..
Coronavirus 2020
(March 17, 2020)
I’m standing in the depths of black turmoil awaiting my prison sentence determination
Length unfair, time unknown and undecided
Fighting to stay sane but underneath
Piles of I don’t knows
Anxiety as high as the sky
I’m afraid and overwhelmed
I wish I knew more
Can’t God heal everyone right now?
Dirty
Hope!
(2018)
I. Do you ever feel trapped with no way out? Only thoughts, and no vehicle to deliver those thoughts? That was my life, and I was trapped with no exit. This was the case until I was 12 years old. I wanted to talk so bad it piloted my every prayer. Hope comforted me, because I knew that one day God would answer my prayer. So, in 6th grade, a necessary connection was made and the rest is now the story titled ‘Hope!’
II. During my sixth grade year, I wasn’t able to do much of anything. I had no challenge, no friendships, and I deeply craved both of those things. I always just wanted to die, because I had no life- at least that was my perception at the time. At school, I worked on getting the basics. They had no clue that I already knew them, and I would get so frustrated and livid when I couldn’t show them the correct response. I so desired to learn, yet at that time my dream was off the table. I did have two good things going for me, though, my family and trust in God! I had a mustard seed of faith, and a hope that God would eventually send the sunshine. That was my comfort at the time.
Hope! (cont.)
III. In the second semester of 6th grade, everything started to become hopeful. In December, my parents had met a lady from a church nativity program named Kristen. I started working with her a few times a week. She had given me a ton of challenges. I was introduced to so many rich topics: pre-algebra, poetry, wars, and hard readings that actually made me think. It was so exciting for me, but also so terrifying and hard. During the first few months, my arms ached because I was pointing and using my arms, wrist, and fingers for long periods of time. My challenges during my RPM lessons were major during the time as concentration, sitting, thinking, and writing were all unpracticed things. Yet, I grew and all of that became another common practice in my life.
I was also afraid that eventually I would fail. I didn’t know if I would ever have a voice, like I do now. Still, I worked. Soon I had choices, and then a word. I never knew how liberating one word would be, but I finally was able to express. That had never been plausible or attainable in my life. It was a big ordeal.
IV. A couple of months later, one word turned into a sentence and that turned into paragraphs and essays. Conditions in my life began to change, because I was now heard. Life became beautiful. I could have friends, go to school, take finals, chat with my parents and cousins, have a sleepover with a friend, share at church and the list goes on and on. I was freed from the snares of hopelessness.
V. In all of this, I found part of my purpose- even though at times I still get too emotionally involved with what I lack ;). I have, though, learned much. I now treasure what I was taught by the Lord- beauty comes from overcoming pain and obstacles in life. You see, during that time of anguish and anger towards God, I hoped that one day God would eventually use it all and make a treasure from all the pain. He did just that, and since finding my voice, I am hopeful.
That is how hope came to be.