When Progress Isn’t Linear: Expectations Vs. Grace-Filled Goals

The Straight Line I Used to Believe In

I used to think progress looked like a straight line. Like a staircase, each step followed neatly after the last, moving further, better. Especially when it came to parenting — I thought if we did the right therapies, prayed the right prayers, and stuck to the plan, our daughter would meet each milestone right on schedule.

But autism doesn’t work like that.
And honestly, neither does life.

The Winding Path of Growth

Our daughter, Claire, has taught me more about growth and grace than I ever could have learned from a textbook or checklist. Her journey hasn’t followed a straight line. It’s been more like a winding path — with surprises, long pauses, some backward steps, and moments that take finally click.

In the early days, I held tightly to expectations. I thought if we just worked hard enough, she’d catch up. I felt this invisible pressure — from the world, from my own fears — to measure her progress. To make sure we were doing enough. I wanted to check off boxes. To have answers. To feel in control.

But that mindset quickly led to exhaustion.
Because children aren’t projects. They’re people.
And progress isn’t a race — it’s a relationship.

Expectations vs. Grace-Filled Goals

Over time (and with more tears and prayers than I care to count), God began to shift my heart. He showed me the difference between expectations and goals.

Expectations say: “This must happen, in this way, by this time.”
Goals say: “Let’s aim for growth, with grace.”

Expectations are heavy. They carry disappointment when things don’t go as planned.
Goals are lighter. They hold hope, not pressure.

Now, instead of expecting Claire to reach a milestone by a certain age, we celebrate each small step she does take — in her own time, in her own way. We still work hard. We still dream big. But we’ve let go of rigid timelines. We’ve replaced comparison with compassion. Control with curiosity.

And you know what? There’s so much joy in that.

What Progress Really Looks Like

We’ve learned that a “good day” isn’t measured by how much was accomplished, but by how much connection we felt. Sometimes progress looks like a new word. Sometimes it looks like sitting calmly through a car ride – This is HUGE for Claire! And sometimes it’s just making it through the day with love and laughter still intact.

Recently, after Claire’s leg surgery, I found myself slipping into that old mindset. Watching her relearn how to walk brought back all the emotions I felt when she was three — working so hard, step by step. I started to wonder:
What if she doesn’t get back to where she was? What if we’re falling behind again?

But the truth is, we weren’t going backwards.

We are simply moving differently.

Progress sometimes looks like rest. Like pausing to heal. Like holding someone’s hand and saying, “It’s okay to take your time.”

Becoming, Not Behind

I’ve learned that the pace of grace is never rushed. And when I can slow down enough to match Claire’s rhythm — to see the world through her eyes — I realize that she’s not just growing, she’s becoming. And I am too.

So if you’re in the middle of your own winding journey — whether it’s parenting a child with special needs, walking through a season of uncertainty, or simply trying to figure things out — I want you to hear this:

It’s okay if it doesn’t look like you thought it would.
It’s okay if it’s slower than you hoped.
It’s okay if some days feel like survival.
It’s okay.