When I was a little girl I remember shaking my head at a story in the Old Testament. The Children of Israel had a ridiculously short attention span. On one page God had escorted them across the Red Sea in one of the greatest miracles in history, and on the next they were near mutiny over a lack of water. I wanted to shout to the people on the paper.

 

"Have you already forgotten? He rescued you from the Egyptian army! Made the wheels of their chariots fall off! Pushed aside the seawater so you could pass safely! You really think He can't get you a drink?"

 

It is handy that I recall that sentiment. Because it happens to apply to me. 

 

When Benjamin was five the district assigned him to a school half an hour away. The twins were two at the time, and I was incredulous at the suggestion that I ferry him back and forth each day. I had a chip the size of an anvil on my shoulder when I went to visit the classroom. But as soon as I met the teachers, and saw their compassion with the kids, I started to cry. Ben needed to be here. So it happened for the next four years that the girls and I spent two hours in the car getting him where he needed to go. I don't think they ever whined about the inconvenience. 

 

When he was fourteen the powers that be decided that he was ready for public high school. My hackles went up at the thought of leaving him as bully fodder in a situation where special needs kids were surrounded by normal ones. But I reluctantly gave it a chance. 

 

He thrived. The buddy system of regular students spending time playing games and cooking with the Life Skills ones created what I can only call a miracle. His face still lights up at the mention of buddies. He was, and I can hardly believe it, chosen as Student of the Month. 

 

Last spring he was invited to join an internship in preparation for an actual job.  I went along with it but must confess I was skeptical. I had trouble getting him to empty the dishwasher. Someone thought he would stack merchandise for six hours? But he has been reliable, if distracted by the company donuts. He graduates in three weeks. 

 

Ben is facing yet another transition. There are multiple moving parts, and while John and I spend time each week chasing down paperwork, and talking with professionals, it looks murky. His internship has been a platform for learning housekeeping and data entry, but what will the next step actually look like? It feels like I am stepping into eight feet of water. 

 

Maybe if I take a moment to remember how far we have come I will find peace in God's track record.