God hears my prayers. And He answers me, although not often in my timeframe. It’s especially exciting when He answers my requests with a “Yes.” It may not be the way I plan or on the day I’ve inked in “Miracle” on my old-school calendar hanging in the kitchen, but it happens just the way it should, when it should.
Since the end of May, I’d been wondering what Cowboy’s future would look like. After several months of coronavirus changes, aka Creative Quarantining, we’d adjusted. But when August rolled around, Cowboy fully realized what it meant that his high school transition program had ended for him. He often told me in sign language that he was sad. Cowboy needed someone other than his mother who could help him navigate this new life phase and walk him through the steps to finding employment.
I prayed for a miracle. But not simply a generic miracle. No, I prayed for a specific miracle named Radar.
I’d met Radar when Cowboy was in elementary school. At the time, I’d advocated for more summer school for Cowboy, due to his behavioral regression during summers. Life at home was rough; I needed help. Rather than receiving more weeks of summer school, we were awarded Radar as our in-home trainer for 10 hours a week. We’d won the lottery. Radar was amazing with Cowboy, helping him with challenging behaviors and raising the bar for him. I offered Radar free room and board, but, darn the luck, he had a life beyond ours.
For years, I wondered where he’d gone after he left our school district. Repeatedly, especially when times were tough, I wished we could hire him to work with Cowboy again. Then, two years ago, he showed up at our autism support group’s annual picnic. There he was, standing right in front of me, and I, being eternally poised in any situation, freaked.
“Oh my gosh, Radar. I’ve been thinking of you for years. I can’t believe this. Where have you been?”
Before he could answer, I saw he was accompanying my friend Becca, her husband Humphrey, and their teenage son, Kahana. I’d known them for years, but had no idea Radar was working as Kahana’s attendant.
“This is incredible,” I exclaimed, after which my friends listed all the improvements Kahana had made since they hired Radar.
I was envious. Lovingly, of course. Becca told me they met Radar through my friend Zandra; Radar was working for Zandra’s brother, Grant. It was a small world in which word had spread of Radar’s many talents. Before the picnic was over, I told Radar, “We’d love to hire you if your schedule ever changes.” With his working for a school district as well as two families, I doubted he’d have time. Eight months later, as Cowboy and our family were enduring one of the most heartbreaking seasons of our lives, Becca was a lifeline for me. I never told her I wished we had Radar’s help, but one day she said, “You should call Radar and see if he can work for y’all this summer.”
What a kind, generous thing to say, I thought, not wanting to take away any of Radar’s hours from the other two families. She explained he only worked with their son on the weekends, and that maybe he would like the extra work during the summer. I texted Radar, and we talked at length. Thank God, he was interested. I warned him of how rough things had been. But he was undaunted, explaining that he loves working with individuals with behavior challenges and anxiety. He enjoys that. I was praying for peace daily, constantly wondering if and when things would get better, adjusting meds and supplements to balance Cowboy’s brain chemicals, worrying deep into the night at times – and that Caped Crusader told me he enjoyed helping with behavior issues. Truly, he is gifted. We outlined our schedules, and Radar worked with Cowboy for weeks. It felt like he’d saved our lives, and Cowboy flourished during their time together. Once again, God had said, “Yes,” and I could breathe again.
When school started in August 2019, things were still shaky for Cowboy; his chemicals were still not balanced, and the medicine titration game continued. When his transition center was no longer appropriate for him, he returned to the high school program, which was life-changing for us. Then, everything ended in May 2020. At the prompting of Zandra, whose expertise is employment for people with challenges, we applied for a summer employment pilot program. But the coronavirus stopped yet another set of cogs from running smoothly. It seemed we were out of options for vocational training or finding a job. Cowboy continued to tell me he was sad, and told me he wanted to work.
“A 22-year-old who wants to work. Now that could be considered a modern-day miracle,” I told friends. But we were stuck, with no clear path.
Secretly, known only to me and God, I wanted that miracle named Radar again; he’d be the perfect person to help Cowboy with employment. It had been over a year since we’d seen him, and I knew his schedule was packed. I continued to pray the pilot program would come through for us. I prayed Cowboy would have a competent job coach in that program. I prayed, most of all, that God would direct Cowboy’s future, and that He’d help me trust Him.
Then, two months ago, Zandra called me.
“I have a Plan B for Cowboy,” she said. Zandra is the epitome of optimism; she always travels with a Plan B in her pocket.
“Okay,” I answered, wondering what on earth this brilliant, always-thinking-of-ways-to-help-others friend could possibly have up her sleeve.
“How would you like to team up with our family and with Becca’s family, and be the third family that employs Radar? We would be Radar’s new career, and he would be Cowboy’s employment assistant.”
Now, dear reader, there are times when I might say “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.” Then there are times I say, “Yes, but I need to think about that.”
This was neither of those instances. Before she got to the question mark in her proposition, a resounding “Yes” was flying out of my mouth.
God had this planned all along. During all those nights of wondering, and all the tedious days of praying for Cowboy to have the desire of his heart, God was orchestrating in ways only He can. And, yet again, He gave me the desire of my heart.
“Radar wants to retire from the district,” she continued, explaining how he could make this change possible.
“What did Radar say about working for us, too?” I asked.
“Oh, I haven’t presented it to him or Becca yet; I wanted to see if you’d be interested.”
I laughed out loud. Leave it to Zandra to have the perfect plan, including details of all the paperwork to be filled out over the next few weeks, before any of us even knew what she was cooking up. I was ecstatic. The daydreaming commenced. I didn’t know exactly what employment assistance would look like, but anything involving Radar is always a Godsend. I'd told Cowboy we’d be hiring an assistant for him, but I dared not tell him it would be Radar; I would've heard Cowboy repeat "Radar" for the next three weeks.
Finally, when all was done, I sat Cowboy down for the big reveal.
"We’ve found someone to be your employment assistant, Cowboy," I explained.
He nodded.
"Do you know who your helper will be?"
After making a couple of wrong guesses, his eyes widened. His excitement was electric, filling the air around us.
"We’ve hired Radar to work with you."
Cowboy stared into my soul while he processed the good news. Two seconds later, the name spelling began. But I didn't mind. I was so excited, I almost joined in.
Day 1 of employment assistance consisted of Cowboy’s completing on-line assessments to better define his job interests and strengths. But for Cowboy, the high point of Day 1 was their going out to eat Bourbon Chicken, Cowboy’s favorite mall food. That evening, Zandra hosted a Zoom meeting consisting of our family, Radar, and several friends and professionals who contributed to a conversation regarding Cowboy’s future employment. We examined his strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats in potential jobs; the data would help Radar in assisting Cowboy.
On Day 2, there were more assessments, then Radar informed me, "We're working on his resume today." His resume. I was stunned. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought of Cowboy having a resume based on his vocational training experience and volunteer work.
After six months of spending so much extra time together with Cowboy, it has been strange to have time to myself.
“You need to have a life too,” Radar had said, when we were forming his work schedule. To accommodate Cowboy’s new schedule, my getting up early is now a habit. Those who know me best would consider that yet another miracle; I’m a recovering night owl.
On Day 3, Radar took Cowboy to Target to do some job shadowing – following an employee around to learn different tasks. Cowboy enjoyed going into the warehouse and watching how employees scan merchandise labels to see where items get placed in the store. Cowboy was able to help with the work, and came home thrilled about his adventure.
On Day 5, as I sat in my Bible study group that morning, I received a text from Radar. “Cowboy can interview with a local delivery service tomorrow at 10 a.m. Is this okay with you?”
I stared at my phone, as my heart raced, deaf to all conversation except the one on my phone screen. My world changed with one text.
“Whaaaatttt??? Gasp. Yes,” I texted back.
Words can’t describe my emotions after sending that text – it was Christmas, New Year’s Eve and my birthday all rolled into one big party in my mind. My baby – my young man - who has struggled so much and worked so hard was going to his first interview. I wanted to run out into the streets and shout my good news to the universe.
“We drove to the business we’ll be going to in the morning,” Radar told me that afternoon, “so Cowboy will be more comfortable going to a new place.” That preparation came naturally to Radar; I would have never thought of it.
The next morning was surreal as Cowboy and Radar left the house. Radar had told Cowboy what to expect and to use his iPad to communicate. When they arrived, there were about 10 other applicants for the position. Cowboy was relaxed until they called him name; it was his turn next. Radar instructed him take deep breaths, then they walked in together to meet the Human Resources woman who was conducting the interview.
Cowboy typed his full name into his iPad, to introduce himself. Of course, some might say this next detail was coincidence; but I know God had arranged this meeting – the HR representative has a nephew with autism, so she understood some of Cowboy’s mannerisms and distractions during the interview, and accommodated him well. She was honest about her concerns, but also suggested other positions within the company that she felt might be a good fit for Cowboy. I was impressed by her sincere interest in employing him. She explained it would be a couple of weeks before Cowboy would hear anything back from her.
“Cowboy was very polite, answered questions on his iPad, and did very well,” Radar told me. “He even wrote ‘I work here’ on his iPad during the interview.”
Since then, Cowboy’s been talking about that job possibility almost daily. In the meantime, he and Radar continue to go out into the community and look for jobs, with Cowboy choosing where he wants to work. They’ve submitted applications for other jobs, and Radar is helping Cowboy adjust to using his laptop on his own.
Last week, Radar politely suggested I go do something else while Cowboy cooked his own breakfast; my son often steps up to new tasks when I’m not in the room. Cowboy even cooked breakfast for me one morning; those were the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever eaten.
This letting go and stepping back phase takes continual adjusting and reexamining. After 22 years of doing routine tasks for Cowboy, I feel a little out of place. It’s hard to know how to fill my time when I’m not as needed. He’s moving further away from me as his constant source of help, as it should be. One day, perhaps soon, Cowboy will be a working man. Radar will assist him on the job site until Cowboy is ready to fly solo, which could take quite some time. Or Cowboy may choose, with Radar’s help, to be self-employed; my son has plenty of talents to do so. Either way, it will be another transition for both of us when he enters the working world.
And so, I’ll pray. And I’ll wonder how to function. Then God will answer in ways only He can, lighting my next step on my path to letting go and Cowboy’s next step on his path to independence, both paths sprinkled with miracles along the way.