The Making of a Miracle - Part 2

To recap the last post:

 * My parents moved to Abbotsford, BC (what does this have to do with anything? Just wait... you'll see) 

 * 4 years later, we decided to move to Kelowna, BC. (no where close to my parents) 

 * We had no real steady job, no plan, no provisions for Lindsay's needs.  

 * Ridiculous, crazy, scary, maybe somewhat mental.

Now that the decision was made, I knew I had a go ahead from the big guy in the sky to starting planning and looking into the services that Sweet Pea would need. (I love planning!!)

I started with a phone call.
Bad idea..HUGE.

I spoke to a woman in the government office that said the following encouraging words to me:

• Why are you moving here? Don't move here. It's a bad idea.
• This is the worst province in Canada to move to with a special needs.
• Stay where you are or go to another province.
• There is NO WAY you will get anywhere near the support your are currently receiving.
• You will be placed on a waiting list, and it will be a long one.  Don't do it.

Well.............how inspiring!!
Nice. I thanked the kind (negative, downer) lady and booked an appointment to start the process of application of services at the doomsday province. Couldn't wait to get there.
Now what?

The decision was made, resignations made, friends and family were informed, and all I had to hang onto was this discussion between me and God. Now that's logical! Good thing I had a history to this friendship. He was an honest friend, and had never let me down. I had to lean into His voice with trust and a sense of faith like I had never experienced in my life.

Why oh why had I ever prayed to be bold and courageous???

Could we just rewind the tape, and put everything back to the way it was? You know, rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby?
Nope. Too late.

You never get to a miracle by going back to the way it was.
1st ingredient for a miracle:

1. Have an impossible situation.

So, in the fall of 2005, we started planning and packing for the big scary move. The months of transition proved to be difficult. Transition includes emotions like:

• God, what have I done?
• Why? What is going to happen to me, to us?
• But I will be losing this! I will miss that!
• I can't see anything coming down the road
• I think I might be losing my mind

Since that time, I've done some research on transition and discovered that these are necessary steps in order to truly move forward and advance. Transition also includes things like confusion, doubt and grief. All necessary emotions to fully process and not stuff, in order to truly let go and move forward. I liken transition to something like leaping off a cliff or a trapeze bar into mid air.

If you want to read more about transition, go to this post or to this one.
Once again... I digress... back to the story.

Around the same time as we were packing and saying our goodbye's.. my dad was across the other side of the country out for a walk. One crisp fall day, he decided to take a long walk down the street he lived on. As he scurried along the street, (Yup, my dad scurries, he doesn't stroll, and hence, neither do I. Don't you love it when you can blame one of your annoying traits on your parents?!), he scurried walked by an office called:

Bethesda 
Supporting individuals with disabilities and their families since 1971

Huh!  He thought.
Maybe I should see what this is about.? Maybe they have a place like this in Kelowna? I should go see what this place is about.

So, in he went. My dad's not a shy man. What could it hurt to inquire?

In the office, he introduced himself to a man named Bert. Little did my dad know, but this man was the Director of the Organization. My dad proceeded to introduce himself, tell a brief synopsis of his granddaughter and her needs and the fact that she and her family were moving to Kelowna. He inquired as to whether there were services provided by this organization.
Dad doesn't recall other details of the encounter and it doesn't really matter. What does matter is that my dad asked for this gentleman's card, so that he could let me know about Bethesda. That was it.

Simple as that.
Card received and placed in a spot to keep for when Dad would eventually see me.

Just a simple walk on the street where he lived, noticing a spot, a simple stop, a simple question, and a contact card - from the Director of Bethesda.

Off down the road my Dad went. Enjoying the journey, with a new found piece of paper in his pocket.

Remember yesterday, when I said today was the rest of the story... well, that was a bit inaccurate. It was some of the rest of the story. Tomorrow, is where it gets really good.