What We Can’t Do Ourselves
Nathan, Dad, and I spent this morning at the DMV. Fortunately, we had an appointment (made in early August), so we got out in just under two hours. We only encountered two employee who left me wondering if they took special training in treating adults like fourth graders who haven’t been paying attention in class. The rest were polite and accommodating. I hope they truly were the exceptions to stories I’ve heard and not just new. My fear is that when we return in a few months, so Nate can take his behind-the-wheel driving test, they too will sound like yard duties. That will make me sad. They seem like really nice people.
Even if we’d spent four hours in the DMV and dealt with one rude clerk after another we would be thrilled. Nathan passed his written test and can now start driver’s training.
Seeing his thumbs-up when we stepped from the testing screen to the line for those who passed confirmed once again that living with family was the best move we could have made.
As a single mom, I’ve become efficient at making life work. Adapting has been part of my job description since the day I caught on that I couldn’t see as well as everyone else. I taught both my boys how to ride their bikes. I got my first and last sports-related injury (a possibly-broken finger) while “shooting hoops” with Nathan in May 2015. (I put shooting hoops in quotation marks because I’m not sure if my attempt counted as basketball.)
Driving, on the other hand? That, someone else needed to cover.
Enter, Mom and Dad. They have been drilling Nate from the DMV Handbook for weeks. I gave him some online practice quizzes, but they were the ones who knew what to expect on the test. I think they were getting a kick out of this being their thing, so I let it be. Nate has grown accustomed to waking up, not to the sun shining through his window and birds chirping, but to his grandma sitting on the other twin bed, handbook open, asking, “Before passing a bicyclist, you must…”
I have a feeling he’ll miss that tomorrow morning.
As soon as he takes his first behind-the-wheel class, he’ll have the legal go-ahead to drive with Grandpa, Uncle Ian or Brandon, or Aunt Kristy.
Instead of having two parents to teach him this important life skill, he has a whole tribe.
What a sweet reminder that God provides for what we can’t do ourselves. We just need to be willing to accept the help.
Whether you are a single mom, living with limitations, or neither, you’ve probably had moments when your kids had a need that was beyond you. In those moments, it might have been tempting to give into the idea that you were failing them, or that they’d reach adulthood lacking a vital skill and end up working in a field that stripped them of their ability to smile at anyone with a stack of paperwork in their hands. Then, hopefully, God sent someone to do what you couldn’t and you knew your child would be okay.
When has He done this for you? I’d love to hear your story.
[bctt tweet=”God provides for what we can’t do ourselves. We just need to be willing to accept the help.” username=”JHanscomeWriter”]
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