I visited Benjamin a week ago. Followers of the blog may recall that he was admitted to a neurorecovery facility in Tulsa, OK at the beginning of the summer. Unexpected provision allowed Ben a new chance at life and Jim and I were grateful for the opportunity. The facility has been a blessing with a blend of mental health and brain injury behavioral support, tailor made for Ben's needs. Ben's psychiatrist is a committed Christian who is prayerfully walking medical decisions. Ben is on new medications. I continue to hope these medicatons help mental clarity, memory and decision making. There has been progress over the summer, but it has been painstakingly slow. The discharge plan that was in place for Ben's next step was not going to work. Jim and I were faced once again with a dead end. I felt compelled to travel to Tulsa to tackle these issues head on and scheduled a meeting with Ben's multiple caregivers face to face. My old friends, hopelessness and dread, were present in full force. How many times have I been down this road? Almost too many to count. I prayed for answers and peace. For days leading up to the meeting, I felt God's reassurance, but all my human mind could see was the dead end.

I had been reading 2 Corinthians in my quiet time. Paul talks abut deliverance from suffering. In 2 Corinthians 1:8c he says, "...that we were burdened excessively beyond our strengths that we despaired even of life." The MacArthur Study Bible says the Greek word for despair is "no passage, the total absence of an exit." I know Paul's suffering was extremely severe, beyond what our family is going through, but on the day of Ben's meeting, I felt despair, the place of no passage with the total absence of an exit....again. 

Seven minutes before my meeting in Tulsa, I received a  phone call that placed the answers to Ben's discharge in my hands. I learned about a community based home in Colorado run by a man who has a heart for those severely affected by brain injury or mental illness. A behavioral therapy program nearby works with those in his care. Our advocate, Teddi, knows him and offered her support. Instead of despair, I walked into the meeting with hope and a plan. A therapist from Touchstone Neurorecovery Center was sitting in the room with the others. He cared for Ben 4 years ago in Texas and was now on staff in Tulsa. He knows my son and listed new community based experiences to be included in Ben's therapy as he heads toward discharge. The meeting was full of peace and planning. 

At the airport waiting for a flight to Houston, I received a call from the director of Ben's new future home. He was caring and gracious. He made clear that his program was ready to step into the role of helping us care for Ben. I sat in the airport lounge with tears streaming. It will be good.