Out of nowhere, the tide suddenly turned. Of all people, Mike—the hesitant one, the master worrier—took matters into his own hands. After vocational rehab dropped the ball and dismissed his suggestion to contact higher education institutions, Mike refused to watch Matt be pushed into job searching without proper mentorship. Sending him into the workforce unprepared felt like throwing him into a lion's den, destined for failure. That frustration became the spark Mike needed to bypass the agency entirely and reach out directly to the University at Buffalo for support.

Matt, Mike, and I were alumni; the university was home turf. Thankfully, our alumni representative offered to champion our request, asking the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences to come alongside our son, which sparked a chain of deeply encouraging conversations. Remarkably, professors remembered teaching Matt seventeen years earlier and still held fond memories of him.

Spurred on by the warm response, Matt took ownership of the process. In a stunning departure from his usual claim that he was "ninety-five percent ready" for employment, he wrote a candid letter outlining his situation and admitting that he would need guidance before returning to the classroom. He backed up his request by emailing a portfolio of his work—including a list of the last three courses he had taught at Lafayette College, a log of thirty-five YouTube lecture videos he had created, and an invitation to discuss how UB might support his ongoing recovery.

They scheduled a Zoom meeting. And then—with a snap of the fingers—the unbelievable happened: the university said yes!

In Sunday worship, I described this amazing opportunity to our many faithful prayer warriors this way: “Imagine God invites Matt to join Him on the stage of life, and asks him, ‘How can I help you?’ To which Matt responds, ‘I want a job to be a college professor once more.’ Broadcasting to heaven and earth, God exclaims, ‘Is there anyone out there willing to lift up this young man?’ To everyone’s amazement, 280 miles away, the University at Buffalo raises its collective hands and says, ‘We can.’ Not one, not two, or three, but four individuals in the Engineering department stepped forward and motioned Matt to join them, with more in the wings eager to provide backup.”

Upon hearing the news, Mike instantly blanched. The master worrier frantically began backpedaling on his own brainchild, wishing that he could kick the whole idea down the road. Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated such an immediate, welcoming invitation—and in less than five weeks!

Beneath his exterior, Mike had long wrestled with a network of self-doubt and insecurity that could immobilize him. It was heartbreaking to see my strong husband handcuffed by fear. Once, as I was leaving for a brief vacation in the Islands, he implored me with raw vulnerability: “Please, make sure you come back. I can’t provide the ongoing care Matt needs to recover.”

Recognizing his limits, Mike began seeing an Employee Assistance Program (EAP) counselor every other week. In those early sessions, he learned breathing exercises to ease the immediate tension about Matt’s future and techniques for talking things through before the oppressive squeeze of anxiety took hold. At his counselor’s advice, he withdrew from contentious moments to protect his health. And so, the daily burden fell squarely back on my shoulders. I was exhausted from doing it all. After a brief pity party, I resolved to pick myself up, give the situation my all, and anchor myself in the joy of Matt’s ongoing progress.

Seamlessly, the baton was placed securely in my hand; I gripped it tightly and took charge. What followed was a whirlwind of frantic preparation: twelve-hour days hunting for accessible units near bus routes, overnight trips to view properties, and competing with the influx of students for the few remaining rentals. We began sorting through years of accumulated possessions split between a jam-packed storage unit and our home, distilling a house’s worth of belongings down to the bare essentials for apartment living. It was a monumental undertaking, with Matt as my trusty sidekick through it all.

Grace arrived unexpectedly. Late in July, on three separate occasions in one week, Mike candidly expressed how deeply he appreciated my willingness to support our family during his recovery, while maintaining a positive attitude, a smile, and an underlying joy. Recognizing the immense weight I was carrying, he even asked me to teach him how to balance the checkbooks so he could take that ongoing responsibility off my plate.

Unwilling to be overshadowed by the chaos—like the hype before a big game—the buzz of anticipation claimed its moment to shine. Honoring the magnitude of this opportunity, we paused to reflect and imagine the many possibilities that hover just over the horizon.

Yet, as the swirl of packing boxes and administrative arrangements fell silent late at night, I wondered.

When you let go of a paper boat on the lake of life, do you trust it will reach its destination, or do you worry that it will drift off course, take on water, or worse, sink? Or perhaps, a little bit of both.

Only time will tell.

© 2026, Sarah Watkins