It promised to be another frustrating summer of feeling left out for one of our precious children. For reasons known only to G‑d Himself, this child struggles with sleeping away from home. Until now, there had been day camp workarounds, but at this stage basically all his friends were going to overnight camp.

It occupied not only the summer, but the weeks and months leading up to it. They lived, breathed and discussed it endlessly, and he knew that while it was something he greatly desired, it was a world he just could not enter. He applied, “just in case,” but there was a sense of relief when he was not accepted; now he had an honest excuse for his friends.

Alas, a na’ar nart nor zich alein, “a fool fools only himself.” Those close to him knew these were word games, and while his friends were running and playing at overnight camp, he’d be stuck at day camp with no one he knew well, held back from what really wanted to be doing.

Yet, miracles and perseverance are the two wings that make the unexpected fly.

While we prepared for day camp in the Catskills, where the family was to spend a few weeks, I was quietly working (begging) the overnight camp to make a very rare exception and allow this child to attend as a day-camper. With a blessing from Above and the kindness of the director, head staff, and counselors, it was agreed that we’d try it out on a limited basis.

Dream one had come true. He could now be with his friends and have the camp experience without doing what felt impossible—sleeping away from home. The next couple weeks were perhaps the best of his life. Shuttling him back and forth early in the morning and late at night was worth all the hassle when we saw the joy emanating from our son, in contrast to the dark mood he (and we) had had when entering the summer.

Then things took a turn for the better. Two weeks in, a bed became available in his bunk. In theory, he could now become a proper overnight camper if he could just find the courage. Again, the wise camp director guided us to allow him to finish the first month of camp as a day-camper, really learn the ins and outs of camp, and start to mentally prepare himself for the big move. “The bed he is hoping for will be available in the second month as well,” he reassured us.

Now began the process of psyching himself up to finally conquer the behemoth that had plagued him his whole life. We told him that we would support whichever decision he made and do whatever we could to make the transition as easy as possible, including sending him his familiar foods, and the safety net of going back to the day-camper system if he was unhappy after a week.

He agonized over the decision, and while we encouraged him to give it a try, we validated his fears and struggle and made it clear we wouldn’t judge him or love him any less no matter what he chose. Eventually, he firmly decided he was going to do it. “I am so scared but I have to do this,” is a direct quote.

The day arrived and I dropped him off with hugs and kisses and suitcases of clothing and food, the lump in my throat and knot in my stomach matched only by his. I waved goodbye with the agreement that we would be “going dark” for three days, with no contact except in case of emergency.

Well, miracles do happen! Within a day or two he had acclimated and settled happily into the day-to-day flow of camp. He was ecstatic, living his best life, his lifelong dream having come to fruition. We kept checking in, but he was happy, not asking to come home. He had climbed his mountain successfully and the joy was palpable on all ends.

The end.

Or is it?

In fact, it is the beginning. The beginning of many new vistas of opportunity. Will his life be perfect now? Are his other struggles resolved?

Not by a long shot. But this challenge, he has overcome.

Not by force, as that would have backfired. Nor by lying, cajoling or bribing. Simply by creating space for him to step into his own discomfort and making it safe for him to feel uncomfortable.

That was the magic on the parenting side.

There was, however, another important element to the success of this endeavor,

There is a famous line attributed to the Kotzker Rebbe. “Where is G‑d? Wherever He is allowed in.” What does this mean?

When we play G‑d and think we control outcomes, He says to Himself: “They think they got this. OK, I will let them do it on their own.”

In our case, letting Him in meant being willing to fully surrender the notion that we controlled the outcome of any part of the process. We worked on ourselves to truly be Ok with whatever resulted from our efforts.

If it failed, and he was miserable, and would require herculean efforts to keep him happy, entertained and sane, well, that was something that, after a lot of hard inner work, we were at peace with. That would be what G‑d wanted from him and and from us.

Acceptance actually opens new realities, both physically and spiritually. It allows G‑d in. When we make peace with the outcome in advance of the challenge, whatever the outcome, for there is never really any emergency (more on that in another upcoming article), we create space for the Divine blessing and for His agents to make miracles happen.

So where is G‑d? Wherever He is allowed in.