Some time ago, I faced a test that shook me deeply.
My 13-year-old son had gone on a school trip to a park in Yerushalayim. At midnight, he called to say he was waiting at the bus stop with his Rebbe and classmates. It was late, but he was with his group, so I wasn’t concerned yet.

But as the hours passed, something felt wrong.
By 2 AM, he still hadn’t come home.
We called the Rebbe — and he told us that everyone else was already home.

That’s when the fear really set in.

We called the automated bus information line — the system that tells you what buses are running and when — and it said that there were no more buses running that night.

We hadn’t heard from our son since midnight.
We had no idea where he was. We couldn’t reach him.
The police were called.

We even had someone in Yerushalayim go to the exact bus stop where he had last been seen — and they didn’t find him there. That made us even more anxious. It felt like he had vanished.

I went into my room, picked up my Tehillim, and began to daven.
I repeated one pasuk over and over again, pouring my heart out to Hashem.

We had recently married off our daughter, and throughout the entire wedding process, I had seen Hashem’s kindness and guidance again and again.
So now, in that dark and uncertain moment, I said aloud:

“Hashem, I know You are my shelter — now I know You are also my fortress.”
“Even if there are no buses — You can still bring my son home safely.”

I had no idea how it would happen — but I believed with full heart that it could.

And then — at 3:00 AM, my son walked through the door.

He had, in fact, been on the same crowded public bus as the rest of his class. He was one of the last to board, and the police were called because the bus was overpacked. They told several passengers to get off — and my son was one of them.

He found himself separated and alone.
Not knowing what else to do, he began wandering from bus stop to bus stop, trying to find his way home.
He didn’t call us because he thought we were asleep.

But here’s the amazing part:

That night — and only because it was a weekend — there was a special night bus line running that wasn’t listed publicly.
Even the automated system we called didn’t mention it.
But that was the bus he found — and that’s what brought him home.

This story could have gone in so many directions.
But in that moment of fear and helplessness, hope in Hashem was all I had — and it was all I needed.

I saw clearly:

Bitachon isn’t about figuring out how Hashem will save.
It’s about knowing that He can, and that He already has a way, even when no one else sees it.

Even when the schedule says there are no buses left,
Hashem can send a hidden one — just for you.

He is our shelter in times of peace,
And our fortress when everything feels uncertain.