Lost & Found..

It took me awhile to be able to write this.

And not just because we have been so busy, which we have, but because I sort of had to process all of the events of that day.

A couple of weeks ago four of our girls, Brianna, Brandie, Rhonda, and Erin were baptized at our church, Bayou City Fellowship. 

It was a beautiful day. 

The girls all dressed up and were so happy to be making this decision to make a public statement about what each of them had done privately in their hearts in the last few weeks.

Their family and some friends were able to come and we were happy to see that our cottage 11 boys, led by Brandie's little brother, Alton, were all able to come as well. Bug was so happy to see them! 

When we arrived the early service was still going on so we all gathered outside for introductions, pictures and hugs. This pic of Bug and our C11 boys should be one of my new faves but instead every time I have scrolled past it on my phone in the last few weeks I have shuttered, for just after this photo was snapped near disaster struck and my mommy heart was greatly tested. 

The pic was taken, the boys put Bug down and he was standing beside the three youngest boys talking and laughing with them. Cliff was talking to Blake and Austin, Bug was holding hands with one of the boys and I turned to speak to one of the mother's who had come for her daughter's baptism. Cliff interrupted me and said, "Where is Bug?" 

I replied that he was standing with the little boys but when I turned, he was no longer there and we both began to look around.

Now this kind of thing has happened before. We both think that the other person has an eye on our quick and strong willed toddler and in an instant he is off, just out of our sight. I think that is a common thing with most toddlers. But usually a couple of quick glances around and we spot him, hiding behind a chair, ducked down under a bush, or some other little spot just out of our reach where he can still see  us, but just far enough away for temporary panic for mom and dad.

But on this day it was different.

A couple of quick glances around didn't cut it. He was nowhere to be seen.

Everyone with us began looking for him. Some thirty or so people fanned out and about five minutes passed without anyone laying eyes on him. With each passing second that felt literally like an eternity pulsating in my ears as I could feel heart beating faster and faster true panic began to set in. We were looking everywhere. We looked behind trees, under benches, around corners, in the lobby, just inside the sanctuary, surely no one would let a toddler into the service alone. There were ushers at both doors passing out bulletins, could he really get past them undetected? I glanced into the sanctuary and did not see him anywhere. People were all around, surely someone would see this little guy walking around alone. And the thought of sheer terror as that thought sunk in, someone may have seen him walking around alone, taken advantage of that situation, and ... i couldn't even go there in my mind. We searched the bathrooms, I didn't even think he would have been able to get those heavy doors open. Back outside could it really have been almost ten minutes of searching? And then I turned to see the massive parking lot behind me. Some of the older boys were searching in between the cars and visions I don't even want to put into words came in to my head. I could hear the voices of mothers I have heard on television, stricken with grief and saying, "I only turned my back for a minute." I had reached my breaking point. 

I fell to the ground a ball of emotions. Fear and guilt and grief. The tears overcame me. Thankfully one of the girl's mentors who had come to watch her be baptized was there and she caught me."You aren't going to find him if you stop looking", she told me. And she was right. I stood up, turned around and there he was. One of the girls was walking out of the church with him saying that she found him at the very front of the sanctuary staring up at the praise band and the man playing the guitar. 

Of course you know the scene that played out. Tears and kisses and scolding and more tears and hugs from his daddy and me. We actually had to walk over and take just a few minutes to ourselves, just the three of us for a minute to regroup and calm back down. 

I was so relieved but also a little embarrassed. Here I am this mother who is here with all these kids who I am supposed to watch and guard and protect, and here are some of their parents and friends gathered around us, and I lose my own son. 

But I barely had time to even think about it before it was time to all go inside and begin the task of getting the girls ready to be baptized. 

They did great. They were all very mature and so sweet. Rhonda asked to stand beside each of the younger girls as they were baptized as a symbol that she wants to be there for them as an older sister in Christ and in our cottage. We took pics. We cheered. And we wept some more that day. 

After the baptism was over Cliff took Bug to the van and waited on the service to be over. I think it felt safer to him for Bug to be there with just him. 

I was so proud of all of our girls, but at the same time I couldn't shake the reality of what had happened earlier. I have to admit I was just sort of praying for the morning to be over so that we could all get home, safe and sound.

When we were finally all back in the van and driving toward the ranch it hit me.

The symbolism of what I had experienced in those brief few hours was so great I can still hardly put it into words. 

Lost and Found. 

I truly can't fathom it, Lord. 

Later that day as I recounted the events to my sister and she said it reminded her of the story of Jesus at the temple as a boy. I had to admit that thought had crossed my mind, too. A part of me knew that he would be where the music and the people praising God were at the front of the church. "Go sing songs." Isn't that what he always says as we pull into church. He just couldn't understand why were standing around outside waiting when there were people singing songs inside. (Mommy just couldn't imagine how anyone would just let a toddler walk into church alone! But that's another story.)

How did Mary stand it? What was it, days, that they searched for her little Jesus that time? 

And then to lose him again as an adult on the cross.

I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for the Father God to watch Him. Right where He knew He should be, gaining the salvation of the whole world, but losing Him all the same. 

The events of that day, the sheer panic, the feelings of dread and loss, the hugs and kisses and tears of a reunion and then the symbolism of ultimate lost and found played out in 

the water passing over my four girls. 

The death. The burial. The resurrection. 

Its all still heavy on this mother's heart. 

In some ways I pray that it always will be. 

We have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Much more than I could have ever imagined a year ago as I dreamed of this life, praying that it could be so.

But I am most thankful for the gift of what the Father allowed to be lost, so that all of us might find what love truly is.