Finding Ben

Last night I experienced something I never want to go through again. I was a peripheral bystander, but it was horrible enough.

I spent a lovely, quiet evening at home with my husband. We ate dinner together. He studied. I crocheted. I listened as he recounted facts he was studying. We took a break and watched an episode of Doctor Who. We chatted some more.

I picked up my Kindle -- I don't even know why now -- and it began streaming an Amber Alert message from my weather app. I clicked on it as it was local. I sat in horror as I read the information. A little boy from Spring Hill was missing. I have friends in Spring Hill. As I read the description my heart began to race. I read the name and I couldn't process what I was reading. I think I kept saying, "Oh God no." Alan asked what was wrong and I showed him the message, hoping he would tell me I was wrong. He didn't. 

The missing boy was our dear friends 11 year old son. He'd ridden his bike from home about 2:30 yesterday afternoon and not returned home. His bike was found abandoned around 5:30 in a neighboring area. The police and FBI were called in and the Amber Alert was posted.

Everything became a blur at that point. I rushed to my computer and saw that the information was all over Facebook. His picture and information were spreading like wildfire. I joined in the "sharing" hoping that would help in some small way. My husband and I prayed. We called our son at college to tell him, not wanting him to find out via Facebook. I sent messages and prayed. I reminded myself to trust in God.

But I kept thinking of Susan, his mother and my friend. How could she stand this? I kept thinking of Ben and what might be happening to him. Survivor's guilt I guess. Or maybe just first hand knowledge of how bad it could be. 

When our daughter came in, we met her at the door with the news. My husband wanted to let her sleep without the knowledge, but I knew there was no way she wouldn't check Facebook, and I couldn't have her find out that way.

We prepared for bed. I kept thinking all I can do is pray. We watched the news. Huge search parties were out looking for him, but nothing had been found so far. I went to brush my teeth while my husband lay in bed watching the news, hoping and praying for more information.

And then I heard it. Applause coming from the TV. I ran to the bedroom. The search had been called off and the searchers informed that he had been found in the woods. He was taken by an ambulance to the hospital. But he was found. Alive.

And I cried like a baby. Like it had been my baby that was lost. I kept thinking of the parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep. And maybe I finally understood them on a deeper level. It didn't matter what had happened. It didn't matter if Ben had just wandered off thoughtlessly or if he'd been grabbed. All that mattered was he was found. I knew prayers had been answered and I praised God because I knew it was by His hand.

I know this morning that Ben is safe at home. I know that his parents love him and will guide him regardless of the circumstances. And I know that my God is amazing, and that He loves me me and will guide me whatever the circumstances.

Praise God!

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