Fear

If you are a parent, I'm sure you have experienced the fear I felt last night, at least once or twice in your parental career.

Since it was Ryan's birthday and he had T-Ball practice, I wanted to have treats for his team after practice. I left practice about 30 minutes before it was over and took Casey and Emily with me to the store to buy ice cream sandwiches. I was in a hurry to get the treats and get back before practice ended. So the 3 of us rushed into the store, Emily on my hip, Casey trailing behind (as usual). I headed to the freezer aisle, grabbed the treats and said to Casey, "come on, let's go pay for them." I remember looking at him as I walked away from the aisle and made eye contact with him so I knew he saw me walking away and was following me. I looked for self checkout thinking that would be faster, but there was a line so I decided it was quicker to just go to the 15 items or less lane. I stood there holding Emily for a minute and then instinctively looked down at Casey, but he was not there.

Fear. Gripped. Me.

That fear that you can physically feel in the pit of your stomach. My real life friend Mere describes a similar fear here. I left my treats on the conveyer belt at the checkout and headed back toward the freezer aisle while calling his name. "CASEY! CASEY!" While people just watched me frantically calling and searching for my little boy. I just called his name over and over as a scenario of his abduction played out in fast forward in my head. Then I thought I heard the faint cry of "mama" from somewhere towards the front doors of the store. I called his name even louder and then -- there he was. Relief washed over me like a wave. He was just as upset as I was. I set Emily down and hugged him tight, so thankful that he was back in my arms.

I think that this all happened in a matter of minutes, but that's all it takes for a child to go missing, sometimes permanently. I thank the Lord that my sweet boy is safe. Truly, I do.