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After church tonight, the pastor’s wife asked us if we could drop a couple of girls off at their home on our way. We agreed, and Stephen went outside to go fasten our back seat back into the van (we had just driven a lawnmower in the back, so he had unfastened the seat and moved it forward. We hadn’t had a chance to fasten it back in yet). I stayed inside and chatted with a few of the ladies while I was waiting for Stephen to come tell me he was ready.
As I was leaving the building, a man I have never seen before came around the corner of the church building carrying my son.
“Does this little guy belong here?”
I was dumbfounded. I stood there for a moment, glued to the ground, absolutely shocked. In that terrible moment, I realized that a stranger was bringing my son back to me, and that I had not even realized he was gone.
There had been several girls playing outside, and I honestly thought that he was with them or that Stephen had him with him.
I was wrong.
Somehow had had managed to slip away to the neighbors, and the neighbor was kind enough to bring him back.
A thousand what-ifs ran through my head. I could barely speak on the way home. My heart literally hurt at the close encounter we had just had.
All I know to say is just how thankful I really am that the man who found him was kind enough to bring him back. Thank you, Lord!