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And hey Ronnie, since that angel had a Norwegian accent, then maybe that means that the Vikings will win the Super Bowl with Brett Favre this year! Whoo hoo! That's where I'm bettin' my money!
here is my comment after I allegedly punched the guy. Re-read the post...
"Just kidding about punching the punk. The only emotion in me was thankfulness..."
It seems like when a child gets lost like they are most likely gonna be found by someone and all is gonna be ok. It is rare that they would be snatched. Numeric odds are seriously against that ever happening. But try telling that to a nervous Mom! If anything, the parents and child are just freaked out for awhile until some mall person or policeman or guard returns the child to its rightful owner. Once I found a screamin child at a department store. I comforted him and said lets go find mommy. The child was ok immediately. Mommy was 2 aisles over and just missed him when I walked up. All was good. She held tight after that I bet.
Still....the unknown factor is hell. And all the things we see on TV about disappearances. Yikes! It's absolute torture when it takes hours or if they have to take the child in to the station until the frantic call comes in. Oh man! I can just imagine!
Reminds me of that move "Home Alone". I like the concept of the "hedge of protection" from God. Works for me.
I hate it when a parent blames themselves when something bad truly does happen to a child or a loved one. We can't blame ourselves. I never, ever, ever again want to hear anyone say it was that person's "believing" that caused the negative event. That is a destructive and harmful doctrine. Sometimes life just sucks and things happen to us. Period. We've all seen bad things happen to good people. Don't blame them or thier believing.
Other times we are praying in thankfulness like Kevin did that afternoon.
One time, my wife and I were in D.C. down on The Mall for the 4th of July. We were right next to the Washington Monument mingling with the masses. There were an estimated 300,000 people in town that Independence Day for the celebration. Shannon and I had our first two kids with us, Meagan, then four, and Trevor, then two years old. At one point Shannon and I saw these "punks" with spiked Mohawk haircuts and and their chicks with half shaved heads complete with paper clips and little chains pierced into their faces and lips, etc. We'd never seen anything like 'em before, except maybe in the Mad Max movies (remember those Ronnie?), and we were pretty amazed at what we were seeing. At one point, after a young married couple had their pictures taken with them, the punks began to yell at the young couple and ask them for money because of their supplied "photo op", which of course pissed me off. I started over to the young couple to help them out and get into the faces of those disrespectful punks when Shannon yells; "Kevin! Where's Trevor?!?!" We'd been so distracted by the spectacle of the punks, that we'd let him wander off! And I looked around, and he was GONE! There was nothing but a sea of faces and no Trevor Clay Nye! Shannon, frantic, holding Meagan by the hand started running around looking for two year old Trev, finding him nowhere. Me, thinking all of the worst, began to just calm down, and I asked God to "find him for us..please". Yes, I did the "begging prayer", not the "claim it" prayer. And, I spoke in tongues a bunch and just kept looking. A tortuous full three minutes went by yet we'd not found Trevor. Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there was a nice man holding Trevor. And with a thick Norwegian accent, he asked; "Is this your son"? And I breathed out a heavy; "Yesss". And "thank you sir, thank you so very much. God bless you", as I gathered him up. Then, I yelled out to Shannon, still frantically running around and calling out Trevor's name, and when she turned and saw me, came running with Meagan and I placed Trevor in her arms as she came up to me. We were both pretty shook up, and tears of thankfulness were streaming down our cheeks. We prayed right there on the spot, thanking God for Trevor, and asking Him to forgive us for being so distracted. Yeah, that was a scary one fore shore...
After that, I walked straight up to the biggest punk and smashed his face with a heavy blow from my right. Cut my knuckles on his friggin' paperclip though...
just kidding about punching the punk. The only emotion in me was thankfulness...
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