One Sunday when Baxter and I were young, we were getting ready for church. Our children were preschoolers. Stephie was about two so Rob would have been about four and a half. I’d gotten the children ready so I asked them to play in the den while I finished getting ready.

I couldn’t have been out of the room more than a few minutes when I remembered something I’d left in the kitchen. When I walked through the den, only Rob was there. I asked where Stephie was and he didn’t know.

I searched the house thoroughly, calling her nonstop. Finally, I ran back to the bedroom calling Baxter as I went. Help! Help! Stephie is gone! We raced back through the house calling her as we went. Maybe she was hiding or playing a game with us…still no Stephie. I’m beginning to panic.

On my next pass through the kitchen, I happened to glance out the bay window. There she was. Sitting in the sandbox Baxter had recently built for them. She had on her new yellow dress I had smocked so carefully…sewed with love. Sand is poured on the dress…on her head. But we had found her. I went out and picked her up. Turned her upside down. Shook all the sand out of her hair and off her dress. We got in the car and went to church.

Huge overwhelming relief.

Stephanie was little. We didn’t know she could even reach the doorknob. But she could and she did. She escaped.

Needless to say, the very next day Baxter purchased slide locks and installed them near the top of the doors so she couldn’t get away again.

I think of that day and feel gratitude that there was no real tragedy. We were spared. But so many parents aren’t.

Our Heavenly Father must experience that same grief we did that Sunday morning as He watches His children “escape” from the safety He provides. His Word with its instruction and love. His Presence in their lives. Leaving the “home” we have in Him.

When I think back on that morning, I pray I never do that again to Abba God’s heart. He is so patient, kind, forgiving, and filled with love for us…my prayer is to remember Whose I am and where I should dwell.