When students go missing...

Koriyama, I've heard, has higher radiation levels than Fukushima. In both of these areas, schools are not letting children outside for recess. In Koriyama especially, however, the families seem worried for their children's health and are not letting the kids be out and about very much.

Can you imagine being a 4-year-old boy, kept indoors for over a month while waiting for radiation to clear? The kids aren't so happy about it all.

Partly because of this, we all tramped outside to wish a family farewell from English classes yesterday afternoon (seize any opportunity to get some air!), and the boys decided to run races around the block for a bit. The mothers and I were still chatting, and because the boys would run around the block and come back to us, the moms decided to allow them a few minutes of running free before we all had to come back indoors again.

Long story short, running around the block led to all of us scouring the neighborhood for an hour or so, realizing that the boys had gone missing. As the minutes and streets went by, my thoughts changed from, "They're probably just around this corner..." to "Wow...God, please help us find these boys. Please keep them safe!" to "God, they could be anywhere!! Please guide my steps..."

I should comment that I get lost in this neighborhood OFTEN, and at the time of the last prayer, I didn't really know where I was even...but my eyes spied a small alley, jutting off of the main road I was walking on...that alley led to another, curving around a corner...and to another...and brightly-colored playground equipment came into view. And there were our two small, dark-headed boys, calling to each other and romping together, relishing their freedom and enjoying time with friends.

Whew. Thank you, God.

I called to them and they came running, asking first whether everyone was mad at them and then asking how I had found them. "I prayed...and I found you. God helped me." The answer was the truth. The boys then asked if I'd been to that park before. "Nope, never...now, who knows how to get back to church?" was my answer and question. One boy paused in the street and looked at me thoughtfully. "When you prayed, did God answer right away?"

Yeah. Yeah, God answered pretty quickly when I asked Him to guide my steps.

The boys and I both paused then--all of us, I think, struck by very tangible God-presence and the miracle of answered prayer.

We made the phone call back to the others, letting them know the lost had been found. And then we prayed and talked our way back to the church. There were hugs and scoldings and reassurings and tears...and then we trooped in for a prayer of thanks and evening Bible study.

I'm thankful for a living God, who is not just part of a book or story...but who hears and sees and answers.