Gathered in His Name

My daughters are remarkably pretty. I say this not to boast, but because it is true. Somehow, my genes and Steve's came together to create these beautiful women.

Unfortunately, despite everything we say and do, one of my daughters does not believe, in her heart of hearts, that she is loved. Instead, she is drawn to every flattering guy with smooth moves; she is drawn to the attention like metal filings to a magnet.

She's an adult now, and I can't protect her the way I did when she was young. Heck, even in her early teens, she was really quite beyond our control.

And it is absolutely terrifying.

This week, without telling us, she went with a man more than twice her age to another city, to be a model. Through various connections, I learned that she was at a motel.

Then I read that he had abandoned her at a gas station in this city where she had no money and didn't know her way around.

There was no communication from her for 12 hours.

In 12 hours, a young woman could be trafficked to another country. In 12 hours, a beautiful young woman could be raped, mutilated, and murdered. In 12 hours, a woman with her whole life ahead of her could be sucked into a life of prostitution and drug abuse. In 12 hours her whole life could change.

I thought of all those other mothers whose daughters go missing, who print posters and plaster them on lamp posts, who create Facebook pages for their daughters.

I reached out to my sister and brother-in-law who live in the city where I believed my daughter had gone. They were ready to head out to the motel.

I prayed on my own, silently. I called the police (and got shunted to voicemail because of unusually high call volume).

Then I remembered the power of communal prayer:

"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."

Matthew 18:20

I posted my plea on Facebook, then I went into the family room and asked my son to hold my hand while I prayed for his sister's safety. I cried with him.

Seconds after returning to my laptop, I heard from one of my daughter's friends that she had just received a text message. Seriously, mere seconds.

A few minutes later, I also received a text message.

She was alive. She was not where I wanted her to be, and she had no intention of coming home right away, but she was alive.

I will continue to lift her up in prayer. Out loud, holding hands with whoever will join me.