Little Lambs

Saturday morning dawned far too early.  My worried mind woke me at 5:30 because our neighbor wanted to borrow the truck.  Everyone borrows the truck and we don't care, because it's so beat up that one more dent couldn't make it worse-- well, I guess it could, but it hasn't happened yet.  This particular neighbor is our adopted Grandmaman and reminds me of my own Grandma-- sturdy workhorse with absolutely no patience for waiting around for somebody else to get the job done.  The truck is hard to drive.  I don't drive it unless I have to.  I was worried about her taking it.
At 7:30, we got a phone call from one of Dan's sisters.  That was odd.  I asked her if everything was all right.  It wasn't.  Our 8 year old nephew (from another of Dan's sisters) had gone on a Father's and Sons camping trip up in the mountains around Bear Lake with their home teacher.  He had wandered off and had been missing all night.  The sheriff had been called at 11 p.m. and SAR had been out all night looking for him with helicopters and infrared. 
I cannot imagine what Dan's sister was going through.  I felt helpless, but also felt like everything was going to be okay.  But that's me, clear over here, and it wasn't my child.  I did what I could, which was to pray and try to get a hold of Dan who was at Jamboree Shakedown camp and NOT answering his phone.
When the girls woke up, we had a mini-family home evening.  I told them what had happened and we each said a prayer that he would be safe and that the searchers would be led to him.  We then talked about what to do when you realize that you are lost.  We came up with a mantra:  Stop Pray Stay.  I told them that if they were lost, the first instinct is to start running.  I want them to sit down so that they can't run.  After they are still, they need to pray.  And then they need to stay still.  Still so that they can hear the still small voice and so that they don't get lost any further.  We talked about how that can work even in a city, it doesn't have to be the woods. 
At about 9:40, his sister called back.  He had been found and they were bringing him to the camp!  I got another call at about 11 telling us that he had been checked over and was fine.  They were bringing him home.  He had gone up to a snow field with the older boys and wanted to head back earlier than they did.  He missed something and walked 3-4 miles past the camp.  When it started getting dark, he stopped where he was and tried to keep warm while he slept.  That's as much as we know.
I've always known that we need to teach our kids how to identify the voice of the Spirit in its many forms.  I'm not sure that this was something that was really taught to us as kids.  I could be wrong.  Making up our mantra really made me think.  How will my children know what to listen to and for if they are ever in danger?  I always just assumed that I would be around to identify the Spirit for them.  However, they won't usually need those kinds of promptings from the Spirit if I am around to help protect them.  It's when they are alone, lost, and possibly panicked that they need to know how to tap into the comfort the Spirit affords to settle their hearts and clear their minds to make life saving choices.  They could be lost in the woods, at the mall, or at a bad point in life.  This skill is as necessary to them as learning to cook, do laundry, or balance a check book.  I think we need some better Family Home Evenings. 
P. S.  the truck was dead (a common thing) and so the trip to Home Depot was cancelled.  Whew!