“Mom, you know how God really cares about us?” my 6-year-old son said, choking back tears.

We were driving home from church, just me and the three kids, with all three of them stuffed close together in the backseat of my husband’s car. My husband is in China, and the minivan mysteriously won’t start. So, the kids had to stretch and bend to get the seat belts buckled around all three car seats smooshed together in the back of the car.

Like me, my oldest son lets his emotions build up until one little thing can open the floodgates. Moments earlier, he had found himself desperately “lost” at church because I had walked down the hallway to get his sister a cookie and he hadn’t noticed.

“God really cares about me mom because when I was lost, he sent that man to find me and lead me back to you.”

It’s true, buddy. I feel the same way.

During the last year, we made the tough decision to leave our mega-church about three suburbs away to find a local community of believers. We KNEW this was what we were supposed to do. But this weekend it became real life.

God cares about me enough that he sent three different people to my house to try to start my van. I got to know three families from my church who live less than a mile away.

And he told many others to call just to make sure we were OK when word went out that my trusty form of transportation was sitting idly in the driveway.

He cared enough to convince a woman in my neighborhood to send her son to the same private school my son attends even though it’s a 20-minute drive. Now, I have a carpooling buddy, too!

And he even gave me a friend with a traveling husband to go bowling with on a Friday night.

God really does care about us, buddy. It’s true.

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