Five years ago driving up Highway 20 while towing a horse trailer, we came upon a toddler standing along the interstate. The child was all alone watching the traffic roar along. A steady line of vehicles zoomed so close to the tot that his hair and clothes blew in the wind of their passing.

“Was that a little boy by the road?” Scott stepped on the breaks to slow down. When you have a trailer full of horses, the last thing you want to do is stop on a dime.

Whipping my head around to look in the rearview mirror, I gasped. “He’s about two-years-old. You have to turn around so we can save him.” Immediately I began to pray, please Lord take care of that child. Don’t let him move. Don’t let a car hit him. Please Lord. Please…

It seemed to take forever to find a place to pull off the highway and turn the truck and trailer around. Vehicles zoomed past going well over the 55 mile an hour speed limit. What is wrong with these people? Don’t they see the child? Why hasn’t anyone stopped in a car to rescue that little boy? Lord, keep him safe until we get back there!

When we finally returned to the spot, there stood the child only three feet away from speeding traffic. My heart was in my throat.

“This is crazy,” said Scott. “He’s a baby!”

“I’ll get him,” I cried, jumping from the truck. Running down the highway, I reached the tiny boy and grabbed his hand. “Hi!” I said breathlessly. “What’s your name?”

“Daniel,” answered the wide-eyed child. His voice was tiny, too.

“Where’s your mommy?”

The toddler turned toward a house at the end of a long driveway. There was a fence around the place but the gate to the drive stood open.

“Is that your house?” Now that I held his hand, relief made me light-headed.

The little boy wouldn’t say anything else. I suspected he was just too young to tell me where he lived. Homes clustered along the interstate in this area. I guessed that the little boy lived at the house he’d turned toward when I asked him about his mother.

“Let’s take you to your mommy.” I smiled reassuringly at him, waved to Scott and our children waiting in the truck, then trekked down the driveway through a well-kept yard with a swing set near the front porch.

When I knocked on the door, a petite woman answered. Her brown eyes went wide when she saw the child at my side. “Daniel!” she cried, looking at him, then back inside the house to where apparently she thought he should be. She called out to other children, then turned back to me.

“I found him beside the highway,” I gently told her.

She appeared about to faint.

“He’s okay,” I reassured her.

I let go of the little boy’s hand, and the horrified mother herded him into the house. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.” I smiled into her distressed eyes hoping she could see that I didn’t think she was a bad mother. I had a handful of children, too. I understood how easy it was to lose an adventuresome little boy.

The woman closed the door, and as I returned to our truck, I prayed for her. And I prayed for little Daniel. Thank you Lord for letting me rescue that child. Please Lord comfort his mother. And Lord, please let that little boy grow up to love and serve You, Jesus.

I didn’t forget Daniel as the years passed. Each time I drove by his house on Highway 20, I prayed for him.

Then, this past summer, my mom began showering me with food from a lady named Monica that Mom met at Bible study. In the midst of these home-cooked goodies showing up, our oldest daughter was heading off to college, while our 13 year old son was being exposed to a whole new world of temptation via facebook and an iPhone from Grandpa.

Our other children had their stuff, too. The baby was colicky. Our younger boys suffered bumps and bruises from all their little boy play. I’d come to the conclusion that I could not keep all our children safe. There were too many of them and only one of me. I felt anxious and overwhelmed trying to protect seven kids.

Around this time, my mom handed me that first bag of homemade rolls from Monica. “Monica has twelve children. After I told her that my daughter had seven children she asked me to bless you with this food.”

As the summer rolled along more homemade meals arrived from this amazing Monica lady. Then one day my mom said, “Monica really wants to meet you.” So mom and I and my two youngest children drove to Monica’s house nearly an hour away.

I was taken aback when we pulled into Daniel’s driveway.

“This is Monica’s house?” I asked in amazement. “Daniel lived here.” I couldn’t believe it. “How long has Monica lived in this home?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said my mom. “You can ask Monica that when you meet her. Who is Daniel?”

In a nutshell, I explained little Daniel beside the highway as Mom and I walked to Monica’s door. But Monica wasn’t home that day.

Still, on that day in Monica’s driveway, God taught me a memorable lesson as this scripture imprinted on my heart: “Do not be afraid… because I have many people in this city” (Acts 18:9-10). Jesus said this to reassure the apostle Paul in Corinth that God was watching over him. And at Monica’s house, Jesus said something equivalent to me: “Do not be afraid. I have many people to guard your children. Just as you protected my servant Monica’s son Daniel on the highway, my people will watch over your children as well.”

I still have not been introduced to Monica. But Mom recently met Daniel, a boy of eight-years-old now. When Mom told Monica that I was the person who whisked Daniel off the highway, Monica was embarrassed. She explained to my mom that older siblings were supposed to have been watching him that day and how terrible it was that we found him on the highway.

Someday soon I hope to tell Monica how the Lord used her and Daniel to increase my faith. Because while we live in a dangerous world, God has many people watching out for our children along their way.