The Strong Arms at the County Fair

Every parent knows the moment. For David Meyers, it happened at the Boone County Fair on a humid July evening in 2019. His four-year-old daughter, Lily, slipped from his side near the funnel cake stand. One moment her small hand was in his. The next, she had vanished into a river of strangers.

David did not walk. He pushed through the crowd like a man pulling someone from a burning building. He called her name over the noise of the Ferris wheel and the livestock auction and the tinny speakers playing country music. Three minutes felt like three hours. Then he spotted her — standing frozen by the ring toss booth, chin trembling, clutching the stuffed rabbit she had won earlier.

He did not scold her. He swept her up with both arms and pressed her to his chest so tightly she could feel his heartbeat. She was sobbing. He was laughing. She buried her face in his neck, and his voice — the same voice that had been shouting her name moments before — dropped to a whisper. "I've got you, Lily. Daddy's got you." He swayed with her right there in the middle of the midway, rocking her like she was a newborn, humming low and steady until the crying stopped.

That is Zephaniah 3:17. The Almighty is not distant. He is in your midst — mighty to save, yes, but also close enough to hold you, glad enough to laugh over you, and tender enough to quiet every fear with the sound of His love.