I can’t seem to remember much about my childhood. For some reason, none of my memories go back farther than when I was six. Anything before that is just a blur, as if my memory had been erased by some great technological device.

My mom doesn’t seem to have pictures of me prior to my sixth year either. Some may think this a bit strange, but my mother always explained that after my father left her, right after I was born, she didn’t have the means to even maintain a barely-furnished apartment, let alone have pictures taken. In fact we had to move often, sometimes even in the middle of a school year, as jobs always seemed to be more readily available in other cities. I never was able to make close friends because as soon as I would befriend someone nice, my mom would always find a better job in some far-away, exotic city. None of these towns were ever quaint however, and we always ended up in some kind of apartment with a one-in-a-million view of a concrete back yard.

I once fell heads-over-heels in love with a girl in my class. Was she ever cute, just like the Barbie dolls I saw in Sears catalogues. Her name was Suzie and she had a special smile that would reduce anyone’s heart to mush. She was a flamboyant blond, reflecting the beauty of the sun. Her eyes were a deep ocean blue, like the waters I had read about surrounding tropical islands. Her voice was clear. Jubilant. Invigorating. The only problem was that we both had the same problem! We were both painfully shy! As a result, we carried out our relationship by admiring each other from a distance.

My mom made fun of me when she found out about Suzie, so I made sure to never mention her name at home again. Then one day, fate put Suzie and I in an awkward situation. We were on a school trip, and I was the last to board. When the only empty seat on the bus was next to Suzie, I had no choice but to take it. At first we were as silent as two mutes, but it didn’t take us long to become engaged in a lively conversation. I came back home radiant, bubbling about my day. I had finally found a close friend!

My mom never said anything about it, but strangely enough, we moved away a week later. Once again, my dreams of having a friend were blown to pieces.

Then one day I found myself facing an even bigger challenge. While waiting for my mom at the grocery store, I noticed a familiar face on a milk carton. Intrigued, I cautiously picked it up and studied it. Imagine my surprise when I realized I was staring directly at my own face! Could this be a hoax? Maybe some kind of cruel practical joke? How could it be? There were no mirrors attached to the milk carton box!

A generous reward was being offered for anyone who could provide information about my whereabouts. The picture had been computer generated, taking into account the years that had passed since my abduction, which had supposedly happened when I was five! Abduction? Had I read that right? Had I really been abducted? Was it possible? I mean, my mom was my mom, right? Or . . . Was she? Should I call the number on the milk carton and find out? What should I do? I didn’t want to bring any trouble to my mom, but what if I have loving parents who are anxiously looking for me? Oh, what should I do?

Does this sound familiar to any of you? It should, because each one of you has been abducted from your real Father!

“Me? How?”

“The thief (Satan) comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10 NIV)

Your real Dad is anxiously waiting for your hopeful return to your real family. Don’t hesitate. Come home and experience His love, His kingdom, His inner peace and His pure freedom.

“You are all sons of the light and sons of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.” (1 Thess 5:5 NIV)

Rob Chaffart