“Mommy, can you promise me that no one will ever come in through my window and kidnap me? Can you promise me that no one will ever hurt me?”

What do you say to a five-year old? Why were we even talking about this? My neighbor’s 20 year old son had gone missing after an argument with his mother. She was so worried that she filed a missing person’s report with the police department. We had neighbors, friends and church members praying for his safe return. As I discussed it at church, someone tossed out the notion that this young man had been kidnapped.

That’s what got Lexi thinking. She woke up one night in a panic and was so distraught that she couldn’t verbalize how she was feeling. So I asked her to write out her thoughts, and she wrote down that she had dreamt someone came in through her window and kidnapped her. Frightened, she sought comfort from us, and she asked us to promise that this would never happen and that nothing bad would ever happen.

We could not lie to her, but we couldn’t tell her the truth either. She thinks I work for an organization that helps foster children, but what I don’t tell her is the level of abuse that many of these children have endured to receive help from our organization. I don’t censor material because I don’t think she can handle it. I know she can. She has shown a heightened sensitivity to social issues such as poverty and human injustice, but when she wakes up from a nightmare about being kidnapped, I just want to lie and promise that there are no monsters in her room, that people don’t kidnap children and that no one will ever cause her harm.

But I can’t and I couldn’t that night. My husband and I promised to protect her the best we could and leave the rest to God. The child cannot live in a bubble. We cannot shield her from the ugliness of the world because that would mean shielding her form the best that the world has to offer as well. Our city is never going to make the list of “Best Places to Raise Children” or other “best places to live list.” We choose to live here and with that choice comes exposure to unsafe conditions. Is that irresponsible? We don’t think so. We’re commanded to love others and take care of the “widows and orphans” in the world wherever they are.

I sincerely pray for protection over my family, but that’s not always the plan He has for us. This is what the parent of a soldier just told me when I shared Lexi’s nightmare. She said, “Nhung, you can only do the best you can. That’s it.”

So my best was lying next to Lexi, saying a prayer over her and giving her an extra hug with the assurance that her daddy and I would do our very best all the days of our lives and hers.

How would you have responded to your child(ren) in this situation?