A family, an entire city, and an anxious world were jubilant over the return of Elizabeth Smart to her family. After being kidnapped nine months ago, she was rescued when alert citizens spotted a suspect in her case and called police. Child-kidnapping cases seldom have the realistic prospect of happy endings.

The morning after her release, CNN's Paula Zahn reported a conversation with Elizabeth's uncle from the evening before. The topic was the Smart family's persistence in seeking the girl. Ms. Zahn voiced her amazement that the family never lost faith, never gave up hope. Then she quoted Elizabeth's uncle as saying that her mom, dad, and five siblings continued to set a place at the table every night ,(over those awful months) for the missing, dearly loved teenager!

The empty chair and place setting made it impossible for the Smarts to ignore her absence. They reminded everyone to pray for her safe return. They served alternately as sad relics and hopeful images. They prodded the people hurting most to keep her story before a wider public. They were symbols of love.

As I heard that report, I thought of God's love for so many of his children who are away from home — taken captive by the enemy of their souls.

What is God's attitude toward us, if we have been in the clutches of addiction to alcohol and drugs, sexual impurity, or gambling? If we have been the victim of someone's evil choice, slander, or abuse? Even if we are experiencing the shame of having been the person who inflicted an outrage on someone?

Here is the answer to our question: If we can think visually, imagine that we are looking in on God's house. The banquet table of the redeemed has been arranged. The Son is seated at his Father's right hand, and the Holy Spirit is all smiles. Abraham and Sarah, King David, Mary, the apostles — saints from across the ages are seated around his table. This is an assembly of the family of God. But something isn't right. The Father is distracted. Someone notices that his eyes are fixed on a chair that is empty. A whisper goes through the room. Now everyone sees it, and every eye reflects a bit of the Father's sadness at the scene. Saints and angels know the Father of Mercy wants all his children home.

If we have been wounded by life, betrayed by someone we trusted, or are angry at God over our fate, let's remember this:
Our place is set and waiting!