joy in long distance praying and teaching

My daughters called at 3 a.m. our time from the bus station in Kabale, Uganda. They had got off the bus in fear, trying to decide if it was their own fear or a warning. They were waiting for the next bus back to Mbarara. It was their second time doing a three hour journey on public transport, interesting but usually more dangerous than going in the vehicles of missionaries and other foreign workers. My husband and I called them back on Skype, and shared from the psalms about God's protection, power and sovereignty. Then we each prayed. I prayed for them to distinguish God's voice of warning from their own fears. My husband spoke and prayed even more forcefully to this, carrying deep within himself the memory of a time when he had been warned not to do something dangerous with his sailing crew of young boys. His sense had been that it would be more dangerous not to do it, and went ahead in the face of great clamour and condemnation from a number of those present. His judgment proved to be correct, and all was well in the end. In that case, he saw the warning as being Satan's counterfeit of God's voice. He didn't share all that with the girls on the long distance phone. I of course just prayed hard and was immensely relieved to get a call when they arrived safely a few hours later, especially since I had known that their second choice of transport turned out to be a smaller matatu rather than a big bus!! Since the big buses are called flying coffins I guess it didn't really matter that we might consider the smaller ones more dangerous!!!You can imagine how glad I will be to have them back here in two weeks!!! But there was great joy that I could share their moments of fear and trial, could encourage them with wise words, could share it with my husband, was not away at the cottage when they called, which I had planned to be, could share it by email with an early rising friend who prayed faithfully, and that they could feel supported and connected.