Wednesday, August 03, 2011
"She's Practically Famous"
That's what a young girl said to me after chatting with Lucy at the Science Museum yesterday. We've all been surprised at the nationwide (and even across the pond) reverberation her story has caused.
I asked her this morning what she thought about all the attention.
She takes it just as she has her run-in with the shark. With a quiet acceptance. Very quiet. In fact, both my mom and I noticed in the hospital that she began to almost whisper when she spoke. Maybe this is her way of respecting the incident.
When something like this happens, meaning, something that has only happened in your worst nightmares, it demands respect. Respect for the life you've been allotted, and humility at its delicate balance.
We changed Lucy's bandages yesterday afternoon after her bath. Though it has been two weeks, when I see those stitched seams uncovered on her little leg, I can't help but imagine those misguided jaws. Then a wave of gratitude comes over me that he left everything behind. All her muscles, skin, and tissue were there to piece back together. No broken bone, no severed nerves. It is a miracle.
I've seen Lucy in a different light of late. I wrote an email to my sister this morning describing it. Lucy is being prepared, for what, I don't know. But his is part of her preparation. And on an infinite scale, age means nothing. All the headlines read "6-year-old girl", but to her Heavenly Father she is an eternal being whom he has known from before birth and into her mature years. He knows her better than I. He knew she could bear this and that though her leg and it's very structure was frightfully weakened, she will come out strong. Stronger! God is always good. He is always there. He knows us each.
Even when our scars are made and healed out of the spotlight in the privacy of our seemingly small simple lives, He is there. I have Lucy to thank for the reassurance of this knowledge. Each morning when she wakes, the last of the four rascals to do so, and calls my name to lift her from her bed and join us downstairs for breakfast, I remember how truly big her life is and how many other lives are in our power to touch.