While Frank was thinking about looking Nancy in the eyes and lying, Nancy was lying in the ICU at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas.
She didn’t even have eyes anymore. What Nancy had now was one eye and a gaping wound where the other one had been. She had shunts, bandages, tubes, and wires running every which way down her body.
But she was alive. She had to thank God for that. And her kids were there, in the next room, talking to a doctor who’d put a few scans of Nancy’s brain up on the light board.
The bullet had entered just above Nancy’s left eye, the doctor was saying. But instead of traveling straight through to her brain, it had taken a detour and traveled down her sinus cavity and throat before lodging in her right lung.
The lung had collapsed. The bullet was still there and would remain there for the foreseeable future. She’d be on a ventilator for a couple days, at least. Nancy’s left eye was gone. Her throat was torn. She had extensive nerve damage.
That was the bad news. The good news was there was every indication that Nancy would live.
There was no brain damage—none at all.
Somebody had certainly been watching out for her. That was all Nancy needed to know at the moment—that, and the fact that she was alive. But other thoughts kept crowding her imagination. Time and again, she replayed her encounter with the man in the black baseball hat. Had she angered the man by handing him the takeout bag instead of her purse? Had she somehow brought the disaster upon herself?
Or was it something more than a disaster? Could the shooting have been a test, which Nancy’s faith had allowed her to pass? Nancy didn’t know why she’d been shot. But that didn’t mean the shooting was senseless. Yes, it was a mystery. And Nancy knew mysteries could be full of meaning.
The Lord had spared her, and that was a miracle. After all, it had been His voice that had pulled her through. But what had He spared her for? That was the real mystery that Nancy would have to solve for herself. If she was going to walk away from this shooting, what was the lesson she would take with her?
Nancy wished that she could talk to Frank about it. Her husband, who had grown up in the church and had a gift for divining the good Lord’s intentions.
Nancy’s kids had assured her that Frank was on his way.
The last thing she thought before drifting off into a very deep sleep was “Florida’s not so far away. He’ll be on the first flight. We’ll get through this together—just like we’re meant to.”