Two weeks ago I had a dream. In this dream I was standing in front of a cradle. My parents were to the side of the cradle smiling. Inside was a baby perfectly dressed in pink lace. The baby's face was somewhat scarred, slightly red but very beautiful.
The baby was my sister Stephanie.
And we cried because we loved her so much.
This is like our Stephanie now. Being slowly brought out of a two-month coma means that she will walk the line of cognizance and sleep. Like a newborn who sporadically slumbers and wakes. Moves and cries. Sleeps and smiles. Gradually she will return to her adulthood without the haze she has now. There is no telling when she will be fully alert for good, or conscious of her situation. We will allow her all the time in the world.
All of her limbs are intact and healing. The skin grafts are taking and the skin on her facial area is said to look remarkable. She can open her eyes, she responds to familiar voices and Jesse says she even laughed at him the other day. (He's not even that funny.) She can breathe on her own and does so on a daily basis. Nothing is alarming to the medical staff. All vital organs are functioning. There is no loss of bodily operations. In no time she will be sitting up on her own and possibly talking in the next week.
The fact that she has made it this far is a testament to how well her body has fought. How positive energy from around the world is felt by one person. How God answers prayers.
Oh He answers.