I spent the next hour or so reading about the terror she felt when she saw the hole in my face. The guilt my dad felt over not having seen the situation and stopping it in time. The miracle after miracle that brought family and doctors into the right situation so that everything worked out okay. But mostly, I read about the love—all the love that my family had for me, and that God had for me. He was there for me. He was aware of the pain, the timing, the fear, and He provided miracles.