Let me tell you about a certain young girl who lived in a lush green land that was both quiet and peaceful. She had been a playful and energetic child like all of the other young girls who lived in that small village, but one day everything changed.

Her mother cooked on an open fire, and usually in the yard when the weather was good. Emma, for that was this girl’s name, used to help her mother build the fire and prepare the food. On this day, because the evening was fine and cool, the family ate their meal outside around the fire. When they had eaten Emma gathered up a few plates to take them away but she tripped and fell. Normally that would be nothing at all, but this time it was different – Emma fell into the fire!

Of course her father pulled her out straight away, but not before she was burned very badly on her face and hands and had lost half her hair. It took a long while for her to recover from the burns and now, even though it didn’t hurt any more, she still had a large scar on her cheek, red hands and a small bald area near the top of her head.

Now you would understand that no young girl wants to have a scar on her face or a bald patch on her head or hands that were all red and blotchy. Emma hated it. Her friends were kind to her but still she felt that people stared at her and she wished and wished and wished she could be normal again. Why was she the only one with scars? Why couldn’t she be the same as everyone else?

Time went on but Emma was not the same girl that she was before. She was much quieter, she hardly ever laughed and she was quick to get angry with everyone. People began to feel that Emma was blaming them for her accident, and they started to avoid her. It didn’t matter what people said, Emma was unhappy and under the surface, really quite angry all the time.

I didn’t mention that Emma had been told all about Jesus and how He had died for her and how He loved her. But these things did not seem real to Emma any more. If He loved her, why did He let her fall in the fire? Why didn’t the scars go away? No, Emma did not see how this could be true, so she stayed unhappy and angry.

Now Emma’s school was in the next village, and Emma had to walk to school each day and then home again along a winding dirt road that was used more by donkeys and goats than by people. But she enjoyed the quiet walk past the fields and the edge of the old forest – it was for her a welcome escape from the eyes and the talk of people in the village.

One day, as she walked to school, she saw, high up in the sky, an eagle riding on the breeze. It was such a master of flight that it seemed to require no effort at all to stay up so high above the trees and the fields. She was surprised she had not seen this majestic bird before.

“It must be a wonderful view from up there,” Emma thought. “I wish I could fly like that.”

The next day, Emma was looking to see if it was there again. It was. “Good morning Eagle!” Emma said, and she thought she saw the eagle dip its wing as if to say “Good morning Emma” back again.

Each day she looked up in the sky for it, and each day it was there, as if it was waiting for her.

“Oh how I wish I could fly up there like you,” she sighed. “You ride the wind high above the world. You don’t care how many holes and mud puddles there are in this old road. You don’t have to walk on it at all. Your home is in the wide blue sky.”

Around this time, a man came to visit Emma’s family. He was someone that her father had known for a long time and he was very happy that he had come. Emma and her mother prepared a very special dinner that night (well, mostly her mother) and Emma sat quietly in a corner. She did not like meeting new people because she felt they stared at her and she thought she knew what they were thinking.

But this man was a little different. He didn’t seem to notice her scars at all and his eyes shone with what seemed like real happiness – a happiness that was almost contagious.

“I saw something wonderful this afternoon,” he said. “I was walking along the road towards your village and I saw up above the trees a gloriously majestic eagle.”

“That’s my eagle!” Emma said suddenly, and everyone turned to her in surprise. She turned red and wished she had kept quiet.

“I think it is,” said the man. “Yes, I think it is.”

Emma’s father scratched his head and looked confused. “What are you both talking about?”

The man smiled at Emma as if they both knew a secret that no-one else knew. “Well,” he said, “There is something in the Bible about eagles. It is a promise from God. You will find it in the writings of the prophet Isaiah at chapter 40.”

He pulled out a small and very well used Bible, opened it and read aloud:

But those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.

“Imagine,” he said, “if we could fly like an eagle. We would soar up in the blue above all the sadness and pain of life down here. We would be free, and what a wonderful view!”

“I wish I could,” Emma spoke again, but she was not talking to anyone there. There was a deep sadness in her voice. The man looked at her and Emma thought she saw tears in his eyes.

“You can, Emma. You can,” he said gently, and began to tell her about his own sadness. He told her how his wife and young daughter had been killed in an accident. “When they died I felt so empty and angry. I didn’t want to do anything or see anyone. But then I read this promise and I turned to the Lord and asked Him why this had happened to me. I told Him everything, about how I felt it wasn’t fair and about how angry I was. I told Him everything. And I waited for Him. Well, He didn’t tell me why they died but He did show me about Jesus’ death and how that proved how much He loved me. I began to see how I was like a rat running around in the dirt but that God was calling me to be like the eagle seeing things from high up where He is. Slowly, slowly, I began to learn to fly.”

He knew Emma understood. She looked at him for a long while without saying anything and then slipped out to a quiet place.
“Dear Lord,” she said, “I am a rat and I am sorry for living in the dirt all the time. Help me to learn to fly up high and to see things the way You see them. Thank you Jesus for loving this rat so much that You even died for me. And thank you for my eagle too.”

The next day the eagle was there again. “Good morning, dear Eagle,” she said. “Thank you for being my teacher. Soon I will be flying too and much higher than even you can!”

And she walked on, with a new song in her heart and a new light in her eyes.

Oh, and she never saw that eagle there again…