You Raise Me Up Read online

  Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.

  God brought this verse to mind a few decades ago when I was going to return to China on a missionary trip. I don’t live there anymore, obviously, but I’ve never forgotten my second home where I grew up. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve returned there since I’ve given my life entirely over to Christ. Maybe six or seven? I go carrying Scripture. They call me a Bible donkey. The idea of it sure makes me laugh. Well I was all set to go on one of my Bible smuggling trips when the bird flu epidemic broke out. Do you remember that?

  My family didn’t want me traveling to Asia. Said it was too dangerous. So I just reminded them of Psalm 91. Told them that God promised to save me from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. If that isn’t a reference to divine protection from bird flu, then my name isn’t Lucy Jean.

  I used to have that entire chapter memorized, all of Psalm 91, I mean. Now, it’s harder to recall the verses all at once, but I trust that God will bring the right ones to mind when I need them most.

  I’m afraid I’ve been rambling so much I forgot what I’d started telling you about in the first place.

  But when I’m rocking in my prayer chair, those are the verses that come to mind when I pray for the young mother who God used to get her family off that plane.

  To safety.

  CHAPTER 4

  I don’t keep up with the news all that much. I figure that if there’s something happening in the world God wants me to pray for, he’s going to let me know about it whether or not I pick up a paper. I guess lots of people have written about me in articles and things like that. Say I saved the whole plane for what I did, standing between the gunman and his victim.

  Well, that’s not how I see it, and if you want to know the full truth, I think most of those stories are blowing things out of proportion. General was holding a gun, about to shoot a young girl barely past her teens. I told him if he wanted to kill someone that badly, it may as well be me. I’ve already explained to you before my philosophy on death. If it’s a bang from a bullet and then I’m in heaven, don’t you think that sounds more bearable than languishing for years in a nursing home?

  Now, if I were younger, if I still had kids to look after for example, we wouldn’t be having this discussion at all. But the death of an old lady who’s already raised her kids and grandkids and has lived to see multiple great-grands is far less distressing than the death of a young girl who’s not even lived a quarter of her life yet. Even an evolutionist who doesn’t believe an ounce of Scripture would agree with me on that one.

  The young woman I allegedly saved is named Willow. I know that because I was chatting for a while with her roommate on the plane. Kennedy and Willow. Two college girls traveling home to visit Alaska.

  They weren’t what you’d expect at first in best friends. Kennedy was quiet and studious. We got to talking, and I learned that she grew up on the mission field in China as well. I don’t believe in coincidences, but this was most certainly a wink from the Almighty if I’ve ever experienced one.

  She was a sweet girl, that Kennedy. A little bit timid, still unaware of the amazing power of the Holy Spirit residing in her. But she’s learning. I get the sense when I pray for her that God has amazing and dramatic plans for Kennedy’s life. The kind of story you’d like to see made into a movie or listen to as one of those old-fashioned radio dramas.

  I also get the sense that Flight 219 wasn’t the last time I’ll be crossing paths with this sweet, young daughter of God. But maybe that’s just the wishful thinking of an old woman like me.

  Well, inasmuch as Kennedy was quiet and sweet and kind, her best friend Willow was quite the opposite. Not in a bad way, mind you. It wasn’t like she was brash or rude. Just louder. More vibrant. The first thing you’d notice about Willow if you met her was her hair. Dyed bright blue. Don’t ask me why someone would take such gorgeous locks and style them that way. I guess that’s just what some young people like to do these days. I’ll never understand it, but that doesn’t mean I should judge.

  Willow was sitting with a young man on the flight, which gave me the chance to get to know Kennedy more. And we talked about it. How Willow isn’t a believer. Not yet, I should say. How Kennedy wanted to share the gospel with her friend but still hadn’t figured out how.

  I sensed a lot of fear in Kennedy. She’s another one that when I pray for her, Psalm 91 comes to mind. If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

  I guess it’s a meaningful verse when you’re talking about a stranger you meet on a hijacked flight.

  For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. I can’t say for sure that I’ve met a real angel before, but I have my suspicions. Like that time when I was a kid and Shanghai was getting bombed and my mother and I were trying to reach home. There was a man who claimed to be a French diplomat who just showed up to our aid, but that’s a story for another day.

  I absolutely believe that angels are surrounding us, protecting us from harm. And yet there are so many believers just like Kennedy who still feel scared of sharing the gospel.

  My prayer for her is that God will fill her up with incredible boldness, that the fear of man will no longer have a hold on her, and that she’ll finally learn how to tap into that amazing power she has as an anointed child of God.

  I’m trying to think if there was anything else to tell you about what happened before the flight got taken over. I’m sure I talked to other passengers, but like I said, I’m afraid I don’t recall details quite as clearly as I used to. There was a young woman in first class I prayed with while I was waiting to use the bathrooms. I would have added her to my prayer list as well, but I’m embarrassed to admit I can’t recall what it was we prayed about or why God prompted me to stop and talk with her in the first place.

  I’m sure at this point you want to hear all about the hijacking itself, but I’m afraid I have bad news for you there, too.

  I slept right through it.

  I’m telling you the gospel truth. After I talked with Kennedy a while and we prayed for her friend Willow’s salvation, I went to use the bathroom and stopped and prayed with someone else (although like I said, I can’t seem to remember who). Then I headed to the back of the plane and took a little nap. When I woke up, a man was waving a gun at Willow, the young woman I’d been praying for just an hour or so earlier.

  So that’s when I stood up and did what any other believer in my situation would do.

  CHAPTER 5

  When the family came over for dinner a few weeks ago, everyone wanted to hear that part of the story.

  What I was feeling. Wasn’t I scared. Did I have any idea the gun wouldn’t go off. How did I ever get to be so brave.

  Really, the answer to all those questions is simple.

  I knew Willow wasn’t saved, which meant that I couldn’t stand by and watch her die. Not while I had the chance to do something to help her.

  The news articles and blog posts tell me I preached for five or ten minutes with the hijacker’s gun pointed at my head. I’m afraid I don’t remember that part either, so I can’t give you many details about what I said.

  But I know people have read about me in the news. At one point there was even speculation that I might be an angel because apparently nobody could find me when the airport security folks were conducting their interviews after we landed. There’s actually a really good reason for that.

  Nobody told me I needed to stick around, and I wasn’t injured at all, so I decided that what I really needed was a good night’s rest. I got off the plane and found myself a quiet gate in the airport, and I napped until the next morning. Then I woke myself up and talked with a sweet young man serving coffee at a little donut shop whose wife is expecting their very first baby, a tiny boy with Down’s syndrome, but that’s a story for another day.

  I don’t like the fact that my actions on Flight 219 have been turned into something spectacular. It wasn’t that at all. But I do know people want to hear my side of the story, and since I can’t remember at all what I said or felt while I was trying to talk the gunman down, let me tell you about my prayers for him since then.

  I don’t believe in praying for the dead. That’s just superstitious mumbo-jumbo. General died in the fire. I know some people are upset he won’t face the American justice system, but I’m certain that God’s justice is quite a bit more powerful and to be feared.

  So I don’t bother praying for General, not because I don’t care about him or the state of his soul when he passed, but because he’s already gone. He had his chance on earth to get right with God. And who knows? Maybe he did right before he drew his last breath. We won’t know about that until we reach heaven.

  But I do pray for General’s kids. They’re so young still. It’s not their fault their father took over an airplane and murdered those innocent people. Unfortunately, I worry that General’s children will blame themselves since after all it was their school General was so upset about.

  I guess if anything good has come from this, it’s that the Detroit school district has closed down Brown Elementary. The students enrolled there are currently being taught in trailers at nearby schools, but plans are underway for a new building, funded mostly by private donations.

  I’m thankful for that much at least. But it’s such a shame the way it all came about, isn’t it?

  So I’ve added General’s children to my daily prayer list. I pray that God would give them maturity beyond their years to see and understand that their father loved them, but he needed help. Like I said, I don’t pay much attention to news reports, but there’ve been quite a bit of rumblings about General’s mental health. Who knows? With the right doctors and a lot of prayer, maybe he could have run for mayor of Detroit or gotten himself elected superintendent himself and brought about change for his children in a much more positive way.

  It’s too late for anything like that to happen now, though.

  And so I pray. Day in, day out. When I can’t sleep, I make my way down to my prayer room. Sit in my rocking chair, talking to God.

  I talk to him about the passengers I met on that flight. The mother in the long skirt who took her children off the plane. The mom traveling with that sweet little boy. That studious college student Kennedy and her blue-haired best friend.

  I pray for them all.

  I pray for God to cover over the fear and the trauma they endured on that flight.

  I pray for the Almighty to wash over them with his peace that surpasses all understanding.

  I read Psalm 91 and I pray the verses over them. Pray that God would protect them, that he would be with them in trouble, that he will deliver them and show them his salvation.

  And I pray for you too, my sweet and faithful reader. I pray that your heart and soul today would be filled with the riches and fulness of God’s grace. I pray that he would open the eyes of your heart so that you might grasp and understand how wide and how long and how high and how deep is his amazing love for you.

  I pray that he will sustain you through sadness and sickness and trials, and that when you reach the last chapter of your life on God’s beautiful earth, you’ll be able to say with confidence along with the Apostle Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

  That is my prayer for you, and that’s what I ask God on your behalf each and every time I talk with him.

  But that’s a story for another day.

  ***

  From Alana: Thanks so much for joining me on this journey.

  The idea for the Turbulent Skies Christian Thriller novellas came to me over three years ago, when I was flying to California to visit my grandparents.

  I was people-watching on the plane (as authors tend to do), trying to come up with backstories for each of the passengers. It was both awe-inspiring and a little overwhelming to realize that God knew every single person on that plane (and their stories) so intimately.

  I tucked the idea for a thriller series set on a hijacked airplane in the back of my head and focused on other novels.

  Grandma Lucy was first introduced in the book Turbulence, which is book 5 in the Kennedy Stern Christian suspense series, my most popular collection of novels to date. This book gives the story of Flight 219 from Kennedy’s perspective as she’s traveling to Alaska with her best friend Willow.

  Grandma Lucy’s character is based in large part on my own grandmother, who was raised as a missionary kid in Shanghai and who returned to China multiple times to smuggle Bibles. My grandmother died the week before I started writing Turbulence. I thought that basing a character on this prayer warrior would be a neat way to commemorate her, and I know if she were still alive, she’d get a kick out of reading about herself in my books.

  I’m so thankful for the legacy of prayer and evangelism and missions my Grandma not only lived but passed down the generations, and I know my life has been irrevocably blessed by all her prayers for me and my family. The world lost a tremendous prayer warrior the day my grandma died, which is one reason why it’s always so special for me whenever I get the chance to write about her in some of my novels.

  Grandma Lucy also plays a large part in the Orchard Grove books. These are different than my typical Christian suspense novels and fall more into the women’s fiction category. In the Orchard Grove series, three young women attend a church service where Grandma Lucy offers the closing prayer. Each one of these women is impacted by her words in a significant yet different way.

  If you haven’t read the Kennedy Stern Christian suspense series yet, where Grandma Lucy is first introduced and where Kennedy and her roommate Willow experience dangerous encounters that test their faith and keep readers turning pages WAY past their bedtime, grab the first three novels in the Kennedy Stern series on sale now.

  Dive into the Kennedy Stern series today! … Or keep reading for a sneak peek from Turbulence, the Kennedy Stern novel where Kennedy and Willow first meet Grandma Lucy on Flight 219.

  Turbulence

  T minus 1 hour 43 minutes

  “Gladys Aylward? What a remarkable woman.”

  Kennedy was startled by the interruption to her reading.

  A white-haired woman with thin-rimmed spectacles and a blouse that might have been ordered from a 1970s Sears catalog smiled at her. “I’m sorry, the restroom up front was occupied, so I came back here and couldn’t help but notice your book. Are you enjoying the story?”

  Kennedy didn’t feel up to chatting, but since the back lavatory was occupied as well, she didn’t think she had much choice. “Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.”

  “They made a movie about her life. Did you know that?”

  Kennedy shook her head.

  “Well, it’s quite an old one. The actress who starred in it — oh, I wish I could remember her name just now, but that’s what happens when your brain gets as old as mine. Anyway, the story goes this woman became a Christian after playing the role. I assume then that you’re a born-again believer?”

  That phrase always struck Kennedy as strange. A born-again believer, as if there were any other kind. “Yeah. I am.” No use getting into a theological debate on an airplane with an eighty-year-old grandmother.

  A flight attendant tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, can I squeeze past you, please?”

  The old lady sat down in the Mennonite mother’s empty spot and glanced at the bathroom. “Looks like I might be here a while.” She smiled warmly. “My name is Lucy Jean, but I insist on being called Grandma Lucy.”

  “I’m Kennedy,” she replied automatically, wondering how long the bathroom occupant would take.

  “Kennedy. What a lovely name. You know, I still wish my parents had come up with something more creative than Lucy Jean. You don’t get much plainer than that.”

  Kennedy was about to protest that it was an attractive name when Grandma Lucy asked, “Are you going to Detroit today?”

  “No, I’m on my way to Seattle and then Anchorage to spend Christmas with my friend’s family.”

  “How lovely. I have a granddaughter in Alaska.”

  “Is that where you’re going?” Kennedy asked.

  “No, I’m getting off in Seattle. Going home to Washington. I was just in Boston to see off my grandson. He’s on his way to …” She stopped herself to finger Kennedy’s necklace from across the aisle. “What in the world is this? It looks New Age.”

  All Kennedy wanted to do was get back to her reading, but she gave her best impression of a smile. “It’s an air purifier. You wear it around your neck, and it filters out germs and dust. My roommate got them for us for the flight.” She nodded toward Willow, who was watching some violent movie on her portable screen.

  Grandma Lucy frowned at the gruesome image. “And your roommate?” she asked. “Is she born-again, too?”

  Kennedy was spared the chore of stammering an awkward reply when the math teacher Willow had been flirting with came up to their row.

  “Bathroom full?” he asked.

  Willow plucked out her earbuds and offered her most winsome grin. “Hey, Ray. I was hoping we’d bump into each other during the flight.”

  Kennedy unbuckled her safety belt. “It looks like there’s a line, so why don’t you take my seat and I’ll come over here.” She stepped across the aisle and sat in the window seat beside Grandma Lucy. Her contacts were getting dry anyway, so now was probably as good a time as any to take a break from reading.

  Grandma Lucy took Kennedy’s hand in hers. Her skin was surprisingly soft for someone with so many wrinkles. “That was sweet of you, dear. Now let me take a look at you.” She stared for several seconds before she gave her hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me. Let me guess. You’re studying to be a missionary, aren’t you?”