An hour after her encounter with the outspoken stranger, Chelsea still hadn’t been able to shake off the old woman’s words. What did it all mean? Pieces and fragments of Grandma Lucy’s prayer floated chaotically through her brain.
I believe that you will walk with her through whatever trials she might have to face, and that you will use these storms in her life to draw her closer to you. In a way, Chelsea knew that these words were meant to somehow encourage and inspire her, but they sounded more ominous than anything else. Was this eccentric old lady seriously wishing bad things to happen in Chelsea’s life just so she could get right with the Lord again?
What kind of sense did that make?
Teach her that without you, she can do absolutely nothing. Chelsea thought about her list of accomplishments, what Clark called her ta-da list. Well, that was something, wasn’t it? In addition to feeling guilty for not appreciating her life more than she did, was Chelsea supposed to do penance because she hadn’t acknowledged God enough for all that she’d achieved?
Teach her that you are the way and the truth and the life, and that it is such a wonderous and glorious honor to be able to worship you as our Lord and Savior. Never had a prayer sounded so preachy to Chelsea’s ears. Never had she felt so condemned, so unworthy.
Clark would tell her she was giving this stranger too much authority. Nobody could make Chelsea feel sad or glad or guilty but herself. This stranger had no bearing on Chelsea’s life. Her words shouldn’t matter.
And yet somehow they did.
Such a wonderous and glorious honor to be able to worship you as our Lord and Savior … That last part of Grandma Lucy’s prayer stuck out the most. When had Chelsea ever thought of worshiping God as a privilege or honor? Church was something she attended to keep her mom placated. God and the Bible were things Chelsea talked about with her best friend because faith was important to Brie, just like journalism and politics were important to Chelsea.
Such a wonderous and glorious honor … Was it possible that this was the thing that had been missing from Chelsea’s life? Was that why she’d felt so dissatisfied for so long?
She tried to imagine what Clark would tell her if he were sitting next to her, if they could talk about this bizarre encounter with a stranger on the plane.
“She didn’t even ask if I wanted her to pray for me,” Chelsea would whine.
“And how did that make you feel?” he would prompt.
How did it make her feel? She knew how it should make her feel.
That part was easy.
It should make her feel completely annoyed. Grandma Lucy didn’t even know if Chelsea was a Christian. What if she was a Muslim or a Jew and found Grandma Lucy’s prayer to Jesus totally offensive?
What if Chelsea was just an introverted and somewhat shy young woman who didn’t appreciate having that much attention drawn to herself? Who wanted a stranger prying into her personal life like that?
Chelsea should be annoyed. Put off. It’d be well within her rights to complain to the flight attendant, force them to tell Grandma Lucy not to bother her anymore. Maybe she’d even write a blog post about her experience. Something that could serve as a warning to other religious fanatics to be careful not to shove their beliefs down people’s throats on an airplane, where it was literally impossible to get up and leave to end an awkward conversation.
But Chelsea didn’t feel annoyed. She didn’t feel put off.
Something had happened to her during the old woman’s prayer, something that made her wish for a quiet place to sit and think. Think and maybe cry.
There was no mistaking that Grandma Lucy had been out of place. You can’t just walk up to a stranger and ignore all semblance of personal space and privacy. That’s not how life works. Not how a civilized society works.
And yet …
Lord, I believe that you’ve anointed this young woman. Anointed. It was a word Chelsea had heard. A word she could define. But what was this strange old woman trying to say to her? Chelsea was anointed … What did that even mean?
I believe you have unbelievable plans for her, plans to prosper her and not to harm her. One of Chelsea’s biggest frustrations with herself was that she had no spark of joy when she thought about the future. Sure, she planned on advancing in her career. She planned on covering bigger, more impressive stories. More bylines. Better job offers. Bigger benefit packages.
But what for?
Plans to prosper her and not to harm her … Chelsea tried to imagine the future that this old woman was envisioning. Was it possible that Chelsea’s destiny included more than growing a name for herself, working her fingers raw at her laptop, and giving herself eyestrain and migraine headaches from staring at her screen for ten hours a day?
Of course there was something more to life. Isn’t that why Chelsea had hired Clark in the first place? It wasn’t like she wasn’t trying to better herself, improve her outlook. Carve out that glorious future Grandma Lucy seemed to believe was in store for her.
And yet here she was, still filling out the same workbook pages, still asking herself the same questions. Had she and Clark made any real progress at all since they’d met?
Teach her to rely on you, Lord … Guide her in every step she takes. The way Grandma Lucy talked about it, you would think that Chelsea could jump online and schedule an appointment with the Almighty himself just like she did when she needed to talk to her life coach. Wouldn’t that make things simpler? Not to mention the fact that she wouldn’t have to pay God for his time.
But life didn’t work like that. God gave people the Bible. He gave people consciences. He gave people good teachers. And the rest was up to them to figure out, right?
Or maybe there was something more to it. Chelsea didn’t know exactly what the Lord was trying to tell her right now, but she desperately wanted to find out.