Chelsea awoke in the middle of the night, her mind tangled with thoughts of the trial …Kerra … Brett. The digital clock on the nightstand read 3:20. For over an hour she fought to clear her head, but to no avail. Finally she turned on the reading light. She sat up in bed and pulled her Bible off the nightstand.
What is it,God?
She opened her Bible to the Psalms, seeking comfort, peace. She read various psalms of praise and of God’s protection over his people. Of his majesty and mercy.
The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
My God,my rock, in whom I take refuge;
My shield and the horn of my salvation,my stronghold.
A half hour later Chelsea still could not relax. She lay the Bible aside and began to pray.
First she prayed for Paul in England, for her sons at camp. Then she began to pray for Kerra. After that she moved on to the judge, the attorneys, the jurors, each by name. At first she prayed silently, then in a whisper. Before long she was speaking aloud. She prayed particularly for Tak Nagakura, who looked at her with hard, cold eyes.And for Hesta and Latonia and Gloria, all of whom treated her with indifference.
Then she began to think of Brett. She could not turn her mind away from him. Chelsea found herself praying for his salvation, his friendship with Kerra.
She prayed, listened for further guidance, prayed some more. Another name began crowding into her thoughts, slowly at first.Milt Waking. She pushed it aside. She was busy praying for Brett and Kerra. Besides, what did Milt Waking do other than air salacious news reports? Chelsea felt not one ounce of sympathy for the man.
She continued to pray for Brett. But the reporter’s name grew stronger in her mind until she could no longer convince herself that this thought had not come from God.
All right, Lord. Her heart resisted even as she obeyed.How should Ipray for him?
For some time she sat, eyes closed, waiting for understanding, asking God for sensitivity on her part to hear him. Twice she tried to move on to pray for someone else, but her spirit would not let her rest.Milt Waking,Milt Waking. In time she sensed a leading, initially vague, then growing clearer.
God had chosen specifically to work through Milt’s actions during the trial.
Could that possibly be right?
Chelsea couldn’t shake the thought.Nor could she help but react. Oh, wonderful, Lord. Selfish, grandiose, non-Christian-if-there-ever-was- one Milt Waking. Couldn’t you have chosen somebody else?
Besides, what can he possibly do?
Chelsea sighed.How she wished she could ignore this. Then she remembered the stories in the Bible about the Israelites’ release from captivity.How, after Daniel prayed,God had chosen the pagan Babylonian king as his special servant to bring about these events. God was sovereign, he was reminding her. He would work through whomever he chose. She was not to question. She was to stay faithful and do her part—which would be key.
Yes, Lord, okay.
For a long time Chelsea prayed for Milt Waking and for those who would come into contact with him as the trial progressed. She prayed that God would work through the man whether he realized it or not. That Milt’s actions, even those that might be wrong or selfish, would be used for God’s glory.
By the time Chelsea felt she could stop praying, the clock read 5:45. She hoped to get a few more hours’ rest. She turned out the light and lay down.
As sleep overtook her, she sensed God calling her to fast for the day and to continue praying. Terrific. She couldn’t fast without the whole jury knowing. She’d have to stay behind as they were taken out to dinner.Oh boy, Iwonder how they’ll react to that.
Her last waking thought was of Tak’s hostile eyes.