That evening, after Paul’s phone call, Chelsea knelt beside the hotel bed, desperately praying.Words from the prosecution, from the defense, roiled inside her head until she thought her skull would burst. The rest of the jury had been escorted out to dinner, while she’d once again begged off. She could imagine the raised eyebrows, the judgments festering in the mind of each juror. Here she was, on the eve of their deliberation, further distancing herself.
So what? she countered. It didn’t matter what they thought. She had to pray.
She gripped the bedspread, speaking aloud.Asking God for grace, for strength and wisdom during deliberations. She could not shake the sense that she was preparing for an unknown and unpredictable battle. Meanwhile, she knew, God was continuing to work his will through others.
How am Isupposed to vote, Lord? I’m so confused about what I’ve heard. Isuspect Darren Welk, and yet Ithink Brett was involved. I’m scared to deliberate with that jury, especially if Idisagree with them.Help me deal with Tak and Hesta and Latonia…
How many of the jury members knew about her niece’s relationship with Brett? she wondered. How many, in their phone calls from loved ones, had listened to the whispered tales they were not supposed to hear? If she voted not guilty,would they suspect she was doing it for Kerra? Yet they wouldn’t be able to voice their suspicions, because they weren’t supposed to know.What kind of strange standoff would result?
And if she voted guilty, wouldn’t Kerra hate her?
God, Iknow Ishouldn’t worry about these things. Help me just to do what’s right.
Her worst concern lay with the rest of the jury. Perhaps the judge’s instructions would help. Perhaps after hearing them, she’d find that the doubts she carried weren’t “reasonable” enough for a not-guilty vote.
Lord, Idon’t want to disagree with any juror. They dislike me enough as it is. Be with me. Be my Dread Champion.
That verse. Jeremiah 20:11. She’d memorized only a phrase of it, but Chelsea sensed she may need to cling to it during deliberations. Pushing up from her knees, she reached across the bed to slide her Bible off the nightstand. Turning to Jeremiah 20:11, she read the verse.
The LORD is with me like a dread champion;
therefore my persecutors will stumble and not prevail.
They will be utterly ashamed, because they have failed,
with an everlasting disgrace that will not be forgotten.
Chelsea repeated it aloud, again and again, until she knew it by heart.