by Alana Terry
The trauma Chelsea experienced on board Flight 219 would be enough to fill up a hundred therapy sessions, and even the strongest drugs in the world might not take all the fear completely away. But Chelsea was excited to start a new chapter in her life, a chapter where she learned to accept herself exactly where she was instead of always wishing to be something different or someone else.
A chapter where she appreciated her friends and family and recognized how blessed she was to be surrounded by such an inspiring and encouraging support system.
A chapter where her soul could experience God’s love in the midst of trials, joy in the midst of terror, and peace and happiness regardless of her circumstances.
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Thanks for reading Tears of Terror, book 5 in the Turbulent Skies novella series.
If you’re ready to jump into more fast-paced, action-packed adventures featuring other characters aboard Flight 219, dive into You Raise Me Up, book 6, in the Turbulent Skies Christian Thriller series today.
Grandma Lucy never set out to become a hero. But when hijackers take over her airplane mid-flight, it will require an incredible act of courage ... as well as an extraordinary sacrifice ... to fulfill her God-given destiny and intercede for the safety of everyone on board. You Raise Me Up is the sixth and final novella in the Turbulent Skies Christian thriller series, an unforgettable collection of interconnected stories about strangers traveling together aboard a doomed flight. Find out why Christian fiction readers can't stop raving about this heart-stopping, fast-paced series you can devour in a single sitting.
Buy You Raise Me Up for an unforgettable high-altitude adventure full of danger, suspense, and life-changing faith. Keep scrolling for a sneak peek, or if you really can’t wait, download your next binge-read immediately!
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CHAPTER 1
My name is Lucy Jean, but I insist on being called Grandma Lucy.
I should warn you starting out that my mind isn’t quite as sharp as it once was. I hope that’s all right with you. What I’m saying is that I’ve got a story to tell you, except I can’t always be sure that I’m getting things down exactly the same way as they really happened. Comes from getting older, I suppose.
I’ve lived a long life on God’s beautiful earth, and I’m tremendously thankful to say that the good Lord has sustained me for all these years, and I have no doubt he’ll continue to do so until the day he calls me heavenward.
I make my home in Washington. We’ve got a little farm in a small town named Orchard Grove. Maybe you’ve heard of it. Kind people. Small community. My niece and I raise goats there. Well, Connie tends the goats, but I declare she’s getting up there in years too and really needs to hire help.
If my own niece is a senior citizen, I wonder what that says about me and my age!
We do serve a wonderful Lord, don’t we? He’s so good to us in all his ways. I was just telling my grandson about it the other day. Let him know that it’s high time he realizes all the things he’s going through in life are God’s way of getting his attention. That’s the problem with young people. When something bad happens or things don’t go their way, they automatically assume God’s out to get them.
If they even believe in God at all, I should add.
Ian doesn’t. Not yet. But he will. I know it’s going to happen.
He’s had a sad life, my grandson. Mother killed by a drunk driver, and him so little. He and his sister both. Alayna’s doing well these days. Married to a pastor so far out in the country in Alaska those poor folks are hauling their own water. But they’re doing God’s work, Alayna and her little family.
Ian’s the one I worry about most. He’s got such a compassionate streak, my grandson does. Always talking about this injustice or that oppressed people group. And I love him for it, believe me. Some Christians stick up their noses at that type of thing, which I just consider hogwash. All you’ve got to do is flip open to any passage in the Old Testament, and you’ll see that God is a warrior for justice. Yes, he is.
Well, my grandson makes his living traveling the world. He’s a reporter, by the way, in case I hadn’t mentioned that earlier. He’s building a pretty big name for himself, too. Recently helped make a full documentary about that terrible tragedy in Detroit. You’ve heard of it by now, I’m sure. After what happened on Flight 219, everybody in the world’s heard about it, no doubt.
Short story is there’s a school for little kids in Detroit that never should have been built. You’d have to ask my grandson to give you all the details because as a journalist he’s better with the facts. But kids were getting sick. Parents were worried about long-term damage just because the particular spot where this school was built used to be a pharmacy factory, making all those pills, and that was before there were better safety regulations, so they didn’t handle their waste properly at all.
I feel so sorry for those poor kids and sorry for their parents too. But that certainly doesn’t excuse what General and his batch of criminals did to my flight when I was only trying to get home last December.
I’d gone to see Ian, the grandson I was just telling you about. He travels all over the world, like I mentioned, and was about to take off on another trip. He’s been working on a documentary about North Korean refugees, and I told him the day he started it several years ago I had a bad feeling about that place. The North Korean government really doesn’t take kindly to Americans poking around in their business, if you know what I mean, and I worry for my grandson, which may surprise you, seeing as how I’ve developed something of a reputation as a prayer warrior. Truth be told, I’m a worrywart, and that’s the perfect truth, especially when it comes to my grandchildren. It’d be different if Ian was saved already, but he hasn’t accepted Christ as his personal Lord and Savior. Not yet. So I told him, “Ian, it’s one thing if you go to North Korea and get yourself captured there after I’m perfectly convinced that your soul’s made its peace with God. It’s totally different if you’re still walking in rebellion to him. I’m worried for you.”
And he always says the same thing to me. That he’s not going into North Korea, he’s just interviewing refugees who’ve made it out to China. He promises me he’ll be safe, but I’m not so sure. Call it a premonition if you will. I just don’t like him going over there all by himself.
You’d think with him spending so much time in Asia, I’d be thrilled. That’s where I grew up, actually. My parents were missionaries in Shanghai. In fact, my father owned and operated one of China’s first bookstores and printing companies for Bibles and Christian literature. You can’t do that type of thing now, not unless you have special government permission, but back then things were a little different.
Of course, the political climate at the time was pretty unstable, but we managed. Even saw ourselves through the bombings of Shanghai, but that’s a story for another day.
I was telling you about Ian, wasn’t I? That’s where I was. So, my grandson lives out near Boston, even though, like I told you earlier, he’s traveling all the time. I really do pray that one day God sends him a nice young woman to help ease that restless burden in his soul. I sure would love to see that boy settled down before the good Lord calls me home to glory.
Anyway, I was on Flight 219 because I’d been out East to visit my grandson. See him off before another one of his trips around the world. I wanted him to hear the gospel one last time as well, so we went out to dinner, and I spelled it out to him plainly. He’s a sinner, just like we all are, and unless he repents and ask God to forgive him, he’ll remain lost.
Ian’s a smart boy. Graduated from Harvard, even. But he doesn’t like to be told that he’s wrong. Thank the good Lord, we have a good relationship, and he knows I’m only telling him these things because I love him so much.
What I did was plant some seeds. It’s up to God now to water them and make them grow.
That’s why I pray for Ian as hard as I do. For Ian and all my other grandkids an
d great-grandkids who aren’t walking with the Lord. Not yet. I pray that God would open their eyes to the glorious truths of his Word, that he’d send them conviction when they need it, that he’d make them so unmistakably aware of his love for them and his presence in their lives.
It’s one thing to know about God. It’s quite another thing to know him personally.
I went decades not understanding the difference, squandered years of my life before the good Lord showed me some sense. But that’s a story for another day.
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