by Alana Terry
The story would get published how she envisioned it, and it would inspire and encourage thousands of believers. Her work would open up the doors of communication, get Christian leaders and pastors and ministers talking about this dirty little secret the church didn’t want exposed. With every other book she’d written, she’d enjoyed the unanimous support of the Living Grace board of directors. The same men and women who looked her in the eye yesterday and demanded her resignation were the men and women she’d called on the phone crying if she didn’t think she could finish her manuscript. Through every book in the past, they’d encouraged her. Prayed for her. Supported her.
Losing your job was one thing, but what about being torn away from your entire family?
Meredith glanced at the clock. One of the tips she gave women who wanted to find more time to connect with God was to make the most of waiting periods. Recite Bible verses to yourself while you’re standing in line at the grocery store. Get a Bible audiobook to listen to while you’re in the car. If you find yourself with time to spare and not a whole lot to do, go to the Lord in prayer.
Meredith decided to take her own advice. She bowed her head and prayed.
CHAPTER 4
Flight 219
Dear God, I don’t want to die.
It sounded so trite. So glib. Of course she didn’t want to die.
But there was so much more to Meredith’s prayer than mere survival instinct. And just like so many people who come face to face with death, Meredith found herself trying to bargain with God.
What about my next book, Lord? Think of all the victims it’s going to help. All the people it’s going to bless. Think of all the believers who need to read it.
As soon as she prayed these words, she realized how prideful she sounded. Did God need her words? No. She tried a different tactic.
I don’t want to die while my relationships with my old friends on the board are strained. Think how guilty they’ll feel if they find out I was killed just the day after they fired me …
No, that wasn’t the right focal point, either.
Think about the women I’ve ministered to, God. All those women I’ve helped. I can’t just abandon them.
The big man with the gun stomped back and forth in the aisle. Meredith tried to imagine how she’d react in a situation like this on her best days, when she was at her strongest spiritually, her most holy. She’d pray for him. That much was for sure. To take an entire plane hostage like this, he must be broken and hurting.
She would pray for him and everyone else on the plane. Pray for those who might not know Jesus yet. Ask God to give her the chance to tell them how to be saved.
That’s what she’d do on her best day.
Which clearly wasn’t today.
Today all she wanted was to erase the past few hours. Make it so she never stepped foot on this plane in the first place. All she wanted was to get back to Grand Rapids and nurse her aching soul in safety.
Today she wanted to live.
She wasn’t ready to die.
CHAPTER 5
Logan Airport
“Attention passengers for Flight 761.”
Meredith glanced up from her Bible to listen to the announcement.
“Due to inclement weather, all flights to Grand Rapids have been cancelled until further notice.”
Meredith’s spirit joined the chorus of groans from the passengers at her gate. The snowstorm must be moving faster than the meteorologists had predicted. No rookie to changed travel plans, Meredith was on her feet in an instant and the first at the counter.
“Meredith Crowley,” she stated for the attendant. “I’m trying to get back home.”
The woman shook her head. “Everything’s shut down because of the storm.”
Meredith tried to keep her voice polite. Reassuring. Based on the size of the line forming behind her, this worker was about to deal with several dozen irate passengers. Meredith didn’t want to make this any harder on her than necessary.
“What about flights to a nearby area? Is the Detroit Airport still open?” The last thing Meredith wanted to do was stay here in Boston. A detour through Detroit wasn’t the worst-case alternative.
The woman smiled at her albeit without much patience. “You could go to the main airlines counter. That’ll be your best bet if you wanted to try to re-route. Do you need directions there?”
Meredith shook her head and let out a sigh. Gone were the days when you could tell the ticket counter attendant where you needed to go and they’d print you up a boarding pass right there at the gate and offer you meal and hotel vouchers if you ended up delayed overnight. Well, Meredith didn’t plan to stay in Boston overnight. In fact, she doubted she’d ever want to return to this city after everything she’d gone through in the past twenty-four hours.
Meredith thanked the woman, clutched the handle of her carry-on, and made her way toward the correct terminal. With the snowstorm now spreading like wildfire, she would probably have to carve her place in line with hundreds of others. She might do better to call the airlines directly. Maybe she’d do both.
“Miss Crowley! Miss Crowley!”
Meredith turned around and saw a woman running toward her. Journalist if you were to judge by the small hand-held microphone she was waving in her direction.
“Chelsea Harris, reporter for Channel 2.”
Meredith wished she hadn’t paused for the stranger.
“Do you have a minute? Can I ask you a few questions?”
“I’m actually headed to a different terminal.” Meredith kept her voice curt, hoping the reporter would take the hint.
It didn’t work. “I’ll walk with you. Talk about a stroke of good luck. I’m on my way to report about the elementary school scandal in Detroit, but I’ve been following your story for quite some time now. My mom’s a big fan of your Bible studies.”
Meredith glanced at the young woman and suddenly felt every day of her age.
“My mom would never forgive me if I didn’t stop and talk with you,” Chelsea gushed. “My producer either. I just want to say how thankful I am that you’re championing the cause of women’s rights in the evangelical movement. Even my mom supports you one hundred percent, and she’s about as conservative as you get.”
Meredith did her best to sound polite. “Listen, I’m really thankful for your mom’s support, but my flight just got cancelled …”
“No problem.” Chelsea swiped the screen of her phone and shoved it into her back pocket. “We can be totally off the record. But I just have to ask you how it feels to be one of the only women willing to speak up against the patriarchy in conservative Christian circles.”
“That’s certainly not what I set out to do.” Meredith’s mind was reeling. For the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours, she reminded herself as well as the Lord that all she wanted to do when she founded Living Grace Ministries was create Bible studies to encourage Christian women. How in the world could a mission that simple become so controversial?
“I heard things have been a little rocky for you ever since you published that blog post on domestic violence last year. Is it true that some members of the board of directors asked you to take your original article down?”
When the board fired her yesterday, Meredith had told herself one silver lining she could find in the midst of her turmoil was that she’d no longer be a lightning rod for political controversies. Maybe she’d spoken too quickly.
“Listen,” Meredith said, hoping not to come across as rude or impatient as she felt. “I’m actually not legally able to discuss my relationship with the board of Living Grace at this time.” That much was true. Just a few more days, and this reporter could read all about Meredith’s resignation in the press. “I want to thank you for your interest, and please tell your mother thank you for her support, but I really can’t comment.”
Meredith sped up her pace, but unfortunately, Chelsea hurried along right
beside her.
“Oh, I totally get it. Remember, we’re off the record. Can I just say how happy I was to read your blog post last year to women in abusive relationships? You’re, like, the first Christian leader I know who actually had the guts to say that it was okay for women to get a divorce.”
Meredith paused long enough to brush a strand of sweaty hair out of her face. “Actually, I never specifically advocated divorce. I just encourage women in danger situations to take whatever steps were necessary to get themselves and their children to safety.” Meredith had defended her arguments from last year multiple times on multiple platforms. Based on the new drama with the Living Grace board, her writing to defend and protect abused women felt decades old.
Chelsea shrugged. “Tomatoes, to-mah-toes, right?” She gave Meredith a wink. “I’m just glad someone came out and said it. I suppose you knew going into it the backlash it would cause.”
Meredith nodded, even though she couldn’t be in complete agreement with the reporter’s assessment. When she encouraged church leaders to stop telling battered women to overlook their husband’s explosive tempers, she guessed that some people might skew her words. She didn’t delight in ending marriages for any and every reason; she just didn’t want to see victims battered, bruised, or dead.
Meredith’s cellphone rang. Thankful for the chance to pull herself away from this awkward conversation, she excused herself, reached into her purse, and took the call.
CHAPTER 6
Flight 219
“Get out your phones,” the gunman ordered. “I’ve got a message for the good folks down in Detroit.”
Meredith wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t her flight. If she hadn’t been so eager to get herself out of Boston, she could have waited an extra day and flown straight to Grand Rapids in the morning. Was this God’s way of punishing her for her impatience? A little overdramatic maybe.
“The people of Detroit have failed our kids.” The hijacker wasn’t saying anything new. Meredith and all the other passengers on Flight 219 had been listening to his tirade now for the past half hour. Of course parents wanted their children to have access to safe and quality educations, but who would go so far as to threaten innocent passengers on an airplane to make their point?
If Meredith hadn’t just lost her job, she might have offered to pay the gunman off himself. “You want better schools? Great. So does everyone else. How many improvements would a twenty-thousand dollar check buy your kids?”
This was madness. Sheer madness. If God wanted Meredith to stop focusing on her own worries, he’d certainly made his point.
Okay, God, she wanted to say. I’ve learned my lesson. You can land this plane now.
The young mother in the seat beside her was clutching her son and crying. The little boy looked stunned. Meredith wished she knew something she could say or do to offer either of them the smallest ounce of comfort. She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the young woman’s hand. The mother squeezed back so hard Meredith winced.
“It’s going to be all right,” she whispered.
“He’s only four,” the mother sobbed. “My sweet, precious baby is only four.” She clutched him closer against her chest.
“It’s going to be all right,” Meredith repeated, but then the gunman’s cellphone beeped. He gave the passengers a sneer and announced, “Okay then. Time for someone else to die.”
CHAPTER 7
Logan Airport
“Hi, Meredith,” came the voice on the other end of the line. “It’s me. Connor.”
Connor. She’d wondered if he’d give her a call or if he, like so many others, was ready to put distance between himself and her.
Meredith let out her breath. Her hands were sweating more than she wanted to admit as she fumbled in her purse for her hands-free set. “Hi, Connor.” She didn’t try to mask the tiredness in her voice. Didn’t try to put on a show to alleviate any guilt he felt. The two had been close once. Even dated a few times. Things might have gotten more serious if they hadn’t both realized how significantly Connor’s position as a divorced dad of two would compromise Meredith’s ministry. It had been three or four years since their last dinner out together.
Connor sounded as weary as Meredith felt. “Listen, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am. The board’s decision … it was far from unanimous.”
“I know.” It was nothing Meredith hadn’t heard before. But if every board member who assured her their decision wasn’t unanimous had voted in her favor, Meredith would still have her job. Her life. Her ministry. Still, she couldn’t picture Connor voting against her. They’d known each other for years now, back when Connor was still working for that Christian publisher out of Grand Rapids. Back before Meredith had written her first Bible study, recorded her first video, signed her first publishing contract. They’d attended the same church, and Connor was the one who introduced her to Meredith’s literary agent.
“This may not be a good time,” he began, “but I just wanted to see if there was anything I can do.”
“That’s kind of you.” Meredith was ashamed of herself for mistrusting Connor in the first place. This whole situation had made her second-guess every friendship, every relationship, every ally she had. But she shouldn’t have doubted him.
“I still know a lot of people in the publishing world,” Connor said. “If you’re looking for a new position …”
Meredith remembered their very first dinner out. Connor’s kids were still young at the time, and they’d had to postpone their date twice to accommodate his babysitter’s fickle schedule. “What’s your biggest dream?” Connor had asked over mediocre pasta. Meredith had told him about her vision to bring Bible-based workbooks and videos and books to Christian women around the world. She hardly knew him at the time, but he’d been so easy to talk to. So eager to hear what she had to say. Five minutes into their meal, and she’d divulge her entire mountain of dreams.
And he didn’t laugh. Didn’t question whether or not there was a market for more theology resources for women as opposed to topical studies on marriage or femininity or homemaking. He didn’t mention how hard it was to break out into the publishing world, where an unknown woman with no audience and no platform would be more likely to get hired on as a cleaning lady for a publishing house than to receive a decent contract.
Instead he sat back in his chair in that carefree, comfortable way, smiled, and said, “You know, I have a buddy who’s a literary agent. Let me see how hard it would be to get the two of you together for a meeting.”
And that was the beginning of Meredith’s new life. Serving as the president of Living Grace was exhausting, rewarding, and more often than not as frustrating as it was exhilarating. Still, Meredith knew that she was one of the privileged few who got to wake up every day convinced that she was doing exactly the work she was made for.
What could be more satisfying than that?
She thought back to that first dinner with Connor. Wondered if she’d take him up on his offer to help if she knew where she would end up right now.
The answer was a resounding yes.
Meredith adjusted her headset. It was just like Connor to be looking out for her even now. Just like he’d done over fifteen years ago. I have a buddy who’s a literary agent. Let me see how hard it would be to get the two of you together for a meeting …
And now he was basically offering her the exact same thing.
“That’s really nice of you to offer,” she told him on the phone. “I don’t know what the plan is. My flight just got cancelled because of this snow storm, and I don’t know how I’m going to get home …” Meredith recognized how close she was coming to tears and refused to let them fall.
“You’re still in town?” Connor sounded surprised. Surprised and something else. What was it?
She cleared her throat and steeled up her voice. “But I appreciate the thought. Thanks so much for calling.”
“Meredith, wait.”
She stopped with her finger over the end call button, her heart racing in her chest. She told herself it was because she’d been walking so quickly to get away from that reporter just a few minutes earlier.
“Yeah?” She cleared her throat again. She had to sound strong. Strong and brave. Because Connor was a fixer, and if he got even the slightest sense that Meredith was broken …
“I just wanted to tell you what a gifted teacher you are,” he said. “And I know God has something great in store for your future. I’m convinced of that.”
Meredith waited. For some reason she’d been expecting something else. Something more.
But the silence on the other line told her that Connor had said everything he planned to say.
“Thank you.” She needed to end the call now, or she really would start crying.
“Have a good flight,” Connor offered somewhat awkwardly. “Take care of yourself and stay safe.”
“I’ll try.” Meredith sighed wearily. “I’ll try.”
CHAPTER 8
Flight 219
“I just want to go home.” The little boy sitting beside Meredith started to cry. “I want to go home.”
His mother rubbed his back and tried to shush him. Meredith understood her reaction. All the passengers were doing everything in their power to avoid catching the gunman’s attention. Keep themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
“We can’t go home yet,” the boy’s mom was whispering.
Meredith leaned over to him. “Hey, buddy, what’s your name?”