The Evening I Spent With Gianna Jessen

Gianna turned to me in a brief lull between hand-shakers and asked, "Are you doing okay?" Surprised that she was checking up on me I nodded. "I'm fine."

Gianna Jessen's mother went through a saline abortion when seven months pregnant with her but contrary to everyone but God's plans Gianna survived. She was left with cerebral palsy, a powerful story, and a fiery passion. The crisis pregnancy center I volunteer at felt so blessed to have her as their speaker for their annual fundraising banquet.

There was just one small question: would Gianna make it?

Her flight was scheduled to arrive at 2:30 giving us plenty of time to get her, drive two hours to our home town, and allow her a chance to rest at the hotel and dress. My sister was to be her taxi service so when I called her at 3:30 I was a bit surprised to hear she was not at the airport.

The office manager pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, "Between you and I our speaker may not be able to make it tonight. Her flight is being pushed back farther and farther. At this point it is looking like she may get here at nine p.m. long after this event is over."

It had been a long day week for me. I had worked four long days as a poll worker in a special election, had company all weekend and nearly every night, and Tuesday, the day of the banquet that Gianna was supposed to speak at, I had spent in an all day class trying not to fall asleep.

On my way out the door one of the teachers caught me. "I don't want to scare you sweetheart just to warn you--I have it on good authority that there will be a protest tonight at the courthouse and I think they know about that event you're having a few blocks away.  They should be "peaceable" but I want you to know. Don't walk out to your car alone."

I was startled but kept calm and went on to the church we our event was taking place.

My town is a fairly small and generally peaceable town and if that information had come from anyone else I would have been tempted to discount it. As it was I passed my info on to the ladies in charge and kept my eyes open.

And then I was told Gianna might not make it until the event was over and our guests had left.

But she did. 

As I walked Gianna from my sister's car to the room where she could change clothes she smiled at me and said God had a plan with her lateness. She had been able to witness to a WWII vet at the airport and still make it to our event in time to speak.

Sure she was rushed from the airport to the church, and from her dressing room to the stage, and from there to a table at which she shook hands and autographed books, all without getting to eat supper, but to her, it didn't matter. God had a plan.

I missed her whole speech but I had the privilege of  sitting by her afterwards as the guests filed through, their eyes still moist but their smiles large for this fireball of passion.

"And who is this man?" Gianna would ask the ladies whose husbands hovered nervously in the background pretending not to care about shaking a celebrity's hand. The men would turned around, delighted that she noticed them.

"And how old are you?" She would ask the young ones. And "What is your name?" she would ask the shy people who shook hands and moved on quickly to let those behind them get a chance.

The people kept filing past, each with a story they wanted to tell Gianna. They had all been touched by some part of her speech, they all could sympathize with some part of her story and many claimed she was their new best friend. Gianna never pretended to remember their names once they were pasted but as long as they were standing in front of her they had her complete attention and she did her best to make them feel like individuals rather than part of a large crowd of fans.

And then there was me. I sat beside her handing out and taking the money for the books and t-shirts we were selling, obviously just another worker. Nevertheless, in one of her brief intervals of silence she took time to check on me.

"You doing okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine." I nodded.

"You've had a busy evening. I'm sure you're tired."

I grinned back at her. If she only knew! "I am tired. But that's okay. This is good and it will be over soon."

She reached out and patted my arm. "Thank you for what you have done tonight. You're sweet. "

Our office manager who was standing near by cut in, "Don't be fooled."

Gianna impressed me because she was very real. She never tried to give the impression that she remembered or would remember any of the people she worked with that night. But she knew we were human, not just robots floating around and making things happen. We were individuals. We had our own stories, our own fears, our own joys, and she boldly shown the light of Christ on everyone.

"Be strong in the Lord." she would tell us. "You will go far with Him."