“Prayermoves the arm that moves the world.”
HerodAgrippa, finding that the death of the Apostle James pleases the Jews, has seized the venerable Galileean fisherman and thrust him into prison. Four quaternions of soldiers are guarding him. He is chained by each hand to a Roman soldier—soldiers who know that, to sleep at their post is to die. Thus guarded, the doors and windows and gates all bolted and barred, he lays himself down to sleep. His sleep is doubtless sweet and refreshing. His faith is strong in the promises of the Lord. To human eyes, death seems certain. On the coming morrow, this veteran soldier of the cross must lay his life down for Jesus. Tears, hot and bitter, will be shed by God’s people over the lifeless form of him who once so fearlessly breasted the strong waves of Galilee to meet his Master.
But we are told that the Church “made prayer untoGod, without ceasing, for him.” And even while he is quietly and sweetly sleeping, there isgoing up from an inner chamber on one of the dark and unfrequented streets of Jerusalem, a fervent, importunate prayer in his behalf.
During the prayer, an angel of the Lord descends and stands by the side of the slumbering apostle. A heavenly radiance lights up the dark cells of the dismal prison. The heaven-sent messenger arouses the sleeper, and the chains fall from his hands. No sound of footsteps is heard; no rattle of chains breaks the solemn silence. There is no hurry. Peter slowly girds his coat about him, and binds on his sandals. He then throws his rough cloak around him, and follows the angel. They pass, unheard and unseen, through the wards of the prison; the massive gate moves on its hinges, and opens wide at their approach. At last he is safe—safe from the wrath of his enemies. All—all of this accomplished through importunate intercessory prayer!
Christian, I care not how lowly your situation, never say again, “I can’t do any thing for Jesus.”You can pray.