Escaping From Prison

Acts 16:25-30
²⁵But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. ²⁶Suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone's chains were loosed. ²⁷And the keeper of the prison, awaking from sleep and seeing the prison doors open, supposing the prisoners had fled, drew his sword and was about to kill himself. ²⁸But Paul called with a loud voice, saying, "Do yourself no harm, for we are all here." ²⁹Then he called for a light, ran in, and fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. ³⁰And he brought them out and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?""

In the scripture above we read that the chains and walls that imprisoned Paul and Silas were broken when they worshiped God, and this is something I have often heard taught. We ought to praise God under all circumstances and in all places for He is more than able to come to our rescue. However, there is an interesting aside to this story that I have never specifically heard taught.

If the scene above had been written for a Hollywood movie then the chains would have broken, the walls come down, and Paul and Silas would have quickly and quietly snuck away to their smuggled freedom. They would no longer be confined but they would have remained fugitives.

However, Hollywood didn't write the story, God did. In His perfect version, Paul and Silas stayed, despite the opportunity for freedom, and a man and his entire household were saved through their testimony.

What can we learn from this? When I find myself in a prison situation, a season when I feel trapped with no way out. A scenario where I have been falsely accused and/or even convicted of crimes I did not commit. Or, like Paul and Silas, perhaps I am indeed guilty of that which they accuse me, but the action was not wrong. What do I do? Do I sit in my isolation and weep, "Why, God? Why?" Or do I choose to praise Him in the midst of my darkness?

Let's assume for the sake of continuing that I have made the better choice. I have praised God from the depth of my despair and He has heard my cries for help. The doors to my proverbial cell swing open and God whispers, "You are free to leave, my child, but if you choose to stay you will be a part of something amazing."

That is the great challenge. When I have been accused, and imprisoned. When evil people say hateful things against me. When the very deck of my life seems stacked against me God offers me freedom, but asks for my sacrifice. Then the question becomes, "How far will you follow me, My child?" I stand in my cell at the edge of my open door, ready to run when again His voice whispers, "How much of yourself are you willing to give for My sake?"

If I choose to make a run for it, He cannot be angry. After all, it is a freedom He, Himself granted. In fact, many of us would run out the doors glorifying God for His faithfulness. But if I am willing to be still and trust Him, might He use me to accomplish something even more miraculous? What might happen if I am willing to lay my own interests aside and wait for Him, despite my own discomfort?

In the story above, not only was the prison guard saved, along with every member of his household, but Paul and Silas were set free as truly free men, not fugitives who had miraculously broken their bonds. If I will only wait and listen for Him, might God do more for me than tear down a few walls? If I will take a chance based on my confidence in Him, if I will surrender to His will over my own fears and preferences, might He tear down those walls and then use me to begin to rebuild beyond my greatest expectation?

This is a valuable lesson for me, and I believe I am not so very different than anyone else. Too often I seek whatever will bring me comfort and make me happy, but my perception is off. I see such a small corner of the larger picture He is painting. Oh if I will only be content to wait for Him, what might He be able to do in and through me!

Freaked Out Blessedness

I realize that it has been far too long since my last post and I cannot thank enough those people who enjoy my blog enough to contact me and tell me you've missed it. Our beautiful life has been a bit of a multi-tasking circus and I've been the Ring Master trying to juggle all the acts. This brings me to today's inspiration.

While chatting with a friend who is praying about some choices in her life she said she feels a bit "freaked out" by the possible changes. I laughed, knowing well the feeling, and then replied that I live in a perpetual state of "freaked out blessedness."

My son brings so much joy into my life, and into our family. He makes me laugh and he makes my heart flutter. But with all of this joy and energy comes the greatest responsibility I've ever had. That responsibility can seem incredibly daunting. This little life is waiting to be shaped. He is looking to me to teach him, train him, and enable him to succeed. It is a tremendous honor and a heavy burden. But, God promises that His yoke is easy and His burden is light, and He has called me to shape, teach, train, and enable this little man so that can only mean that He will carry me through.

A few months ago I was beginning to pray for and about my family. I was deciding what to pray for and about and as I thought through the various possibilities I realized something quite simple that has revolutionized my thinking. It was simple, and apparently I've been missing it for years.

Why am I so concerned about praying for more children but not too many children? I have a boy now, should I pray for a brother to be his playmate or a sister to "complete" our family. (Isn't that part of the American dream?) It all sounds so ridiculous as I type these words, but this is exactly what I've done throughout my life on any number of subjects. I decide what I believe is best for me and then I pray for God to make it happen.

On the aforementioned night, that changed. If God wills me to have a child every two years for as long as I'm able, probably totalling about eight, then I need to pray that God gives me patience; that He helps me to find and hold on to peace amidst the sometimes chaos that surely would frequent our home; that He enables me to always make my husband my top priority, never neglecting that most important relationship. What is, on the other hand, my son was a singularly wonderful gift from God? If he is the only child that God grants us biologically then I need to pray that I use my time wisely, for surely I will have more of it than the mother He grants many children. I need to pray for contentment with the beautiful child He has already given me. I need to pray that I find my fulfillment in Him, not in my family.

Don't you see? It has nothing to do with what I want or desire or prefer. My prayer has become "God help me to become the woman that I need to be in order to walk out the path that You've laid before me. Help me to be who You've created me to be."

Jesus prayed "I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do." (John 17:4)

Let me live my life able to say the same when my years have ended. Let me not claim that I have done everything I ever wanted to do, or that my plans have succeeded. Let me live my life and finally declare that I have brought God glory on earth by completing the work He gave me to do, by becoming the creation He always intended me to be.

So, there are moments when more children seems perfect, and there are moments when I can hardly manage the one I have. God knows that. He also knows exactly what I am truly capable of.

After almost six years of marriage, I still get butterflies in my stomach when I hear my husband pull into the driveway after being away at work. He still makes my heart pound. For no reason whatsoever, my little boy runs up to me from behind and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I am, indeed, blessed to be living this life.

Maybe I'm supposed to be a little freaked out. It keeps my eyes on Him.