Angels of Humility: A Novel (20 page)

After she finished her prayer walk she had a snack. Then she gathered her Bible and got in the car. She followed Old Highway 3 out of town and pulled across the street to look at the jail. Because of the cold weather, it
had been several months since she’d been there. Most of what she was used to seeing had been bulldozed. The old wood fence surrounding the property was gone. She remembered how she and George had labored to keep it repaired.
And then there was the time we had to paint it. Oh, my goodness!
She smiled at the memory now, but it wasn’t amusing then.

The jail’s huge. I guess it has to be to hold over 100 inmates
, she thought. The four exterior walls were up and the roof was on. She felt a deep satisfaction for the part she had played, her small link in God’s plan for “such a time as this.”

She left the jail and parked at the cemetery. She sat by Reverend Templeton’s grave. As she touched the head stone she repeated a quote she’d read in her devotional guide last week. It had stuck with her. “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”
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Reverend Templeton, I feel like we are kindred spirits, drawn together by God’s plan for a plot of land. I look forward to meeting you when I get to Heaven. By the way, I know you know this since you’re with Jesus, but the plan for our land is progressing well
.

When she got home she took four pieces of typing paper and in her best penmanship she painstakingly printed copies of the phrase from her devotional guide. The tremor in her right hand had worsened, interfering with her writing and crocheting.
This looks like a first grader did it
, she thought, somewhat disgusted by her best efforts. Nevertheless, she taped one on the wall at the foot of her bed, one on the bathroom mirror, and one in the living room.
Now for the one location that will really get the most traffic—my refrigerator door
. In order to make room she had to rearrange all the pictures and newsletters from missionaries whom she prayed for daily. She called it her “devotional refrigerator.” She never got something to eat without praying for someone who was ministering in another country.

“Sarah, you need to add another daily prayer ritual,” prompted Joel as she read the obituary page from Mt. Pielor’s Sunday paper. As she scanned the pictures, she wondered what kind of lives these people had lived and if they had known the Lord. She was saddened by the finality of the situation. No more chances; they had made their choice—destiny was sealed. I
hope they chose wisely
, she thought.
Life is so fleeting. I wonder how many people last week thought they’d end up in the obituaries this week?

“Pray each day,” said Joel, “for the people all around the world, who are going to die in the next 24 hours. Pray that the Lord would give them repeated chances to be saved and that the enemy’s deception that clouds their judgment would be supernaturally removed. No one who even catches a fleeting glimpse of our Lord’s great love would ever reject Him.”

“The Lord is not willing that any should perish. Even if someone has spent his whole life cursing God, He still longs to snatch them from the enemy’s kingdom on their last day on earth.

Joel added, “When Christians get to Heaven, they receive a full understanding of the incredible price that Jesus paid to obtain their salvation. They will worship around the throne day and night crying out in thankfulness, “Holy, Holy, Holy.” However, those whose hearts are overflowing with the most gratitude are those who were snatched from Hell on their last day on earth, possibly at the moment of their last breath. Those are the very best worshipers.”

“My friend, C.T. Studd was a missionary to China, India, and Africa during the early 1900s,” said Malta. “While he was on earth he said, ‘Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of Hell.’
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The Lord wants you, through intercession, to work at that rescue shop.”

With a tear in his eye, Joel said, “There are about 100,000 a day who die without our Lord, and He has already paid the full price for their salvation.”

Sarah prayed this for a few days in a row and then it slipped her mind. Later in the week she turned on the evening news and was horrified at what she heard and saw. A major earthquake had hit Afghanistan.

“More than 5,000 people may have died in a powerful 7.6-magnitude quake,” said the announcer. “Several villages have been completely wiped out. As you can see here, people rushed to dig with bare hands, trying to rescue children trapped beneath the rubble of their school.”

Sarah quickly turned the television off and began sobbing and praying. “Oh Jesus, please, please forgive me for not taking Your command seriously to pray each day for the people who are going to die.

“Lord, I know there are many people still alive and trapped beneath the rubble and that many others will die in the next few days. Lord, please have mercy. You are the God who is not willing that
any
should perish. Would you make Yourself real to every person crying out in prayer, even if they aren’t crying out to You? Lord, You are the true God; would You answer them?

“Lord tear down deceptions and strongholds that would keep them from accepting You. Would You let them see Your eyes of love looking into theirs, longing for them to turn to You, and longing to take them to Your Kingdom of life? Lord, would You snatch them from the enemy’s kingdom even during the last seconds of their lives?

“Send Your angels to minister to every injured person. Please supernaturally guide the rescue workers. Let them get to the people who are still alive. I pray for the people who have lost loved ones and are homeless and traumatized. Lord, in some tangible way will You make Yourself real to them?”

Sarah continued to pray most of the rest of the evening and fell asleep with a plea on her lips for salvations in Afghanistan.

Sarah hadn’t been to church all winter, partly because of the weather, but also because Fear of Man had convinced her she would not be well received. Now that the weather was nicer, Barbara encouraged her by saying that most people at Victory Church were over it by now, but Sarah was unconvinced.

Thursday came and Sarah thought about attending the new visitation program, but in the end decided it might not be wise. I’ll
just slow down whatever group I go with
, was her rationalization. But she still struggled with fear of rejection. The memories of the first prayer meeting and the town meeting at the Elk’s lodge were still an open wound. If she imagined them for any length of time, she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. She decided that her contribution would be to pray for one hour every Thursday night, starting at 7, for those who were visiting.
Lord, I commit to do this as long as the program continues, provided You give me the grace I’ll need
.

Pastor Paul, wanting good attendance the first night of the visitation program, and being nobody’s fool, scheduled a potluck dinner to kick it off.

Forty-three people attended. Wilma brought her homemade peach cobbler (although she went home immediately after the potluck).
It doesn’t get any better than this
, thought Paul, scooping seconds out of the baking dish.

Each Thursday evening, Sarah was on her knees praying, and each week someone was saved. People started visiting and joining the church. Sarah also spent another hour each week praying for Pastor Paul and the church. God was honoring her prayers. They thwarted some of the traps the enemy laid for Paul.

Pastor Paul, on the other hand, had let his prayer time slide to mostly the Wednesday night meeting. The rest of the time he was just too busy. He had great intentions, but when he went to bed at night and reviewed his day, he just couldn’t fit it in. He had to prepare a killer sermon each week. I
don’t want the church to regret their decision to call me as pastor
. He’d also started doing counseling—marital and individual. At least three evenings a week were tied up at the church. He was trying to get a cross-denominational prayer breakfast going for all the pastors in town. There were occasional hospital visits, and he at least tried to squeeze Kathy and Jordan in somewhere for some quality family time.

Deception perched on his shoulder and dug in his gnarled claws. His red eyes flashed as he whispered, “The Lord is really blessing your efforts. You’ve added four new families recently. If this keeps up you’ll be ahead of schedule for your building campaign.” Paul was sure he could feel the smile of God over his life because so much was getting done. Productivity always came with a sense of satisfaction, along with an intense, but short lived, boost in self-esteem. Then he was back on the treadmill chasing his next affirmation fix.

Saldu had repeatedly told him that his priorities were backward. He told Paul about the church at Ephesus,
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whom the Lord commended for not growing weary in their many good works, but then rebuked for leaving their first love.

“Paul, all the busyness in the world means nothing if you’ve lost your passion and intimacy with the Lord. Start slashing items off your calendar to clear time to spend with Him, for prayer and Bible study. The Lord longs to hear from you. Prayer isn’t a last resort in a desperate situation; it’s a preemptive strike against the enemy.”

Joel smiled at Malta as Sarah picked up her daily devotional guide. He reached for his sword; the tip was on fire. Malta smiled, “Father’s increasing her prayer anointing today.” Sarah prayed that the Lord would bless her time in the Word, as she always did, and opened the pamphlet. The first verse was Colossians 4:2. She read out loud,
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” Lord, help me to devote more of my time to prayer. I’m so limited in what I can do, but I can pray. Show me how to devote myself to prayer and give me a special grace to pray without ceasing
.

Next was Ephesians 6:18,
“And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests….”

“Sarah,” said Malta, “First Corinthians 14:15 says that if you pray in tongues, your spirit prays, but your mind, or understanding, is unfruitful. When you pray in the Spirit, the Spirit prays through you. You only give
breath and enunciation with your mouth. Since this type of praying bypasses your mind, you can pray in the Spirit even when you’re reading a book, watching television, or reliving a nice memory. Get in the habit of praying in the Spirit all the time. Even if it doesn’t feel anointed, it’s powerful because the Holy Spirit of God is praying His prayers, His perfect will, through you.”

“If you’re not eating or talking, you can be praying in the Spirit,” added Joel, touching the tip of his sword to her lips. “Increase in your ability to pray in the Spirit. Increase now.”

Sarah felt nothing special or supernatural, but had a dogged determination that she would get in the habit of praying in the Spirit as much as she could—starting now. To test this, she began praying in the Spirit silently and picked up her devotional guide and read the rest of the page with her mind.
It really works. Whenever I’m not talking or eating, I can pray in the Spirit, no matter what I’m doing
. She decided that to develop this habit she’d always pray in tongues during certain activities; once these became a habit, she’d add more.

Lord, help me to remember to pray in tongues when I’m watching television, reading, driving, or taking a shower. Help me to remember other times, too
. Every time she went through a doorway, she cultivated the habit of checking herself to see if she was praying.