Expectant or Astonished by Robin Densmore Fuson
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The
fifteenth knock sounded on the door and Rhoda hurried to answer. A whispered
code and a particular word answered back before she opened the door to another
expected visitor. Earlier, the sun rested its head behind the edge of the world
and the stars glinted as the moon glowed in the inky darkness. They came when
they felt safe. Hiding in the shadows. Keeping a low profile.
As
greeting servant, Rhoda monitored the door, took wraps, filled the feet washing
bowls, wiped city grime off guest’s feet, and led them to more comfortable
sitting inside the main house. She smiled at each familiar face. Some took her
hands and spoke a soft, kind word. Others wrapped her in hugs.
They came
with a purpose and a mission.
A prayer
vigil.
Her
mistress Mary and her son Mark sent runners to give word to the new church
congregation that sprang from the mighty words of Peter at the unforgettable
life-changing Pentecost, to hurry to their home to pray.
The new church
felt the blow from King Herod, who, being impressed with his own power,
executed James, John’s brother, and imprisoned Peter. These two were pillars of
the church, apostles of Jesus, and preachers of the good news.
Another
knock sent Rhoda scurrying to the entrance for the password. More guests
arrived with expectant looks of fear mingled with joy in greeting. They came
with purpose and in one accord. “Any news?” whispered one.
Rhoda
shook her head, then took care of their needs before escorting them deeper into
the house.
Months
before, Peter explained to Rhoda that God’s kingdom was open to all people, old
and young, rich or slave. All could become a follower of the Way led by Yeshua.
She believed and was baptized. Her life changed on the inside and found new joy
in her position and gladly served others. All Yeshua’s followers became her
friends.
Love for
their Lord and the Apostle Peter brought these disciples into the cool night to
Mary’s dwelling to pray.
Candlelight
flickered in the packed house. Murmurs of voices mingled as guests reclined
around the expansive gathering room. Small, low tables bore snacks of fruit,
bread, and cheese. Another servant, Elizabeth, refilled goblets. Most visitors didn’t
come for the eats but to get down to the business of praying for an important
person.
Mary
understood the importance of the meeting and stood. “Friends, thank you for
coming on short notice. Herod has placed Peter with four squads of soldiers.
Herod must be afraid of our beloved fisherman.”
Chuckles
and a few “Amens” chorused back.
“Mark
visited him. Son, tell us what you witnessed.”
Mark rose.
“Peter shows a stubborn chin in the midst of being bound with two chains
between two soldiers. There are guards at every door. It’s a fortress. Dank,
and dark.”
Mary
patted his back. “We will pray for one of Jehovah’s miracles. Fire from heaven
like in Elijah’s day. Or confusion of Herod like when Johnathan and his armor
bearer came upon the Philistines, and disoriented by God, they attacked each
other. Maybe a deep sleep that overtakes the prison guards like when the
Assyrians besieged Jerusalem in Hezikiah’s reign. God is powerful, and prayers
are our tools of communication. Let’s send our petitions to Yahweh’s ears.
Yeshua said to call on our Father. His Father. Let’s begin. Mark, please start
us.”
Mark’s youthful
voice filled the room with his plea for deliverance of Peter. Others took up
the supplication. Voices mingled low and strong. Emotions of love, fear, grief,
worry, and concern flowed from the expectant voices of the gatherers.
Hours
passed. Candles burned down to nubs. Knees became sore. An interruption knock
sent Rhoda questioning who would arrive so late? She hurried to the entrance.
“Yes?”
“I’m out.
Can I come in? Rhoda it me.”
Unbelievable.
Excitement tingled through her. Overcome with joy, she turned and ran back to
tell everyone. “Guess what? Peter is at the door!”
From the
back of the room, a voice accused, “You’re out of your mind.”
She shoved
her fists onto her hips. “I’m telling you. I recognized his voice. It’s Peter.”
Someone
whispered. “It must be his angel.”
Rhoda
threw up her hands. “Come and see!”
The crowd
followed her.
The
knocking continued at the door.
She threw
up the latch and pulled it open.
There
stood the real deal—Peter.
Gasps and the
gang behind her spoke at once. “Peter!”
Peter
raised his hands for them to be quiet. They pulled him inside and locked themselves
in.
“Everyone.
The Lord sent His angel and rescued me from certain death. Go tell these things
to the Lord’s brother James and the brethren. I must be on my way before the
soldiers wake and come after me. I’m putting you all in danger. I thank you for
praying for me.”
Rhoda thrust
a travel bag, with a loaf of bread and a flask, into his hands. “Here. You’ll
need these.”
Mary put
her arm around her shoulders. “Thank you, Rhoda.”
“Yes.
Thank you all. I must depart. Tell them.” He crept into the dark and rounded
the side of the building, headed out of the city.
Rhoda closed
the door and the group burst out in praise and song.
This event
in Acts 12 tells me something about our perception of prayer, or I should say,
answered prayer. The people were devout followers of the Lord Jesus. They were
determined to spread the good news of Jesus and His resurrection. Amazing
leaders in the apostles were near to guide, teach, and exhort. James, Jesus’s
brother, became the pastor of the church in Jerusalem and it doesn’t get much
better than that. They believed. Possessed great faith. They saw amazing
miracles and performed them. Each of them possessed and most likely used the
gifts of the Holy Spirit.
The group
met to pray for a miracle. But when Peter showed up, displaying a miraculous
event of release, they couldn’t fathom it. Their responses show who believed
and who didn’t. Rhoda, overcome with excitement, forgot to open the door before
she wanted to share the news. But she didn’t doubt. The ones inside didn’t
believe her, even though they had prayed for such a thing as his release.
How does
that happen? What should’ve been their response? They should’ve all jumped up
and rushed to the door to greet Peter and sing out praise to God for quickly answering
their prayer and in an amazing way.
Do we
expect God to answer? When we pray, are we expecting to see God work? Or are we
like those faithful praying believers who didn’t really expect God to do
something so grand and at the exact time they were praying? Can God still do
that? Do we believe with our whole heart that He can and will? Do we pray in expectancy,
or do we open our eyes in astonishment when He does? I’m not saying God will do
a miracle in our lives at every prayer, but I am saying God is always working
and Jesus said we need to have faith when we pray. A small amount of faith goes
a long way. We can pray, “Father, I can’t wait to see what you are and will do
in my life through this______________.” (fill in the blank)
Are we
expectant or astonished?
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