"Enough!" He opened one eye. Through the red, bloody haze, he saw a man dressed like a magistrate motion to a modestly dressed man. He only wore some of the Roman uniform, so Silas didn't think he was a soldier. The magistrate was talking to the men who owned the previously demon-possessed girl. "The jailer will see that they are put in prison, and put in stocks until we can determine what to do with them."
The idea certainly didn't appeal to Silas, but he had more important things to worry about right now. He slowly moved his jaw in a circular motion, testing if it was broken. Convinced it was okay, he croaked out, "Paul?"
His friend moaned behind him, towards his left. Paul looked like Silas felt. He winced for his dear friend. Soon guards surrounded them, picking them up, and shoving them forward. The futile attempt at making them walked ended with Paul and Silas falling on their faces. Silas felt a sharp rock pierce the flesh of his forehead. The guards gave up and hoisting them high, dragged them. Silas' legs dragged against the ground, and he tried to maneuver his good leg to take awkward steps with his Roman escorts.
Blood flowed freely into his eyes from the new wound. The warm streams dripped their trail on the ground. Blackness clouded his vision, and while he tried to fight it, eventually he succumbed to the sweet darkness...
He was lying on his back at an awkward angle. It all came back to him. The healing. The riot. The beating.
The prison.
He pushed himself up, and saw that his feet were in stocks. He twisted to look behind him and saw Paul. He was sitting up, eyes closed, and humming.
"Paul."
Paul opened his eyes and smiled. "Good morning, Silas."
"What time is it?"
"It's about midnight. We've been in the prison for less then a day." Paul went back to humming his song. He looked serene. Just sitting in prison and humming.
Silas sighed. Eyes sliding shut, he flung himself down and tried to pray. However, the events of the day played through his mind, and the uncomfortable angle of the stocks only added to his irritation.
Silas' eyes flew open. He had started humming along with Paul! His feet had even started tapping in rhythm with the tune.
Of course!
"Paul," the older man opened an eye at him, "Lets sing! Oh, the song about Jesus marching with us!"
The two men offered up their meager song loudly, joyfully. The other prisoners shouted profanities and threats at them, but the louder they sang, the quieter the prisoners became.
Minutes trickled by them. They were completely unaware, caught up in worship. Silas clapped his hands over his head, while Paul thumped the wooden stocks, bringing the beat to life.
Silas felt free. Despite their physical circumstances, he felt completely at ease. He loved to praise and worship God, and in times like these, it was Heavenly comfort. So despite everything around them, Silas made a glorious trip into God's house.
Silas had no idea how long they were singing, if it was just minutes or hours, but the ground started to shake violently.
Then the prison doors swung open...
Based on Acts 16:16-25
So Paul and Silas speak Jesus' healing power into a young woman's life. She is freed from her demons. Then the money grubbers see their hope of future fortune slip away. They have Paul and Silas arrested, and start a riot. Soon all kinds of people are attacking them, and the officials give the order to have them beaten, thrown into prison, and put in stocks.
What do they do?
They praise Him!
They didn't praise God because it was the key to getting out of their physical prison. They praised God because it was the key to getting out of their spiritual prison. Then the spiritual superseded the physical, and it led to physical freedom.
There are moments when I am so lost in worship that I don't notice anything else around me. My rumbling stomach isn't distracting me with thoughts of food, because I missed breakfast. Noises don't distract me. I don't care if people are watching me. I don't care what they might be thinking. I don't even open my eyes for them. I'm just lost in His beauty. I feel His presence. I feel truly beautiful, and I just want to swirl, twirl, and dance before Him. I want to leap, shout, and sing my praises! I love when I reach that place of worship! It's a place of freedom.
"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness." Psalm 30:11
Paul and Silas reached that place of praise and worship, and their praised changed the atmosphere. God stepped into the situation, and soon they were on their way
Why did they praise and worship? Why was it in their heart to go to that supernatural place of freedom? It was more then just a "Get Out of Jail" card. It was natural for them. In good times and bad.
Is that our heart?
"Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul! I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God while I have my being." Psalm 146:1-2
Is it our heart to be lost in God, not just in the low points, but in the high points? Will we praise Him with everything we've got, every moment we've got? Do we long for Him so much, that we sing praise and worship to Him?
"One thing have I asked of the Lord, that I will seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple." Psalms 27:4
Praise and worship are your personal keys, hidden under the ceramic frog. You know it's there. You have access.
His heart is for you to come as often as possible.
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