Saved and Rescued

There are no atheists in foxholes, as the saying goes. Israel's King David knew much about wars and battles, and he was familiar with being the underdog. Through his tribulations, he learned about God and the power of prayer in very real and dramatic ways. From his life experience, he was inspired to write the following in a psalm:

As for me, I will call upon God; and the Lord shall save me. Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and he shall hear my voice. He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me: for there were many with me.
--Psalm 55:16-18

I am grateful I have never lay in a real foxhole with real bullets and bombs screaming overhead, and I honor the courageous men and women who have had to endure such experiences in the service in their country. Nevertheless, I have been pinned down in my share of spiritual foxholes, with the fiery darts of the adversary exploding all around me. Such foxholes are just as real and just as dangerous. While bullets can kill the body, fiery darts can kill the soul.

In either case, King David's counsel on prayer is vital, not just to survival, but to salvation.

When I consistently call upon God in prayer, I put myself in position to be saved and rescued. Though He may not pull me out of the battle, He will make me victorious. He will not leave me to struggle alone but will send reinforcements: companions and supporters to strengthen my feeble knees and lift up my hands that hang down. Sometimes those helpers are mortals and sometimes they are angels or the Holy Ghost. Whatever my need, the Captain of my soul knows how and when to send help.

God is always aware of my plights; nevertheless, when I pray, He increases my awareness of His role in my life. Prayer attunes me to His presence and influence. The more frequently I pray, the more sensitive I become to His proximity. The more power I put into my prayers, the more power He puts into my life. 

Speaking aloud in prayer helps to focus me. Even more powerful for me than speaking, however, is writing. Writing prayers may be a bit unorthodox, but I know Heavenly Father loves the written word; He has inspired a lot of written words. Now, God can hear my thoughts and silent prayers. He does not need to hear my voice or read my words, but I do. When I speak my prayer, it is not just in my head but in the air around me. When I write my prayer, however, it is not just in the air. It becomes physical as well as mental. The act of writing commits me in a way that just speaking does not. When I use the mortal body and the gifts God has given me to reach out to Him, mind and body together are powerful instruments.

Until Christ sends the order to charge, I'm staying in my foxhole and strengthening my helmet, shield, buckler and breastplate with prayer.