When the Intercessors Doubted

 

 

Herod was violently angered

And James he had killed,

I was next in line

And targeted for the death grill.

 

Well he ordered my arrest

And sentenced me to prison

And posted a heavy guard

To guard me in the dungeon.

 

There the security was tight

So there was no chance of escape,

Herod’s plan was that after Easter

My life he would take.

 

Hence he had me chained

Between two soldiers

And right at the prison doors

He still posted prison keepers.

 

As far as I was concerned

This was the end for me,

No way I could escape that prison

With its maximum security.

 

I didn’t tell you my name

But I guess by now you know

I won’t bother with that detail

So let’s go on with the flow.

 

There I was in that dungeon

Wondering how I would go

And remembering James’ demise

That was a distressing blow.

 

The consolation for me was

I was there on account of Christ

And I considered this a privilege

For him to give up my life.

 

Of course you’d note the change

From what I was before

For when accused of being with him

I had walked right out the door.

  

However, I had been changed

Having seen the risen Lord

And so only death could stop me

From spreading his Holy Word.

 

Let them do what they will

I had that blessed hope

That the same Lord I served

Would help me in this to cope.

 

While in that prison cell thinking

At some point I fell asleep,

The next I know I was awakened

And an angel pulled me to my feet.

 

“Follow me,” I heard him say

And I thought it must be a vision,

The iron-gate opened of his own accord

And we walked right out of prison.

 

Then I knew for a surety

That the Lord had delivered me,

Herod’s prison was no match for God

Even with maximum security.

 

I made my way along the streets

By this time I was alone,

Next I knocked on Mary’s house,

This was the mother of John.

 

This was not the disciple

That had lain on Jesus’ breast

Rather, this was John Mark

In whom Barnabas would invest.

 

I didn’t know it then

But someone had heard my voice,

Rhoda, a little girl, I was told

Had made an interesting choice.

 

She ran back to the folk inside

And told them I was outside,

Funny thing they had been praying

But yet her word they denied.

 

Before you begin to accuse

These faithful folk for doubting,

Think of your own experiences

They don’t deserve your flouting.

 

At my incessant knocking

Eventually they opened the door,

They were astonished at my presence

But elated to the core.

 

I beckoned them to silence

And told them what had occurred,

They listened with intent

And no doubt their faith was stirred.

 

Herod had sought for me

But evidently had found me not,

He questioned the prison keepers

Then executed the whole lot.

 

How could I have escaped?

This prison was so well outfitted,

What a traumatic experience for Herod!

By God he was outwitted.

 

So Traumatized was Herod

That he was forced to nurse his pride,

He went down from Judea to Caesarea

And there he decided to reside.

 

Stewart Russell © April 2018