Angels of Humility: A Novel

by Jackie Macgirvin

  Saldu had repeatedly told him that his priorities were backward. He told Paul about the church at Ephesus,8 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.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “We judge ourselves unworthy servants, and that judgment becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. We deem ourselves too inconsiderable to be used even by a God capable of miracles with no more than mud and spit. And thus our false humility shackles an otherwise omnipotent God.”

  John Eagan1

  “Give God what you are and what you’re not. Then He’ll get the glory when He changes you.”

  Joyce Meyer2

  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.

  After having a snack, she turned on the news and prayed in the Spirit. My goal is to pray in tongues all the way through this program. She settled back and listened to the anchorman talking about a foiled purse snatching in Mt. Peilor.

  The first 15 minutes the Spirit prayed through Sarah for the Christians among the Ibo people in Gambia, an Islam country in Africa. Sarah knew nothing of Gambia, let alone the Ibo people, but the Spirit knew them intimately, their every need, and her prayers for them were answered.

  The next ten minutes Sarah prayed for the crew of a fishing vessel that had been overturned three miles off Japan’s coast. When they were plucked from the water by a passing ship, the Spirit prayed on for a young Vietnamese believer. His parents had disowned him because he refused to participate in the Tam Giao, a mixture of ancestor and spirit worship. Sarah would not see him until Heaven, but her five minutes of prayer helped sustain him during this difficult time of family rejection for the sake of the Gospel.

  The local news was over. The main thing on Sarah’s mind now was tomorrow’s weather. She had no idea she had ministered all around the world, touching needy lives from the comfort of her couch.

  “Let’s go for a ride and see what’s going on over at your jail,” suggested Joel. “And don’t forget to pray in tongues while you drive.”

  She prayed in tongues all the way there. She parked across from the jail and prayed for the construction workers’ safety and the jail’s timely opening. She especially prayed for the chaplain, whoever he would be. She prayed for the future inmates and for their families who would be affected by their incarceration.

  “I can start praying now, laying the groundwork for the inmates who will hear the Gospel.” Then she thought of Reverend Templeton and prayed for his current-day descendants, whoever and wherever they were, that they would all know the Lord and be as obedient as he had been.

  Sarah had embraced the phrase on her refrigerator, “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” She would do all she could for God’s Kingdom with the time she had left on earth. The things that used to hold her attention just didn’t seem as important anymore. She frequently thought of her favorite punch line: “You brought pavement?” It made her chuckle, just as often it made her cry.

  The spirit of Fear of Man was still keeping her from going back to church, and no one from the church had called to say they missed her. But fueled by her prayers, the church was growing weekly. Pastor Paul was almost beside himself. He felt a deep satisfaction that for once he was finally doing something right.

  “Way to go, pastor! You’re the man with the plan,” snickered Deception, digging his claws in deeper.

  When Buchanan County Correctional Facilities called, offering him the job of part-time chaplain, his demon acquaintances flew into a frenzy. “You hardly have the time to keep up with all the good things going on at your church. Your church and your family would suffer if you said “Yes.” God couldn’t be in favor of that,” said Respectability.

  In addition to that bit of rational thought, deep inside, Paul was still irked that BCCF had built on the church’s land and that he had been humiliated through the whole process. “Of course Sarah was to blame for that,” added Bitterness.

  He didn’t even pray about taking the position, but he felt a sense of smug satisfaction as, “No, not at all interested,” rolled off his tongue before he slammed down the phone.

  Where was Sarah? He hadn’t seen her at church for the longest time. Maybe she switched to the Baptist church. Oh well, wherever she was, she was no doubt causing problems for some poor pastor. Good riddance to bad rubbish. He flinched, feeling conviction from Saldu. “Sorry God, I didn’t mean to be that harsh.” But still, he was glad for wherever she’d disappeared to.

  The jobs at the jail were filled with folks from Bradbury, and some men even drove in from Mt. Pielor. As the time for the jail to open neared, Sarah went to investigate. When she walked through the front door and looked around, she was overwhelmed with a sense of destiny. “I can’t believe it’s here Lord, on my land, according to Your eternal plan. I almost feel like I’m on holy ground.”

  “I’m here to see the chaplain,” she explained to an employee wheeling a cart stacked with boxes.

  “There is no chaplain yet.” Sarah’s heart sank. She had planned on following the chaplain’s guidance as to how to get involved. “Is it OK if I look around?”

  “Fine with me. Just be careful. People are moving furniture and stuff everywhere.”

  By “look around,” Sarah of course meant prayer walk. She shuffled up and down every corridor, prayed over every cell, every employee’s office and locker, even the kitchen, laundry facilities, loading dock, and mechanical room. She backtracked, wanting to spend more time praying in t
he chaplain’s office. It was a small room painted institutional beige like everything else. The mini blinds were hung and there were several bookshelves, but that was all. As she raised her hands to pray, flanked by Joel and Malta, she heard the Lord’s voice, “I am the God of the second chance. My unfailing love never ends! By My mercies you have been kept from complete destruction. My faithfulness is great, and My mercies begin afresh each day.”3

  “When He was on earth,” said Joel, “Our Lord spent His time with tax collectors, prostitutes, and the demonized, those who were truly down and out. He left the 99 and went out after the one who was lost.”4

  Sarah gasped, “Lord, if You were on earth today, You’d be at this jail ministering.”

  Again Sarah heard the Lord speak to her, “My precious daughter, I am so pleased with you. You took an unpopular stand, and you felt like you were standing alone, but I was with you every second. I never left you. I will never leave you. I am pleased that you will be My ambassador to these broken men who will soon be arriving.”

  Ten days later, on a gray, drizzly day, the jail opened quietly. There was no ribbon-cutting ceremony, and Clarence refused to run an article about it in the Gazette.

  Sarah was especially excited that the jail was opened. At the same time, she knew it meant that if she was going to be obedient she was going to have to move way out of her comfort zone.

  I am absolutely the least qualified person on the face of the planet to minister to these inmates.

  “No Sarah,” said Joel, “you are the most qualified because you are the only one who is willing. Your availability to God’s use alone qualifies you above everyone else. Besides, I promise you, Jesus never said to anyone, ‘Well done my good and qualified servant.’”5

  “Don’t look at your perceived lack of abilities,” said Malta. “Look to God’s abilities. He has always used weak people.6 That’s the only kind there are.”

  “When you enter Heaven and talk to King David, the adulterous murderer,7 or the apostle Paul, the former persecutor of the church,8 or the miracle-working deliverer of God’s people, Moses, who ran and hid for decades in the desert9 you will find they all say the same thing. ‘I still find it hard to believe that God worked through me with all my flaws and sins. His mercy was there for me every step of the way, and I was in need of it every step of the way. He forgave my horrendous sins, and His power is responsible for anything I accomplished for His Kingdom. Even my ability to say yes to Him was His grace in my life.’”

  “Sarah, if you say yes to God, you have no limitations because He has no limitations. If what you’re grasping for and planning on doing for the Kingdom isn’t way beyond your ability, you’re probably not doing the right thing.”

  CHAPTER 22

  “I believe that if God finds a person more useless than me, He will do even greater things through her because this work is His.”

  Mother Teresa1

  “Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces we have received and let us not be ashamed or slow to do the humble work.”

  Mother Teresa2

  Sarah had an especially hard time getting out of bed that morning. She couldn’t get her legs to cooperate with her body. After much struggling and prayer, she finally sat up on the edge of the bed. She knew what the doctor had said, But canes are for old people. She grudgingly reached in the closet and grabbed the silver quad-cane with the four little legs at the bottom. As she stared at it, she thought that it seemed like just yesterday that she and George had been married. Where has my life gone? Why did I waste 71 years? How could I have been so foolish? Lord, help me to use the short time I have left to bring glory to Your name. She could almost feel the pages turning on the book of her life.

  Sarah managed to drive to the jail. She had to admit the cane made her steadier on her feet, but she felt like it couldn’t have been more conspicuous if it was plugged into an orange extension cord and was flashing a fuchsia neon light. In her free hand she carried a clear plastic container packed with homemade cookies. She thought they might open some doors. She showed her driver’s license and signed in at the checkpoint and turned left down the main corridor of cells. Since she knew the layout, she shuffled on. Joel and Malta accompanied her. She had no idea what to do or say. Help me Lord. Give me Your heart for these inmates. I need Your compassion, and I certainly need boldness. Lord, release Your mighty angels to touch these prisoners so the Sauls can become Pauls.

  She felt her rapidly beating heart. Several of the inmates looked up at her. A guard stopped her rather abruptly. “Your business here, ma’am?”

  “I’m just here to visit.”

  “Which inmate?”

  “Umm, well, all of them.” “What’s your purpose here ma’am?”

  “Well, I, I,” she felt like she had at the first Wednesday prayer time. Her face flushed but she managed to straighten up and say, “I think God told me to visit and pray for these inmates.”

  “You have to visit a specific one. I can’t just let you wander up and down the halls. Unless you have someone specific, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

  Anxiety washed over her. “I can’t believe I’ve come this far to get thrown out of a jail built on my own land. Jesus, help me. I need wisdom, and I need it quickly.” She stared up at the guard not knowing what to do. Behind her an inmate from a close cell called out, “Did you bring me cookies…Mom?”

  “Why yes, son, I did. And they’re your favorite,” she said as she turned around. Then she burst out laughing. The inmate was an African American. A voice from the next cell called out, “Mom, did you bring me cookies, too?” In just a second most of the inmates were calling out to “Mom” for their share of the cookies. Sarah laughed and turned back to the guard, who knew when to give up.

  “I must have been a terrible mother,” she said. “All my sons are in jail.”

  She slowly peeled the lid off the clear plastic container and walked to each cell offering her chocolate chip cookies. “Thanks, Mom,” they said. “Bless you, son,” she replied.

  There were only 15 inmates now, but it would fill up as jails in different counties sent their overflow to Bradbury. There were two cookies left, which Sarah offered to the guard. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow with more cookies,” she said. Several inmates waved or shouted, “Bye, Mom.”

  She made it back to her car and sat down. The armpits of her blouse were saturated and her heart was still pounding. Well, contact is established. What do I do next, Lord? Yes, that’s a good idea. She pulled up in front of Wilhelm’s grocery store, went inside and asked the stock boy to please bring all the Slice ‘N Bake cookies to the register for her. Cookies from scratch were very time consuming for her now. If any of the inmates noticed the difference, they never complained.

  She, her cane, her cookies, and Joel and Malta were at the jail every day for the next six days. Most of the inmates were quickly conditioned like Pavlov’s dogs. “Hi, Mom. Got cookies?” they said when they caught a glimpse of her. Some were only interested in the treats of course, but others felt comfortable chatting with and even confiding in Sarah. As she felt more acceptance, she also became bolder, asking certain inmates if she could pray for them, telling them the story of her land and how the jail got here, and presenting the plan of salvation, which she read from Gospel tracts she carried in her pockets.

  The Lord highlighted a specific inmate named Will. His arms were covered with tattoos of dragons and other angry looking beings. He wasn’t very friendly to Sarah, or anybody, for that matter. When Sarah visited with his cellmate, Stan, Will turned away. When she spoke of religious things, he would sneer or make derisive, profane comments. The Lord told Sarah to pray for him, which she did daily. One evening, she was fed up with his abrasive comments to her. She began praying about Will, not for him. “Lord, I don’t think I can tolerate him anymore. He’s rude and crass. He needs to learn some manners.”<
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  “Time for a lesson in compassion,” said Joel. Malta nodded.

  The Lord showed Sarah an image of William when he was about 3-years-old; he dropped a glass of milk in the kitchen. The glass shattered. His father turned, took several quick steps, swooped down on his son, and beat him. It was horrible for Sarah to watch, and she cried out, “Stop, make him stop.”

  When the image was finally over, Joel began, “The Lord looks on all His children with great love and compassion, even those who curse His name. William is lost, but he’s no more lost than you were when He had compassion and saved you. You were a criminal, found guilty in the Heavenly courts. Sarah, you were dead in your trespasses and sins3 and a child of disobedience. You were God’s enemy. Don’t ever forget; you did not choose Him. In His great mercy, He chose you. Each of William’s sins can be completely forgiven by the blood of Jesus, just as your sins also needed to be covered—and still do. To the Lord, William’s status is no different than yours was a year ago. God just saved you first.”

  “Remember, the vilest sinner is just one revelation from the Kingdom of God,” added Malta. “The Lord is grieved that in spite of His willingness to forgive, William still identifies himself by the worst moment of his life.”

  Joel drew his sword. It ignited as he pulled it out of the engraved golden sheath. Without hesitation he plunged it into Sarah’s chest, piercing her spirit. She wept, grieving over the ugliness of her judgmental attitude. In her spirit she saw God’s great love for William and for all the inmates who had been victimized and, in their brokenness, had victimized others.