As they began to sing and praise, the LORD set ambushes against the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir who were invading Judah, and they were defeated. 2 Chronicles 20:22
There are thousands left shackled in their own personal prisons. Waves of anxiety and depression seeking to steal away The Word and its power. Finding themselves ill prepared to do battle with a song of praise as the praiseworthy things seem to have vanished long before now.
Shackled armies spending time in the prison of their own thoughts. Thoughts that torture far more than anything man could design. And what an indignity a song of praise would seem in a time such as this.
And yet, Almighty God is on our side when we choose to praise. Almighty God who has wiped out single cities with the sweep of His hand and the touch of a single sword. And here we are, shackled remnants of His faithful army. Heirs to the throne. Sons and daughters of the King of Kings. Called to action yet lying motionless in our own pits of sin and lack of praise.
Praise that lifts Him on high and summons an army of angels tenfold greater than the forces we face. Surely if we want to do battle in the field of our minds, it is necessary to have Him on our side. And yet so often we are afraid.
Afraid of what complete surrender would look like. Pits of sin abandoned in acts of prayerful defiance against a system of self-righteousness that has failed us over and over again.
Unshackled by praise we must rise and defend what is rightfully ours. The right to freedom and new found joy wrapped tightly in the arms of Jesus. Even the most tightly held captive can find freedom in the exaltation of His glorious name.
And yet how does freedom singing reclaim water in a desert? How do we move from our own indecencies and beds of anxious sorrow to a place of all praise? It’s a journey thats very beginning asks us to abandon ourselves.
And yet the battle must begin by winning independence from ourselves and depending upon the faithful hand of God. The lifted praise extended higher than my right hand on its own power could lift me. Lifted high to my King of Kings.
We can find the way home as bondage burdens are lifted amidst gracious praise. Songs lifted in seasons of captivity that end in broken chains. Oh the joy when we have abandoned ourselves and sing out of His glory and fame rather than our own dirges echoing loudly in the minds grave. Freedoms gates opened with the simplicity of a song found on a treetop in the last glimmers of day.