Explore the Christian Natural Health Podcast

Today's podcast comes from this blog post: The Dark Side of Statins.

Today's meditation and retelling is from Acts 16:16-40.Introduction:

I always thought it strange that this demon-possessed girl announced the truth of Paul and Silas's message, and yet the disciples found this troublesome. Why would a demon endorse their message, and if it did, why would that be a bad thing? There must be something we're missing. Perhaps this gave the distinct impression to listeners that Paul and Silas were in cahoots with the demons. Jesus was accused of this very thing, too (Luke 11:15).

Also, if this demon-possessed girl bothered Paul (whatever the reason), why did it take him "many days" to cast the demon out? Why didn't he do so at once? We're not told what was going on that would have hindered this solution, so we can only speculate. Andrew Wommack's interpretation is that perhaps the girl had no desire to be free of the demon. If that were the case, as Jesus said, casting out one demon without replacing it with a new Spirit might leave her with more demons than she started with in the end (Matthew 12:44). As a naturopathic doctor, I think of this as similar to a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics. They might wipe out the pathogen, but if you don't repopulate with good bacteria to defend the territory against subsequent attacks, opportunistic organisms may invade instead. The end state of that patient's digestion and health generally can then be worse than it was to begin with. Perhaps Paul and Silas waited to see if the girl might give any indication that she wanted deliverance. But after many days of her presumably hindering their message and preventing others from coming to the Lord, they'd had enough.

Unfortunately, the girl turned out to be a valuable slave, because of the demon. In their anger, her owners dragged Paul and Silas before the magistrates of the city. I'm not sure why Paul didn't tell the magistrates that they were Roman citizens then, since apparently that would have changed everything. Perhaps God told them to keep their mouths shut about that for the time being, though it seems like if that were the case, it would have been recorded. Also, while the apostles were certainly persecuted in many cases for their faith, I can't think of a time in scripture when God explicitly told them to submit to persecution because He intended to use it for the greater good, even though He always did so. God taking evil and turning it for good certainly isn't the same thing as God causing evil and turning it for good. Later in Paul's life, God specifically tried to lead him away from Jerusalem, apparently to spare him persecution (Acts 21:4-11). It therefore seems more likely to me that in the ensuing brouhaha, Paul just couldn't get a word in edgewise.

I love how God redeemed this miserable story, though. Beaten, bloody, in stocks so they couldn't even move, and now thrown into prison, Paul and Silas surely didn't feel like singing. Yet they offered a sacrifice of praise, anyway (Hebrews 13:15). This time, God didn't send an angel, but an earthquake. He needed to make sure the jailer was awake to see Paul and Silas's deliverance. As a result, rather than committing suicide (since the jailer knew that if all the prisoners escaped on his watch, he would be killed for his negligence), he and all his family were saved. Not only that, but the Roman law protected Roman citizens from being punished without a trial (Acts 22:25-29). When the magistrates learned they had thus treated Roman citizens, they were afraid, for their positions and possibly even for their lives. Naturally, word of the scandal would spread—"Did you hear what the magistrates of Philippi did to two Roman citizens? Yes, and without trial!" The next question of course would be, "What did the men do to deserve such treatment?" And so the gospel might spread even farther than it might have otherwise. Also, magistrates in other cities would be careful not to repeat the offense, protecting Paul and Silas from similar treatment in the future. The story might even have protected other believers from harassment too, as they preached; surely no other magistrates would be in a hurry to repeat the Philippian mistake.

Fictionalized Retelling:

I felt a sinister presence right away, at the edge of our meeting in Philippi. One minute, it felt like I had the crowd's full attention, like they were hanging on my every word. The Holy Spirit was almost palpable. I brimmed with anticipation, eager for the awesome display of the Lord's power that was sure to follow. But then suddenly, the energy of the group shifted, and soured. I didn't miss a beat, and continued speaking, but I scanned the crowd for the source of the disturbance. My eyes landed on the girl at once.

She was dark-skinned, her wrists spangled with bracelets and her head and waist with colorful scarves. These told me her profession at a glance: she was a diviner. All diviners were either demon-possessed or charlatans, so I wasn't too surprised to note the sneer and hollow expression she wore. Demons I could deal with. The problem was the effect she was having upon the crowd.

As I continued preaching, I saw the girl whispering to those around her, though her vacant eyes remained locked upon me. Sometimes the demon-possessed retained some control of their own bodies, but not this girl. She had surrendered herself to it totally. I couldn't hear what she said to the listeners around them, but the effect was like a bucket of cold water upon the Holy Spirit's flame. People began to wander away, before I had even finished. All my hopes for the great outpouring of the Spirit that night evaporated. Finally, I dismissed what remained of my listeners at dusk, urging them to return to hear me speak again the next morning. I caught the girl's smirk of satisfaction as she wandered away, too.

When we were alone again, I turned to Silas in frustration and threw up my hands. "What happened?" I demanded. "Did you feel it too? That shift?"

The younger man nodded, grim-faced. "You saw her?"

"Yes! What was she saying to them? Could you hear?"

Silas nodded again. "It was always some variation of, 'These men are servants of the Great High God, and they're telling us how to be saved!'"

I let out a grunt of disgust. The words were true, of course, but the effect of the words were proof enough that, coming from her, it would have the opposite effect. There were those who already spread rumors that we performed signs and wonders through the power of the demonic. The diviner girl's apparent endorsement must have convinced at least some of them that the spirit by whom she operated and the Spirit through Whom I did were one and the same.

"Maybe she won't come back tomorrow," Silas soothed, but I turned a deadpan expression upon him. He gave me a bashful smile and shrugged. "Just being optimistic." He knew as well as I did that if Satan discovered his tactic had worked to hinder the gospel, he would assuredly double down on it.

I huffed. "Let's just pray that, if the girl herself is still reachable, she'll give some indication of it tomorrow," I murmured to my protege as I walked into town, toward the house where we were staying for the night. "Then we can cast it out, and turn her distraction to our advantage."

"We might have to cast it out anyway, whether she wants us to or not," Silas returned, falling into step beside me.

"I know, but it'll be worse for her if we do it without her consent."

"Why?" Silas frowned.

"Remember the Lord's teaching on this? He said, 'when a demon is cast out of a person, it goes to wander in a waterless realm, searching for rest. But finding no place to rest, it says, 'I will go back and reoccupy the body I left.' When it returns, it finds the person like a house swept clean and made tidy, but empty. Then it goes and enlists seven demons more evil than itself, and they all enter and possess the person, leaving that one in a much worse state than before.'" I told Silas, "If I cast it out, I want to be able to replace it with the Holy Spirit, for her sake. If I can't do that…"

"Ah, I see," Silas bit his lip, and then looked up to heaven. "Lift the confusion and the oppression off of that girl, Lord! Long enough for her to hear that she has a choice, to hear that she can be set free!"

I agreed with Silas in prayer, both of us alternately speaking in English and groaning in tongues as we interceded for the girl all the way to our house for the evening.

But alas, the next day was no different—nor the next, nor the next. The girl turned up every day that we preached, souring the crowd against us and growing increasingly bold. "These men are the servants of the Most High God!" she began to shout over us. "They are proclaiming the way of salvation!" Many would-be listeners seemed to be scared off by her expostulations. Finally after nearly a week of hindrance, I approached the girl, standing right before her, peering into her eyes. I willed her to show me some indication that she was still in there, and that she wanted deliverance—but alas, she was only a shell. Still, I couldn't let this go on.

"I command you in the name of Jesus, the Anointed One, to come out of her, now!"

At first, the girl's vacant expression did not change. I turned my back on her and, unhindered, proceeded to preach again to the small crowd gathered. I had to break off, though, because their attention was arrested by the spectacle behind me. Exasperated, I turned to see what had distracted them, expecting the usual foaming and writhing of a demon fighting his eviction.

I saw this, but I also saw a pair of well-dressed, burly men at the girl's side. I suddenly understood for certain what I had only suspected before: she was a slave, and she probably made these masters of hers a great deal of money with her divinations. The girl shrieked, and then went still. I knew she wasn't dead, having been through this plenty of times before, but her masters behaved as though I had killed her.

"You!" they spat, pointing at Silas and me.

My mouth fell open, which was about all the time I had for protest. In moments, the two swarthy men had each chosen a target—one falling upon Silas and the other upon me. When my huge captor got close enough, he wrapped one hand all the way around my skinny upper arm and proceeded to drag me toward the central marketplace of Philippi.

"Don't struggle!" I called to Silas, behind us.

Silas let out a short laugh, which I understood to mean, As if I could!

I tripped a few times as my captor dragged me inexorably along, at his own pace rather than mine. Moments later, we found ourselves before the city magistrates, on our knees.

"These Jews are troublemakers!" Silas's captor announced. "They're throwing our city into confusion. They're pushing their Jewish religion down our throats. It's wrong and unlawful for them to promote these Jewish ways, for we are Romans living in a Roman colony!"

This announcement was met with an uproar, from both the magistrates themselves and from the surrounding mob—always ready to be whipped into an emotional frenzy, whatever the cause. I considered retorting that the two men who seized us were really upset that they had lost their source of income from the demon-possessed girl, but it was clear it wouldn't matter. The emotional pitch was too high. The magistrates, feeding off the energy of the crowd, tore their clothes and cried out that Silas and I were to be beaten with rods. Silas caught my eye, looking briefly terrified.

In minutes, both of us were stripped to the waist, tied to a pole, and on our knees, while bloodthirsty soldiers relished laying stripes into our backs. The dull thud of the rod against Silas's flesh and my own made me groan in rhythm with it. Then, some part of my consciousness detached as protection from the pain. I made a song of it. It was, in a bizarre sense, almost meditative. I was with the Lord, looking down at our suffering bodies, bemused. I wondered if this was how we would die.

And then it was over. I scarcely heard the crowd anymore, a dull roar in my own ears. All I saw were the paving stones, slick with my sweat and blood. The tunic was replaced upon my raw flesh. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I winced in anticipation of the moment when I would have to remove it again. I decided that when the time came, I would try to soak the tunic in water so that it would not stick to my wounds when I peeled it off.

These thoughts distracted me sufficiently that I was surprised to find myself on my feet, walking somewhere with an escort. It was bright, and then it was dim, dank, and chilly. We were forced into a cell, and then to our knees. Something wooden slammed across my ankles, hands and neck. Stocks, I realized. Silas received the same treatment beside me, I saw as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. The roar began to fade from my ears, too, and with it, I felt the sting and throb of my wounds begin to return. I could make out the cadence of taunts from our captors, but not their substance. Then the door slammed shut. Silas and I were alone again.

We were silent for some time, probably both regaining our senses after the physical shock.

I was so grateful for shock, I thought. How kind of the Lord, to build in that mechanism to the human body, so that the nerves could not be overloaded with too much pain at once. I hadn't really felt the pain except at the very beginning, and as it crept back to me now.

"You okay?" I croaked to my companion at last.

Silas groaned in response.

Over the subsequent hours, the pain returned in dribs and drabs, but never all at once. I felt the ache of my stiff, restless limbs, the throb and occasionally the sting of my wounds. I drowsed a few times, but then the discomfort of my position awakened me. I glanced over at the keeper of the prison, whose silhouette I could just make out from where I sat. I could tell the man had fallen asleep from his akimbo position, and his jaw that hung agape. Every now and then he let out a snore.

Eventually Silas said, "So. That could have gone better."

I started to laugh, but winced from the pain of it. "The Lord has us here for a reason," I managed.

Silas snorted. "You think so, huh? We're gonna do great things, all by ourselves down here, preaching to the rats?"

I didn't bother to rebuke him. Less than a minute later, he sighed, having apparently rebuked himself.

"I'm sorry," Silas murmured. "You're right. Of course the Lord has a purpose. He will take what the enemy meant for evil, and turn it for good."

"Let's praise Him for it," I said with determination, and began to sing softly, "Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth! Sing out the honor of His name; make His praise glorious."

Silas, recognizing the psalm, joined in, "Say to God, 'How awesome are Your works! Through the greatness of Your power Your enemies shall submit themselves to You."

"Yes!" I agreed, louder than I meant to. I heard slight creaks and groans from other cells adjacent to ours, and suspected we had roused an audience now. The jailer was still asleep, though. I continued, terribly off-key, "All the earth shall worship You and sing praises to You; they shall sing praises to Your name!"

We finished one psalm and went on to the next, and as we did so I felt my spirits lift. I knew Silas's did too. I also felt a sense of anticipation that I could not explain. Neither of us could sing a lick, but our discordant voices blended in joyful noise and occasionally dissolved into laughter. I could see a few of the eager faces of our audience of fellow prisoners though our bars, cast in shadow.

"Keep singing, boys," said one hoary prisoner, his voice scratchy with disuse. "You're doing it!"

"Doing what?" asked his cell mate.

"I dunno," said the old timer, "but they're doing something. Can't you feel it?"

I certainly could. I responded with, "The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord! He is their strength in the time of trouble."

"And the Lord shall help them and deliver them!" Silas belted as loud as he could. "He shall deliver them from the wicked, and save them, because they trust in Him—"

"Shh!" I hissed. I thought I'd heard a rumble, and wasn't sure what it was. A second later, the rumble grew much louder, and the ground beneath us trembled violently.

"Is that—an earthquake?" Silas now had to shout over the din.

As if in response to his question, our stocks—which were locked—rattled open. So did our cell door.

So did everyone else's!

"Ha ha!" Silas cried, and then moaned with relief as he straightened and gave his angry limbs a decadent stretch. "Thank You, Lord!" he cried out.

I too straightened, stretched, and couldn't help groaning as my stiff limbs began to move. All around us, I heard the other astonished prisoners doing the same.

"Psst!" hissed one of the other prisoners. "This was your doing, preachers! Where should we go now?"

I glanced at the keeper of the prison, who had startled awake and let out a cry when he saw that all of the cell doors stood ajar. He swore as he scrambled to his feet, and drew his sword. I watched him with alarm, thinking that he intended to attack us, until he turned it upon himself.

"Stop!" I shouted.

I so startled the man that his sword clattered to the ground, and he uttered another cry, as if I were a ghost. I realized that the jailer had seen the open cells, assumed we had all fled, and that he would be executed for failing in his duties.

"Don't do that!" I told him, holding up my stiff hand. "We're all still here! Nobody's run away!"

I could still see only the man's silhouette. He turned to shout to jailer who was out of sight.

"Bring me a torch!" he cried.

In a few minutes our jailer bore a lantern, held it aloft, and saw that indeed, all of the prisoners were still within, though none of us were chained or barred. He re-secured all of the other cells once more, though he did not lock any of the rest of the prisoners back in their stocks. When he got to ours, I expected him to seal our bars as well, and go back to sleep. But when he got close enough, his expression crumpled, and the lantern shook with his trembling. He came into our cell, falling on his knees before us.

"Sirs, what do I have to do to be saved?" he begged.

Silas beamed at me, and I nodded at him to go ahead. He told the jailer, "Put your entire trust in the Master Jesus. Then you'll live as you were meant to live—and everyone in your house included!"

The jailer wiped his eyes as he stood to his feet, though I hadn't noticed that he had been crying before. "Come," he told us. "Tell my household yourselves!" He turned and whistled for the other jailer who had stood in the shadows watching all of this, the one who had presumably brought him the lantern. The other jailer watched us, wide-eyed, as we walked out of our cell behind our original captor.

"I am Jerome," he introduced himself. "My wife is Sophia, and our daughters are Alexandra and Katye."

We did not have far to go, as Jerome and his family lived right by the prison. He called out in a loud voice to rouse his wife and daughters when we entered. The girls were young teens, and they seemed irritable to have been so awakened. Apparently the earthquake had been quite localized, and not even extended so far as to his home. His wife looked alarmed, looking at Silas and me.

"Who are these men, Jerome?" she asked in a low voice, not taking her eyes off of us. "They certainly look like the men who were beaten in the square today—"

"They are, but just wait until you hear—!" He tripped over his own tongue trying to tell his wife and daughters what had happened in the prison, though he got it all out of order and seemed to forget basic words in the process. At last, Silas and I helped him fill in the details.

"It was a miracle!" Jerome concluded, throwing his hands up. "These men are from God, and they are here to tell us how to be saved! But quickly, we must first attend to their wounds and their bellies. Alexandra, Katye, draw some water, lather some soap, and bring some salve if we have some. I will tend their stripes myself. Then help your mother prepare these men something to eat."

"Oh, praise the Lord!" Silas uttered as Jerome bathed and applied salve to the raw flesh of his back. When it was my turn, I hissed from the sting but also let out a few involuntary praises as he dressed my wounds. He washed our bloody tunics in the soapy water afterwards and gave each of us a fresh tunic while ours dried. Around the third watch of the night, Sophia and the girls set a meal before us of bread and cold meat. My stomach growled when I saw it, but I knew we must put the Lord's priorities first. The meal was a cold one anyway; it could wait.

So Silas and I took turns telling Jerome and his family about the Lord. We told them about Jesus, His death and resurrection, and about the Holy Spirit He sent at Pentecost. We invited them to be baptized. Jerome agreed eagerly, though the only water they had on hand was now dirty with soap and blood and dirt. Jerome declared that he didn't mind a bit, but Alexandra and Katye did. They dumped the previous basin and drew fresh water, assembled dry clothing for the family to change into afterwards, and then Silas and I took turns baptizing all four of them. As we did so, the Holy Spirit fell upon each of them. Alexandra, the most demonstrative of the family, babbled with tongues while laughing and crying. The others held back, but we could see that their faces were radiant with joy. Both teenaged girls shrieked with combined shivers and giddiness, and ran back into the house to change into dry clothing.

And then, what a meal we shared! I could hardly remember when one had tasted so good, seasoned with hunger and enjoyed with the love of new brothers and sisters.

"I only regret that I have to bring you back to the prison now," Jerome cast Silas and me an apologetic look. "I know you've done nothing but the Lord's work, and the magistrates only agreed to punish you because you cast a demon out of a valuable slave, and the owners wanted you to pay for it. But still, if I don't return you to your cells, they'll kill me—"

"We know," Silas held up a conciliatory hand. "And the magistrates also know we did nothing wrong. They can't hold us forever."

It was just before dawn when we followed Jerome back to prison. He pleaded with his eyes for us to forgive him as he locked us in once more. We nodded to him and smiled that we understood.

Silas and I had just finally drifted off to sleep the following morning when the rattle of our cell door jolted us awake.

"The magistrates sent word that you're free to go on your way!" Jerome gasped, beaming at us. "Congratulations! Go in peace!"

Silas began to climb to his feet, but I held up a hand to him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, frowning. "We are Roman citizens in good standing, yet they beat us up in public and threw us in jail. And now they want to get us out of the way on the sly without anyone knowing? No indeed! If they want us out of here, let them come themselves and lead us out in broad daylight."

Jerome gaped from Silas to me. "You're—Roman citizens?" he echoed. "Why didn't you say so before?"

Before I could answer, the jailer hurried from our cell, leaving the door wide open. He ran outside, presumably to relay this astounding piece of information to the magistrates.

"Why didn't we think to say that earlier?" Silas asked me, smacking his forehead.

I shrugged. "Honestly everything was so chaotic at the time that it didn't occur to me. But I think that the Lord wanted us to meet Jerome and his family anyway."

"And us!" wheezed the old-timer in the cell beside ours. He grinned through the bars, revealing several missing teeth. "Your singing was so terrible it made the earth quake!"

Everyone laughed at this, just as we heard a commotion coming down the stairs. The magistrates followed Jerome, who could barely contain his smug grin. The magistrates themselves were white-faced and flustered.

"You are—Roman citizens?" one cried.

"You should have said—"

"We had no idea! Please, forgive us—!"

They tripped over one another in their efforts to apologize and beg our forgiveness, and plead with us to leave the city so that the whole affair might be quickly forgotten. Heads held high, we followed the magistrates out in broad daylight, waving goodbye to our fellow prisoners as we went. Jerome did not want to appear overly friendly with us, but his eyes twinkled at us warmly, and we nodded at him before we departed.

"What do you think?" Silas whispered to me as we walked away. "Should we leave the city, as they asked?"

"Soon," I told him with a sly smirk. "But not just yet. Best not to let the magistrates breathe too easy."

This week's podcast comes from this blog post on Spotlight On: Chamomile.

Chamomile flowers are in the daisy family, also known as asteraceae or compositae. Compounds beneficial to health are many and varied, and it is generally recognized as safe for consumption with few contraindications.

Chamomile is probably best known as an herbal tea, with over one million cups consumed per day, though there are other ways to access its health benefits as well. Which benefits you're after may influence the form of chamomile you choose to use medicinally.

Chamomile for Digestion and Menstrual Cramping

A carminative herb used to calm digestive upset, chamomile is known for the anti-spasmodic effects of the bioflavonoids apigenin, quercetin, and luteolin. These compounds also decrease inflammatory prostaglandin release (the same mechanism of action of NSAIDs), and extract well into water, making them easily absorbable from tea.

Anti-inflammatory effects are found in the essential oil components (called chamazulene and α-bisabolol) which don't extract as well into tea. Bisabolol also helps to prevent and treat stomach ulcers by decreasing pepsin production without affecting HCl production. These constituents are best absorbed via capsule or tincture.

Anti-spasmodic and anti-inflammatory effects of course are both useful for menstrual cramping and pain, too.

Chamomile for Anxiety, Depression, and Insomnia

Chamomile tea is one of my favorites for a nightly "wind-down" routine before bedtime, helping to calm the mind and acting as a gentle sedative. This may be due to the plant's water-soluble glycine content, a calming amino acid which assists the body with getting into deeper stages of sleep. Chamomile has indeed been shown to improve sleep quality.

Because of this gentle calming effect, chamomile has been shown to even significantly reduce moderate to severe generalized anxiety disorder symptoms, and to assist with depression when it is comorbid with anxiety disorder as well.

Chamomile for Infection, Wound Healing, and Skin Care

Topically, chamomile's antioxidant polyphenols can assist with wound healing and restoration of a breached skin barrier. Since polyphenols extract well into water, a compress soaked in strong chamomile tea and applied to, say, a sunburn, may assist with quicker healing.

A similar compress, or even a wet tea bag, can be used on skin lesions such as acne, styes, or eczema; this is because in addition to antioxidant and anti-inflammatory properties, chamomile is also antimicrobial. Since a breached skin barrier often leads to opportunistic infection by normal skin flora, topical chamomile may assist the healing process in multiple ways. The essential oil has been studied for its antihistamine purposes for atopic lesions as well (see below).

Chamomile's antioxidant properties have also been utilized topically for reduction of fine lines and wrinkles.

Chamomile for Allergies

There is evidence that chamomile stabilizes mast cells, thus decreasing release of histamine for those who suffer from allergies, those with histamine intolerance, and as an adjunctive treatment for those with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome or Disorder. These effects were observed from the alcohol tincture extract form.

The Upshot

Chamomile tea is consumed worldwide in large quantities for a reason, though it's helpful to know which effects you're after to help choose the most appropriate extraction method.

Bioflavinoids apigenin and quercetin are water soluble, which means they will easily be extracted into a tea. These are helpful for anti-spasmodic, anti-inflammatory, anti-anxiety, antioxidant, and sedative properties.

Essential oil components chamazulene and bisabolol do not extract as well in water. These are better consumed either in powder or capsules made from the whole dried flowers, an alcohol extract, or using the essential oil itself (diffused or topically). These have been observed to protect against ulcers, and to stabilize mast cells.

While chamomile is generally recognized as safe, some recommend caution with consumption of chamomile in high doses during the first trimester of pregnancy.

If you're consuming chamomile as a tea, but still wish to reap some of the benefits of the essential oils, the better choice is whole leaf tea, which you can get by purchasing the whole dried flowers. Dosing is 1-2 tsp of flowers per 8 oz, and allow to steep for 15 minutes before straining. Prepackaged tea bags should still be high in polyphenol content, but the pulverized flowers means more of the essential oils will have evaporated.

It's amazing to me how involved angels seemed to be in the early church. This is at least the third time Peter has encountered one: the first was after Jesus' ascension (since the story in John of Peter at Jesus' empty tomb didn't indicate that he encountered the angels there). The second time was when an angel had helped Peter to escape prison once before, in Acts 5. Historians date that escape in the same year as Pentecost. Given that, I'm not sure why Peter was so surprised to find himself delivered this time, though it was estimated to be about twelve years later. Perhaps it wasn't the deliverance that surprised him necessarily, but simply the fact that he felt he was having a vision. Maybe there was a dreamlike quality to this encounter because it was in the middle of the night. Still, though, James the brother of John, one of Jesus' core three disciples, had just been martyred publicly by the sword, to the delight of the Jewish mob (Acts 12:1-3). It certainly looked like Peter might die the next morning, too, and Jesus himself told the disciples that they could not expect to escape persecution (Matthew 24:9, Mark 10:30). Despite all this, Peter slept so peacefully that the angel had to strike him to wake him up. Either he was not bothered by the prospect of death, or perhaps he expected that he would escape somehow, given Jesus' prophecy that he would not be martyred until he was an old man (John 21:18).

Since the story mentions that the church was praying for Peter constantly (Acts 12:5), perhaps it was their prayers that dispatched the angel to free him. We're not told the exact cause and effect, though this seems to be the implication—even though they, too, were pretty shocked to see him when he showed up (Acts 12:14-16).

This Mary was mother of John Mark, who wasn't one of Jesus' original apostles, but instead was Barnabas's cousin (Colossians 4:10). Barnabas and John Mark both traveled with Saul, later called Paul (Acts 12:25). At this point, Saul and Barnabas were in town (Acts 11:30), and since Mary was Barnabas's relative, it's possible they were staying with Mary when Peter showed up. Saul's conversion was estimated to be not quite a decade before this, though it would be around another six years before he went on his first missionary journey—so I wonder if the other believers were still getting used to him. Neither Barnabas nor Saul are mentioned in the story, though.

Why in the world did the believers in Mary's home suppose it was more likely that it was Peter's angel at the door (presumably his guardian angel, as mentioned in Matthew 18:10) than Peter himself? Were their encounters with angels in the early church really so common as that? Perhaps… an angel again appeared at the end of the chapter, to strike down Herod for his arrogance (Acts 12:23), which presumably meant Peter could return to the city freely. Later, an angel also appeared to Paul during the tempest at sea (Acts 27:24), and the writer of Hebrews mentions that sometimes we can entertain angels without knowing it (Hebrews 13:2). At least the early church didn't consider encounters with angels nearly so unusual as we might today.

Fictionalized Retelling:

"Seize him!"

Herod's soldiers surrounded me even as I was in the middle of my sermon to the assembly of the Jews before the Temple. I had no hope of escape.

My listeners scattered, and I turned a resigned expression upon my captors. Even as they shackled my wrists and led me away, I marveled somewhere in the back of my mind at how much had changed, in how short a period of time. These were the days of Unleavened Bread, leading up to the twelfth Passover since Jesus had been crucified.

Nearly twelve years ago, I had denied Him. I'd feared for my own life, that I might share his fate. Now, even though my brother in the Lord, James, had been publicly executed by Herod only days before, a fate Herod surely intended for me to share, I was—incredibly—unafraid.

The difference was the Holy Spirit, I knew. I was a new man now.

At the same time, I also knew that my time to die had not yet come. Jesus Himself had told me before His ascension that I would indeed one day die a martyr, but not until I was an old man. Bizarrely enough, I'd been incredibly comforted by this—not because it meant I would live to old age, but because it meant I would not fail Him again. The second time, I would pass the test.

At any rate, though, I didn't think early forties counted as "old."

"We're taking no chances with this one!" one of the officers who had arrested me barked at the soldiers standing guard at the prison. "Chain him between you this time!"

Two of the soldiers indeed moved forward, unshackling my wrists just long enough to chain me to themselves.

"When I have to relieve myself, this will be awkward," I quipped, but nobody smiled.

I counted four squads, or sixteen soldiers, all of whom appeared to be assigned to just me. I decided not to comment. An angel of the Lord had delivered me from prison twelve years ago, shortly after Pentecost, and Herod didn't want to chance that it would happen again.

As if more soldiers would make a difference.

Not that I knew whether the Lord intended to deliver me the same way again; perhaps I'd be imprisoned for years this time. All I knew was, if that happened, He would ultimately use it for good.

The next several days were quite miserable in the dank prison, with stale air and food, not enough water, no exercise, and no mobility of even my own limbs. I reminded myself that the soldiers chained to me had to be just as uncomfortable as I was, except that they took turns and could escape after their shifts were completed. Whenever I felt my spirit sink, or saw flashbacks in my mind's eye of James as he fell by Herod's sword, I started to sing to the Lord. This first annoyed, then enraged my captors. They struck me with their elbows in my stomach, which was the easiest part of me they could reach, commanding me to shut up. When I regained my breath after each blow, I told them stories of my time with Jesus—the good news of the gospel, of course, as well as some of the miracles I'd both witnessed and performed in His name. When blows failed to shut me up, the soldiers resorted to taunts and threats.

"You remember your buddy, how Herod gutted him before the people? That'll be you in a few days, fisherman!"

I shrugged and told them, "I'm sure that's what Herod intends," and resumed my story of Jesus feeding the five thousand men, plus women and children.

"Intends?" one of them interrupted me. "Herod gets what Herod wants!"

I kept talking over him, nonplussed, describing now the twelve baskets we had left over.

Another of the soldiers, weary of striking me without effect, talked over my story and described in explicit detail how Herod might choose to have me executed tomorrow. Unable to completely tune out his words, I stopped talking, and instead went back to singing hymns to the Lord. The soldier trailed off in his vivid, violent descriptions with a shout of frustration.

"This is torture for us, not for him!" he cried out.

I looked at the soldier, past the angry mask he wore, and smiled. "The Lord loves you, too, you know." One of the others scoffed and sneered, but the one I addressed ignored me entirely. "Don't you want the same hope I have?"

"Don't I want to be brutally murdered before the cheers of thousands of my own people, you mean?" he spat back at me. "Just like your Jesus was?"

"He was, yes," I agreed, "but death could not hold Him, and He is still alive today. He pleads with you, through me, to accept what He did for you."

"Stop arguing with him, Tobias," muttered one of the other soldiers. "You're just encouraging him."

Tobias grumbled something unintelligible but said nothing more. For my part, I settled back into humming soft hymns to the Lord as day sank into twilight at the end of Passover—the last day of my life, if Herod had his way. I could not help but rejoice, as I remembered the depth of my despair this time twelve years ago, and how far the Lord had brought me since then. With this sweet thought, I drifted off to peaceful sleep.

"Oof!" I woke abruptly, as someone struck me in the side.

"Hurry!"

I blinked up into the radiant face hovering above me, backlit as if by the sun even though it was the middle of the night. I'd met enough angels by now to know one when I saw him. I obeyed at once, but when my wrists passed right through the shackles that still bound them to the soldiers sleeping on either side of me, I decided this must be a vision only, or possibly a dream.

"Get dressed. Put on your shoes," the angel ordered. I did as I was bid, rather dreamily. Then the angel commanded, "Grab your coat and let's get out of here!" I did so. Then I followed the angel, passing right through the bars of the cell and directly in front of the first squad, and then the second, standing watch outside the prison. They never saw us.

When we arrived at the iron gate into the city, it swung open on its own. I smiled, feeling like I almost floated as I followed the angel through the gate and into the city.

Then the angel vanished. I blinked, and turned around, thinking he must be behind me.

Suddenly I realized that I was wide awake, and still on the other side of the iron gate, now inside the city limits.

"I can't believe it—this really happened!" I laughed aloud. "The Lord sent his angel and rescued me from Herod, and the spectacle the mob was looking forward to!" I ran into the city without stopping to consciously consider where I was going until I realized I was headed to Mary's house, John Mark's mother and Barnabas's aunt. All of the believers met at her house regularly, so it was probably my best chance at finding several of them together—even though it was still the middle of the night.

When I came to the outer gate of Mary's home, I knocked at the door within it, feeling elated by my sudden freedom, and excited to surprise whoever I might find inside. I waited for some time, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and wondering if they were all asleep and if I should knock louder. Then I heard a pair of footsteps on the other side of the gate, quick and light. Rhoda, the servant girl, I knew at once. She too had become a believer through her mistress, and often joined our prayer meetings.

"Rhoda!" I called to her softly through the gate. "Is that you?"

I heard her gasp. "Peter?"

I laughed softly. "Yes, it's me!" But I stopped laughing in confusion when I heard the light, quick footsteps running away again, and back into the house. "Okay then," I murmured, and knocked again.

It took several more minutes before I heard footsteps returning. There were more than just Rhoda this time.

"It's Peter, I tell you!" I heard her insist to whoever came with her.

"Maybe it's his angel," said a voice I recognized as John Mark's, doubtfully.

The door opened then, to reveal an astonished John Mark, with Mary and Rhoda behind him, along with Barnabas and Saul. All of them spoke at once.

"Peter! How—"

"—we thought, after James—!"

"—after your first escape, Herod would take no chances—"

"—what are you doing here? Aren't they looking for you?"

I held up my hands against all their questions, laughing. "Hush, and I'll tell you!" I hugged each of them first, though I hesitated just for a split second before I hugged Saul. He did the same. It wasn't so very long ago that he was one of the most zealous in persecuting the church. I'd forgiven him of course, as we all had, but I hadn't quite gotten used to seeing him at our prayer meetings. He probably hesitated because he sensed that I did. Rhoda, meanwhile, jumped up and down a little in excitement as I released her.

Then, still standing at the gate because no one had thought to invite me inside, I told them how the angel had appeared to me and released me.

"We have been praying for that non-stop ever since you were arrested," Mary confessed.

Her son laughed and said, "Yes, but evidently we didn't believe it would happen! Shame on us."

Mary finally thought to invite me inside after I'd finished my story, but I shook my head. "I don't want to implicate any of you in my escape. Herod will be livid; I'm sure he was looking forward to appeasing the Jews with my death. Just make sure you tell James, the Lord's brother, and the rest of the brothers that I escaped, and I'm all right."

They agreed that they would do so, and I turned to go, though I wasn't yet sure where. I needed to be far away from Judea for awhile, that was certain. I had presumably at least a few hours before the soldiers would rouse and discover my flight. I winced for them, knowing that Herod would order their deaths in my place. But there was nothing I could do about that.

"I pray that some of them heard me, and receive You before the end, Lord," I whispered to the night air.

Wishing the angel had told me what to do next, I decided to go down to Caesarea, hoping Herod's search for me wouldn't extend that far. How long should I stay in hiding? I wondered. I wanted to continue to preach the gospel, not hide in someone's spare room. All I could do was pray that I would know when it was time to speak freely again, that the Lord would make it plain to me.

"And thank you," I finally remembered to add, smiling up at the stars. While I was glad that I had faced the prospect of death without shrinking back this time, I was also grateful that my work here was not yet done.

Dr. Chacko is the new author of Amazon best seller Pilgrimage: A Doctor's Healing Journey. She practiced medicine for decades, first as a radiation oncologist and later as a family medicine doctor, caring for the poor in Washington, DC. Now Donna works in the ministry she founded, Serenity and Health, to promote health of body, mind, and spirit.

Dr. Chacko will send Three Keys to A Holy, Happy and Healthy Life to listeners of the podcast when they sign up for her newsletter and blog.To learn more or to purchase Pilgrimage, go to https://www.serenityandhealth.com/pilgrimage .

I've known the story of Daniel and the lion's den since I was a kid in Sunday School classes, but I never really considered before what Daniel was thinking at the time. As I wrote some of these retellings, it was obvious that the heroes were actually terrified and full of doubts, like Gideon. Samson wasn't at all fearful, but he'd placed his confidence in himself, rather than in God. It was only very rare individuals that seemed to be completely confident in the Lord. David and Jonathan clearly had this mentality, because the things they said to those around them just before their exploits revealed their thoughts. With Daniel, it's not quite so clear, until you put this event in chronological context with the rest of the book of Daniel.

The first half of the book of Daniel is historical, telling events that transpired during Daniel's lifetime as the kingdom changed rulership. The second half, from chapter 7 through 12, is prophetic, in which Daniel is treated to a series of profound visions which encompass the "silent" years of the Old Testament through the coming of Christ, and then apocalyptic visions that harmonize with John's account in Revelation. We're told in Daniel 5:31 and 6:1 that this episode of the lion's den occurred during the reign of King Darius, and historians say he only reigned for two years. We also know from Daniel 9:2 that Darius was king during the time that Daniel received his famous seventy weeks prophecy, so these two events must have occurred relatively close to one another in time. In the seventy weeks prophecy, Gabriel appeared and helped Daniel to understand that while Jeremiah's prediction of seventy years of captivity (Jeremiah 25:11-12) was nearly over for Israel, there was a deeper meaning for the seventy years as well. There would also be seventy weeks of years, or 490 years, from the time of the rebuilding of Jerusalem, until the end of the age. It would be sixty-nine weeks of years from the rebuilding of Jerusalem until the Messiah would come (and according to "The Coming Prince" by Sir Robert Anderson, from the time Nehemiah was sent to rebuild the walls of the city, sixty-nine weeks of years, where a year in the calendar of the day was 360 days, would work out to 173,880 days. This is to the day when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey on Palm Sunday, proclaiming himself to be king, Luke 19:28-44.) That last week of years, or the last seven years, will be the end of the age—and the rest of Daniel's seventy weeks prophecy describes the antichrist, the covenant with Israel that begins those seven years, and the abomination of desolation 3.5 years in, which will initiate the last 3.5 years of tribulation. Daniel's prophecy here doesn't indicate that there is a gap between the 69th and the 70th week, though some scholars believe that was because there didn't have to be a gap: had the Jews accepted Jesus as Messiah when he rode in on Palm Sunday, the first and the second coming might have been one and the same. This might have been why Jesus wept as he rode into town (Luke 19:41-44). As it was, there is a pause in Daniel's timeline "until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in" (Romans 11:25).

In my retelling, therefore, I imagined how full Daniel's mind must have been with such wonderful revelations. He'd seen and spoken with God's messenger, not once, but twice (Gabriel also came to him in Daniel 8:16). He'd been in captivity nearly all his life, and now in his eighties, he realized that the time drew near for his people to return to Jerusalem. His prayer in Daniel 9:4-19 is so impassioned, one can almost picture him weeping as he contends for their release. Gabriel told him that he was greatly beloved (Daniel 9:23), and told him that not only did the time draw near for his people's release, but also showed him God's entire plan for history.

Meanwhile, Darius wanted to promote Daniel because, like Pharaoh had said of Joseph, he had the spirit of God's wisdom upon him (Daniel 6:3). As King Solomon wrote, a man who excels in his work will stand before kings, and not obscure men (Proverbs 22:29). Daniel did his work with excellence, but he had no ambitions in Persia. His heart was clearly with his people, his homeland, and God's plans for the earth. So when the other governors and satraps conspired against him, I imagine that Daniel almost ignored them. He had far bigger things on his mind. He probably heard the threat, knew it was petty jealousy, proceeded about his business, and forgot about it.

It was the Persian custom that a law sealed by the king could not be changed (Daniel 6:15), which was the same issue Esther ran into in her day. Clearly Darius realized that his satraps and governors had convinced him to sign such a law just to entrap Daniel. Darius wanted to rescue Daniel and tried to find a loophole (Daniel 6:14), but even he couldn't do it, which was what his officials had counted upon. Daniel's devotion to the Lord had made such an impression on Darius by this point that when Daniel was cast into the lion's den, Darius declared, "Your God, whom you serve continually, He will deliver you" (Daniel 6:16). Even this pagan king believed God would save Daniel! He also loved Daniel so well that he didn't sleep that night, and rose first thing in the morning to check on Daniel and see if God had indeed delivered him. If he had been certain to find Daniel dead, he presumably wouldn't have gone to check.

What must it have been like for Daniel to spend the night in that pit? Did he actually see the angel that he later told Darius had shut the lions' mouths? I don't see why not; he'd seen Gabriel at least twice before by this time. If Daniel's mindset was what I imagine it might have been, I suspect that he would have slept that night, just as Jesus did on the boat during the storm (Matthew 8:24, Mark 4:38, Luke 8:23). That's the picture of the perfect peace of one whose mind is stayed on the Lord because he trusts in Him (Isaiah 26:3). Daniel, I think, embodied this peace. That's why he inspired even Darius with such confidence on his behalf.

When the king found Daniel alive, he then did to the conspirators what they had intended to do to Daniel. The concept of reaping what one sows is well established in scripture (Luke 6:38, Galatians 6:7, Proverbs 26:27). The fact that the lions tore them apart before they even hit the bottom of the pit proves that they were both vicious and hungry; they just hadn't been able to touch Daniel. It seems awfully harsh to punish the conspirators' wives and children for crimes they did not commit, and this is not God's way (Deuteronomy 24:16, Jeremiah 31:30). But God was not the one to mete out judgment against Daniel's accusers; Darius was.

Fictional Retelling:

I lived almost my entire life in exile—in the land that was Babylon for the majority of my life, and then became Persia in my old age. I was constantly surrounded by political intrigue, though most of the time, it did not concern me. My dominant thoughts lay elsewhere.

Though I'd left there as a boy, my heart was still in Jerusalem: the city of my father David. It had been so many years since I'd seen it that the place had taken on a mythical quality in my imagination, and I commingled the concept of Jerusalem with that of the throne room of heaven. Every day, when my duties as one of the governors over the kingdom of Persia did not otherwise compel me, I pored over the writings of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel for some clue of the Lord's plans for His people. After I read, I opened the windows of the upper room of my home so that the sunlight would stream in; in my mind's eye, the sunlight was the radiance of the Lord Himself upon his throne, emanating from Jerusalem, His city. I faced Jerusalem and I prayed for wisdom, for repentance on behalf of my wayward people, and for mercy.

When I shifted my heavenly focus down to the here and now, I executed my duties as governor with the wisdom the Lord gave me. King Darius set forty provinces, led by forty satraps, under each of his three governors. My provinces prospered effortlessly—of course. I had the wisdom of the Lord. It was clear that King Darius recognized the Lord's influence and admired me above all of the other governors and satraps, and I knew he considered putting me over the entire realm because of this. This was fine. I had no aspirations at my age. My heart and soul belonged to my own people and nation; I only labored for this one because for now, Darius was my king, and integrity demanded that I do the work he set before me to the best of my ability. I was vaguely aware that my more ambitious peers and the satraps under them envied me. I could do nothing about this though, and regarded their esteem lightly anyway. So I paid it little attention.

Instead, I spent my days swept up in visions and prophecy. One morning when reading the writings of the prophet Jeremiah, his words leapt off the scroll to me that the time of Jerusalem's desolations was to be seventy years.

Sixty-nine years had passed.

I tore my robes and put on sackcloth, deliberately sprinkling the floor of my upper room with ashes to symbolize repentance on behalf of my people, and determined to fast before the Lord for however long it took. Then I threw open my windows and fell to my knees, praying toward Jerusalem with such fervor that it was as though time and space fell away. I do not know how much time passed before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was already so worked up that I jumped and my eyes flew open. The man I beheld was one I had met once before: the angel Gabriel. He was much larger and more powerfully built than the greatest of the Persian warriors, radiant with light and dressed in gleaming white.

He told me I was greatly beloved. He also showed me that there was a deeper meaning to Jeremiah's prophecy than what I had first supposed. Yes, there would be seventy years until my people could return to Jerusalem. But there would also be seventy weeks of years from the time of Jerusalem's reconstruction to the end of the age, and sixty-nine weeks of years from the reconstruction to the appearance of the Messiah.

I floated after this, so buoyant with happiness and overwhelmed with the implications of Gabriel's message that the details of the concrete world around me paled in comparison. So when I heard that the other governors and satraps had convinced Darius to sign into law the ridiculous order that for thirty days, anyone caught praying to any god or man except to him should be cast into the lion's den, I hardly considered it. I would not have heeded the rule at any time, but especially not now. The Lord had shown me such wonderful and marvelous things, so much larger than myself and my own life. I saw myself as a representative for my people, and Gabriel's words had confirmed this to me. We were on the cusp of the breakthrough I had awaited all my life… would I be stymied by fear, due to the petty jealousy of those who fancied themselves my political rivals? By no means!

I went home that very day and threw open the windows of my upper room as I always did. Then I knelt down and prayed to the Lord. I prayed for the end of my people's captivity. I envisioned my own return to Jerusalem, the city of my fathers. I prayed for my people 483 years from now, when Messiah the Prince would be revealed—oh! What a day that would be! May the people of that day know and recognize and rejoice at the appearance of their hope and redemption!

Two more times that day I did the same, giving thanks to God for hearing my prayers and for esteeming me so well that He was pleased to reveal to me what would come, long after my time. Both the second and third times I prayed that day, I glanced down and saw the assembly of governors and satraps on the street below, watching me, pointing, and whispering to one another.

"Oh Lord," I prayed when I saw them, "as King Solomon wrote, 'let he who digs a pit fall into it, and he who rolls a stone have it roll back on him.'" Then I went on with my prayers, thanksgiving, and supplications. I forgot all about the men clearly conspiring against me, until I heard a pounding upon my door at nightfall. It was insistent.

"Daniel!" shouted a voice I recognized as Kasper's, one of the other governors of the realm. I could tell he was not alone, but that he was with a company—probably the very ones who had seen me praying that day. I could make out the voice of Bijan, one of the most hateful of Darius's satraps, among them. "Open up, by decree of the king!"

Instinctively and though my window was shut just then, I glanced in the direction of Jerusalem, since in my mind, that was the direction of God's throne. More of Solomon's words came back to me unbidden: Though they join forces, the wicked will not go unpunished, but the posterity of the righteous will be delivered. I wrapped my nightclothes in my cloak and opened the door. Perhaps six pairs of hands grabbed me at once, and dragged me out of my house so forcefully that I stumbled, old man that I was.

"Daniel!" Kasper's voice rose above the din, even as they dragged me toward the palace, "you have not shown due regard for the king! You were seen today petitioning and praying to your God, against the royal decree. You knew the penalty for this was death by lions. We take you now to meet your fate!"

I tripped and nearly fell numerous times on the short walk to the palace dungeons, had it not been for the hands upon my robes. I should have been terrified, and entirely in this moment. Yet somehow, I felt insulated, almost as if I were watching the events transpire against someone else. I kept thinking of my friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego who, many years ago, had defied a similar order from King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. I had been traveling on the king's business at the time. When I returned and heard the story of their supernatural deliverance, I'd been almost envious. I so wished I'd been there with them, to have seen the Lord face to face! What a story!

Now, almost sixty years later, here was my chance.

King Darius met me and my entourage at the entrance to the palace dungeons, looking frantic and disheveled.

"Daniel—!" he moaned, his voice thick with grief. "I did everything I could to deliver you, but the decree is iron-clad!"

"I know you did," I smiled at the king tenderly, and reached out a hand to his shoulder. It was a more familiar gesture than I perhaps would have attempted under any other circumstance, but I felt a rush of affection for him in his obvious distress. He was too inexperienced a ruler to have understood how his governors and satraps had played him. He had not known the extent of the political machinations of his court when he'd signed that decree, though he knew now.

"Your God, to whom you are so loyal, is going to get you out of this!" Darius suddenly declared.

I blinked at him in amazement, then beamed, even as the satraps moved the stone off of the mouth of the lion's den. I knew this, but to hear it from the mouth of a pagan king!

"You are already much closer to Him than you realize," I told the king. "I'll see you in the morning—"

My words were cut off by a rough thrust from the hands of my accusers, shoving me toward the open pit. I stumbled, and then fell in headlong, twisting in the air. I landed hard on my palms and knees, sending jolts of searing pain up to my wrists, shoulders, knees, and hips. I gasped, but then tested my bones and joints to make sure nothing was broken. Darius let out a strangled sob up above, as the satraps and governors heaved the stone back in place. Just before it sealed, I caught a glimpse of the five great shaggy beasts pacing and growling around me.

Then there was utter darkness.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, and could tell no difference. The padding of great paws picked up their pace, and the growling turned to roars, one after the other, like a great cacophonous symphony. I had the sense that the lions were frustrated by the prey in their very midst, and yet they could not seem to get at it.

"Let me see you, Lord," I prayed, yawning with sudden weariness as I lay down on the floor of the pit. "I know you're here…"

Suddenly the pit filled with an otherworldly glow. Gabriel circled around me, bearing a sword in each hand. He whipped it with dazzling speed each time one of the great cats got too close. They, in turn, backed off, but roared with fury.

"Go to sleep, Daniel," Gabriel told me, and flashed me a grin. "You might as well. I'm going to be up all night, anyway."

I laughed, and the vision faded until all was complete darkness again. I tuned out the lions' roars, though I think they eventually must have given up and fallen silent. I couldn't say for sure. I drifted off fairly soon after that.

"Daniel!"

I gasped awake, squinting against the light streaming in from the top of the now open pit. I perceived a silhouette up above, though all I could see was the disheveled hair sticking out in all directions. I recognized the voice as the king's though. He sounded nearly as anxious as he had the night before.

"Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God, whom you serve so loyally, saved you from the lions?"

I sat up, glancing around the pit to see the great cats fast asleep around me, though they stirred now as I did from the light and the noise. I grinned at the king, who began to come into focus as I gazed up at him.

"O king, live forever!" I called. "My God sent his angel, who closed the mouths of the lions so that they would not hurt me. I've been found innocent before God and also before you, O king. I've done nothing to harm you."

Darius let out a shout of glee, clapping his hands together. He stood up out of my view, and I could neither see nor quite hear what he did next, but I heard him speaking to someone. The next thing I knew, a thick rope with a loop at the bottom of it descended into the pit, and I saw two strong servants at the top, ready to pull me out. Two of the lions saw the commotion, got to their feet, and began to snarl and pace again.

"Hurry!" cried one of the servants, glancing at the lions with alarm, just as one of the lions let out an almighty roar.

"Oh, don't worry," I told them with a wave of my hand, as I stepped into the loop and grabbed on to the rope up above. "They're just frustrated. They can't even get close to me."

I wasn't sure if the servants even heard this, as they immediately began to heave me up and out. Once I was well out of the way, the lions paced to the place where I had been lying, roaring up at me and swiping the air with their claws. The edge of one claw sliced clean through the bottom of my robe, just as one servant let go of the robe to grab me around my waist. I twisted to sit down at the top of the pit and edge away.

"Daniel!" King Darius forgot his royal position and threw his arms around my neck, weeping with relief. Surprised, I patted his shoulders, and then he pulled me back to inspect me. "You are truly unharmed?"

"Truly, my king," I nodded, wiping the last of the sleep from my eyes as I yawned.

"Did—you sleep in there?" he demanded, incredulous. Then he added, almost accusing, "I didn't even sleep last night! I rushed here at first light to see how you fared!"

I smiled at the king fondly. "My king honors me greatly with his concern," I said, and shrugged. "I saw no reason to fear the lions. Besides, I was tired."

The servants behind King Darius let out an incredulous snort of laughter at this, but stifled it when the king whipped around to glare at them. One of the servants clamped a hand over his mouth, as a slow answering smile spread across Darius's face. Then the king started to laugh too. Before I knew it, the servants were doubled over, as was the king, tears running down his face.

Nervous relief? I thought as I watched them in wonder, totally missing the humor.

When the king recovered himself, his expression grew suddenly fierce. He told his servants, "Tell my royal guard to seize Daniel's accusers, the other two governors, the complicit satraps, and their families. Bring them here at once, before the hour has passed!"

I felt a wave of foreboding and sympathy, suspecting I knew what the king intended to do to them for their treachery. Darius got to his feet, and I followed suit. He confirmed my fears when asked me, his expression dark, "Would you like to watch, Daniel?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, my king."

"You are a better man than I, then," said King Darius. "I rejoice at the destruction of my enemies. And your enemies have now become mine. You are dismissed."

I bowed my head and made my way alone back to my home. At a distance, I saw Kasper, his wife and children struggling against the rough hands of the king's royal guard. His wife wept and begged. The children, I could tell, did not understand what was going on, but knew something was wrong. They cried because their mother did. Though we were far away, Kasper's eyes locked with mine, frantic with fear. A wave of nausea rolled over me.

"O God, may it be quick and painless," I prayed. "I commend the souls of the innocents to Your mercy."

I heard later that my prayers were answered. The hungry, frustrated lions overpowered all those thrown into the den, killing them instantly before they even hit the bottom.

The same messenger informed me that the king had now officially placed me above the entire realm. I had assumed this would be the case, since the other two governors had perished. The news brought me sorrow—not because I minded the position, but I had never sought it, either. All this had transpired because the governors had not wanted to relinquish their power to me. Instead of merely their power, they had lost their lives, and those of their families too.

That evening, I heard the news that King Darius had sent out a royal decree to every corner of his kingdom, which read, "Peace to you! Abundant peace! I decree that Daniel's God shall be worshiped and feared in all parts of my kingdom. He is the living God, world without end. His kingdom never falls. His rule continues eternally. He is a savior and rescuer. He performs astonishing miracles in heaven and on earth. He saved Daniel from the power of the lions."

I took the written decree to the upper room of my home, and laid it before the Lord. I thanked Him for rescuing me. I thanked Him for humbling and saving King Nebuchadnezzar all those years ago, when he returned to his right mind and served the Lord for the rest of His days. I thanked him that King Darius now honored Him too. I thought of Jonah's ministry to Nineveh, and how they too had repented. I thanked the Lord that He did not show favoritism; He wanted to save the Jew and the Gentile alike, the rich and the poor, the ruler and the peasant. I thanked Him that though I had been brought into Babylon as a captive, now like Joseph, I found myself favored by the king, and second in command of a pagan kingdom.

"You are faithful to honor Your servants who fear You, even in a land not our own," I prayed.

Yet still, my heart was not here, in this foreign nation where I had lived most of my life. For all my power and prestige, I was but a sojourner; that was the great irony. I would serve the Lord where He had placed me to the best of my ability all of my days, and would try to represent Him well. But I would daily pray toward my true home, awaiting the day of our redemption.

Today's podcast comes from this blog post: Spotlight on: Oregano.

Today's meditation and retelling comes from Luke 1:5-25, 39-80.

Zacharias and Elizabeth are the only other truly elderly couple in scripture to bear a child, besides Abraham and Sarah. There are a lot of parallels between Isaac and John the Baptist. Why this couple, and why now? Why did his need to be a "miraculous" birth?

Gabriel did tell Zacharias that his prayers for a child were heard (Luke 1:13), so we know that Zacharias and Elizabeth wanted children long before this. Zacharias's response to Gabriel's good news was skepticism, based upon their ages (Luke 1:18), which suggests that he'd given up praying for children long ago, when he thought that it was too late. But given all the promises in scripture for fertility for those who followed the Lord, and the fact that this couple was blameless (Luke 1:6), I'm sure they wondered why it seemed that the Lord had not fulfilled His end of the promise. Elizabeth also called her barrenness a "reproach" (Luke 1:25). We know from the question the disciples asked Jesus about the man who was blind from birth (John 9:1-5) that it was a common belief among Israelites that physical ailments were a direct punishment for personal sin. Thus, like blameless Job, the people likely would have believed that it was some sin on their part that had kept them from bearing children all these years.

Yet God had not forgotten them… it just took faith and patience (a lot of it!) for them to inherit this particular promise (Hebrews 6:12). One reason for this likely is because John's conception and birth would have caused such a stir, and attracted such attention. Gabriel appears to Zacharias while he is performing his duties at the Temple, and the fact that he is subsequently struck dumb alerts everyone who was waiting for him outside the temple that he must have seen a vision (Luke 1:21-22). Then, after five months of seclusion, elderly Elizabeth reveals to all that she is pregnant. Imagine the whispers! She gives birth to the child, and then on the eighth day they break with all tradition and name him John, a name found nowhere in their lineage. As soon as Zacharias complies with Gabriel's final decree, his tongue is loosed, and he announces to all the onlookers that this is to be the prophet they have all been waiting for these four hundred years. Had his conception and birth been ordinary, this child would not have caused such a stir, or such expectation (Luke 1:65-66).

That's one reason why the Lord probably chose an elderly, faithful couple to be the parents of John the Baptist. But I suspect the other reason is because Elizabeth and Mary were close relatives (Luke 1:36). (In my retelling, I imagined that she was her great aunt, though the scriptures don't say what their exact relationship is.) They obviously knew each other well, though, because Mary goes to stay with Elizabeth for three months. This close relationship with another woman who had a miracle pregnancy was probably very important for Mary, who was being asked to take such an enormous step of faith, knowing she would be ostracized for getting pregnant out of wedlock. Not only does Elizabeth's pregnancy confirm Gabriel's words for Mary, but then the Lord reveals to Elizabeth that Mary, too, is pregnant, by the Holy Spirit, and with the Son of God (Luke 1:42-45)! I'm sure Mary very much needed this confirmation of the angel's word to her, and the encouragement.

While scripture never talks about the relationship between Jesus and John the Baptist as children, given the relationship between Mary and Elizabeth and the prophetic connection between the two boys' lives, they must have known each other before they each stepped into their ministries. And Jesus was born "in the fullness of time" (Galatians 4:4-7); he could not have come any earlier than He did. His forerunner had to just barely precede him. So had the Lord granted Zacharias and Elizabeth's prayer for children any earlier, they could not have been the parents of John the Baptist. I also suspect that John's later evangelistic success was in part due to the widespread knowledge of his miraculous birth. This great honor was reserved for a faithful couple, a couple who would continue to believe in Him, even when it looked like His word had failed. But this couple—or Elizabeth, at least—knew that God's promises never fail (1 Kings 8:56). He cannot lie (1 Samuel 15:29). His word is firmly fixed in the heavens (Psalm 119:89-90).

Zacharias's muteness may have been a punishment for his unbelief, but I think Elizabeth's interpretation in the retelling is more accurate. Scripture makes very clear that death and life are in the power of the tongue (Proverbs 18:21, and throughout Proverbs), and that we will have what we say (Numbers 14:28-29). Zacharias's protest to Gabriel expressed unbelief; it may well have been that Gabriel struck him mute so that he could not stop John's conception and birth from coming to pass by speaking forth his doubts.

The end of Malachi 4:6, prophesying the return of Elijah before the Messiah, says, "lest I come and strike the earth with a curse." That was the last word from the prophets for four hundred years. What a strange statement—that without the forerunner to prepare the way for the Lord, Jesus might have cursed the earth rather than redeem it! It's hard to imagine Jesus doing such a thing; yet in His second coming, He will judge those who refuse to repent. Apparently the first and second coming could have been one and the same, without John's six month ministry calling the people to a baptism of repentance (Luke 3).

In those six months, John became incredibly well known, and his impact continued even long after his death. In fact, after Jesus' resurrection and ascension, the great apostle Apollos preached the Word accurately, but he knew of only the baptism of John (Acts 18:25). Paul found that even Gentile believers in Ephesus knew only the baptism of John, and had not heard of the Holy Spirit (Acts 19:1-5). John's teaching of repentance from sins clearly spread far and wide, long after both his death, and the death and resurrection of Jesus. His ministry, preparing the way for the Messiah, long outlasted him.

Many churches today, and many believers, in a way still only preach the baptism of John. They focus exclusively on repentance from sins, a necessary first step to prepare the way for the fruits and gifts that come from the baptism of the Holy Spirit. But repentance is meant to be the preparation, not the end in itself. John himself said this (Luke 3:16). We need the baptism of the Holy Spirit, just as the disciples did in order to fulfill their calling (Luke 24:49). We can't do it without Him.

Fictionalized Retelling:

"Goodbye, my love." Zacharias kissed me, and threw his traveling cloak around his shoulders before mounting his donkey. Then he added with a teasing wink, "Try to stay out of trouble."

I smiled at his little joke. We lived in the hill country of Judea, we kept no servants, and we were childless—so I would be all alone, and could not possibly get up to any trouble even if I had wanted to. Usually when Zacharias's turn came to serve as a priest in the temple, I spent the time gardening, tending our few livestock, and experimenting with new dishes to feed Zacharias when he returned home.

"What will you do with yourself?" he asked the customary question, expecting my answer to be the same as always.

Today, though, it wasn't. "You know… I've been drawn to the books of the kings lately, for some reason. I think I'll study that." My husband had taught me to read in our early marriage. When I was younger, I required his help in interpreting what I read. Now that I was in my seventies, though, I knew the texts almost as well as he did.

Zacharias pursed his lips before moving his donkey forward. "Elijah?" he guessed, and I nodded. "Funny. I've been drawn to those passages too, of late."

"Oh really?" I mused. "Perhaps the time is drawing near?" After four hundred years of prophetic silence, the last verse in Malachi promised that Elijah himself would return as the forerunner of the Messiah.

Zacharias chuckled. "Perhaps. Every generation has believed that theirs would be the one to see the Lord's anointed. But, someone will have to be right eventually!" He winked and dug his heels in to his donkey's side. I watched him ride to the top of the hill, waving, until he was out of sight.

Then I looked up at the sky to judge how much time I had to spend upon my studies, and went inside, withdrawing the scrolls Zacharias kept of the Hebrew texts. I meant to go straight to the records of the kings, but the scroll unrolled of its own accord to Exodus. A passage that I had meditated on years ago practically leapt off the page at me: None shall miscarry or be barren in your land.

I blinked, and tried to shake it off. I kept unrolling, and one of the scrolls fell to the table, exposing a text opened to Deuteronomy.

There shall not be male or female barren among you.

I closed my eyes, breathing through the unexpected stab of an old wound. I had clung to these verses and many others that promised the same thing in my youth, even in to middle age. But when my cycles had ceased, I realized I had a choice. Either I would believe that God had forgotten to honor His covenant, that His promises to me had failed, that He had forsaken me—or, I would consider my continued barrenness a mystery and decide to trust in Him anyway, believing that one day it would make sense. I chose the latter, since I knew the former would lead only to bitterness.

God is good. He is faithful. I had staked my entire life upon that, and I would not waver now.

Yet I had never revisited those passages in all these years. They were too painful.

I breathed through it until the emotion subsided. Another scroll slipped free, revealing the latter psalms.

Children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb His reward. Like arrows are in the hand of a mighty man, so are children born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.

"Stop," I gasped out loud, clutching my chest. I wasn't sure if I was begging the Lord to stop, or some outside force… I only knew I did not want to revisit this subject.

There was more to the issue of being a barren woman than not having a child. That by itself would have been bad enough. But Deuteronomy made it very clear that God would bless those who obeyed Him, and curse those who disobeyed Him. Because of this, the common belief among the Jews was that those who suffered a curse of any kind were receiving their just deserts. The story of Job should have dispelled the concept that affliction is always connected to personal sin, and yet the idea persisted.

Zacharias and I were not perfect of course, but we believed in the Lord and in His promises, like Abraham had done. I was sure that like Abraham, our faith was counted to us as righteousness. Yet despite this, and despite the very clear promises in scripture, we remained childless. I knew that many secretly wondered what sin I had committed to merit such a punishment. I had asked the Lord about this for almost a year after my cycles had ceased, but eventually I stopped asking. I had to. The question was driving me crazy.

I took another deep breath, and opened, finally, to the records of the kings. I reread the familiar story of Elijah's sudden arrival, announcing the famine to King Ahab. What a man he was! He reminded me a bit of King David in his outrageous faith. Without any direct word from God, he decided to take God's statement of a famine as part of the curse in Deuteronomy, and just go declare it to the king. I could just see God watching Elijah in heaven, shaking his head and smiling—almost with incredulity, if God could be incredulous. This guy was incredible.

Over the next couple of days of Zacharias's absence, I pored over the story of the famine, the ravens that fed Elijah by the brook Cherith, the widow of Zarephath, and the first recorded story of the resurrection of the dead. How did Elijah know that resurrection was even possible? It had never been done before, and there was no record that God had told him anything about it. But if anybody was going to test the boundaries of what was possible in God, it was he.

My favorite was the story of Mount Carmel. Surrounded by enemies, Elijah was supremely in control of himself, jeering at all the 750 false prophets. Perhaps your god did not answer because he was relieving himself! he taunted. I laughed out loud at that every time. Then he doused his own offering in water multiple times to make it as hard as possible to set ablaze before he called upon the Lord. Fire fell from heaven at once, of course, consuming not just his offering, but his entire altar, and every last drop of water!

I realized I was grinning with pride, and stopped to wonder at my own reaction. Pride implied ownership, didn't it?

Strange. I paused in my reading, and prepared for myself an easy supper of bread and milk. I could cook, but I didn't feel like it right now—I had no one to feed but myself, and I was too otherwise engrossed.

The day I expected Zacharias's return, I skipped to the story in the latter kings, where God took Elijah up to heaven in a chariot of fire. Elisha, meanwhile, stood down below and watched, as Elijah's prophetic mantle passed to him.

Then I opened to the passage at the end of Malachi: "Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord."

What did this mean? I wondered. Send Elijah? Would he return the way he left, in a chariot of fire? Would he return in the same body, with the same mind and personality? The scripture gave no indication that a person who died could return to earth in a new body—but then, Elijah had never actually died. He was one of only two people recorded in scripture who had not, the other being Enoch from Genesis.

"And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the earth with a curse."

Lest I come and strike the earth with a curse? I had never thought about this passage before either. Did this mean that without Elijah preceding the coming Messiah, the Messiah might find that the hearts of his people had grown cold, and might curse the earth, rather than redeem it?

That was a chilling thought. It certainly made Elijah's second coming critical.

It occurred to me that Zacharias should have been here by now. I looked out the window at the position of the sun: it was late afternoon. Usually he returned on the last day of his service by midday. I determined not to worry about it, since there was nothing I could do anyway, and rose from my studies, grabbing my basket. I went out into my garden and began to collect vegetables and herbs for supper that evening. I rose when I heard the faint clop of donkey's hooves behind me.

"Finally!" I cried out, turning around. I shielded my eyes from the late afternoon sun, squinting to see Zacharias atop the donkey in his traveling cloak. "It's almost sunset, what kept you so long?"

He did not answer, though the donkey plodded on. I frowned. Hadn't he heard me?

"Zacharias?"

Still he did not reply, though he waved and nodded that he had heard me. Something was very strange. I dropped my basket and walked forward to meet him. When I came close enough, he made an exaggerated mime of writing. Then he pointed at the house. I read his lips and saw that he mouthed the words, Get me a scroll and pen.

"Can… can you not talk?"

He shook his head no, and dismounted, leading his donkey by the reins to the stable. I stood dumbfounded as well, wondering what to make of this. Was it an illness of some kind? But if that were the case, if he had merely lost his voice, surely he could still at least whisper. Yet no sound escaped his lips at all.

Finally Zacharias joined me, putting a hand on my lower back and ushering me inside. I found for him the scroll, jar of ink, and pen, and set them on the table beside the open scriptures. He scribbled as fast as he could, I saw an angel in the temple. He said his name was Gabriel.

My heart started to gallop. "The same one who appeared to Daniel?" I gasped, and my husband nodded vigorously.

The very same, he wrote. He says you are going to bear a son.

He stopped writing and looked at me. I stared at the words. My mind went blank, but my knees suddenly gave out, and I sank to a seat beside him. Zacharias reached out and took my hand in his, nodding at me as if to say, I mean what I say.

Children are a heritage of the Lord, the verse echoed in my mind. Heritage, as in, inheritance. It's a promise.

I looked up to heaven and whispered, "Why now? Why not… I don't know, forty years ago?"

Zacharias wrote, We are to call him John. I know there is no one in our family by that name, he added, as if he thought that would be my next question. He is to be the forerunner of the Christ, and will come in the spirit and power of Elijah.

My mouth fell open.

That was why the Lord had taken me back to all those passages. The promises for a child. The story of Elijah. The promises for the forerunner.

That meant the Messiah was coming—soon. Probably in my lifetime.

My hands absently sought my belly. Zacharias placed his hand over mine. I looked up at him.

"But… why can't you talk?" I whispered.

He looked a little bit bashful, and hesitated before he wrote, I talked back to Gabriel.

I let out a short little guffaw. "You did what?"

He nodded, gave me a sheepish grin, and wrote, I told him we were too old to have children. He said I would be mute until the day of John's birth.

Now I laughed out loud. "Well, it serves you right!" I teased him, wiping away the tears that I suddenly realized had leaked onto my face. Then I caught my breath. "Wait a minute—Zach." I shook my head. "'Death and life are in the power of the tongue. Those who love it will eat its fruit'… that wasn't a punishment. It's because our words can stop it from coming to pass if they don't agree with what the Lord said…" I clamped my hands on my cheeks, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. In a strange way, I was grateful for my husband's affliction, because it served as a sign to me. I had not seen Gabriel, but Zacharias would not invent such an ailment. He never even would have thought of it. Without his muteness, I might have wondered in time whether he had imagined the encounter. But here was proof!

I lifted both hands in the air and whispered, "Praise You, Lord of heaven and earth. You have not forgotten me. You have taken away my reproach among my people. You have granted me the high honor of not only bearing a child past the age of childbearing, like Sarah, but the honor of bearing a great prophet, like Hannah." I grinned at Zacharias. "He'll be a firebrand, too, if Elijah was any indication!" I sniffled, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. "I can hardly wait to meet him!"

Over the next several days, I pumped Zacharias for information until he had written down every detail of his encounter with Gabriel. I wanted to know exactly what the angel looked like, and exactly what he had said. I wanted it to be as if I had seen him myself. For the thousandth time, I was grateful that my husband had taught me to read. He wrote of how he had lingered in shock inside the temple long past the end of his service, which was why he had been late getting home. Then when he finally emerged, the people guessed that he had seen a vision when he could not speak to them.

"But you haven't told anyone," I pressed. "Right?" He shook his head no, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good." He gave me a quizzical look, and I tried to put my feelings into words. Finally I said, "You know what people will say, Zach. I'm seventy, and I was barren even when I was young. They'll be well-meaning, but they'll try to talk me out of it, because they don't want me getting my hopes up. Death and life is in the power of the tongue, and—" I groped for words. "I just don't want anyone to see me until it's undeniable. Right now, let's just keep this between us. We'll study Elijah, study the Messianic prophecies so we can guide John in his purpose when the time comes, rehearse what Gabriel told you, and then just… introduce the world to our son."

Zacharias reached out, took me by both hands, and squeezed. Then he moved one of his hands to my soft, slightly sagging belly. He leaned forward and kissed me.

For five months I remained at home, meditating upon what the Lord had done for me, and dreaming of the days to come. Then, finally, I came out of seclusion. I said nothing to anyone about the little bulge as I went into the marketplace, whistling like I had a great secret. I saw people looking and whispering, but no one was brave enough to ask me. They probably had convinced themselves that I had just put on weight in a strange way. Or perhaps that I had a tumor.

In my sixth month, Zacharias and I were at home, and I heard that we had a visitor. He answered the door, though I ran to intercept whoever it was, since of course Zacharias could not speak to them. I heard the young female voice of my grand-niece Mary, and at once, I felt little John give a great kick. It doubled me over, and in the moment I tried to catch my breath, a flash of insight came to me.

Mary is pregnant with the Messiah!

I blinked, tears of joy pricking my eyes. The thought arrived with such absolute conviction that the Lord might as well have said it out loud.

I heard Mary awkwardly trying to understand why my husband would not greet her, and I straightened, calling out as I approached, "God has blessed you above all women, and your child is blessed!" She startled, and grew suddenly pale. I grinned back knowingly. "Why am I so honored, that the mother of my Lord should visit me? When I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. You are blessed because you believed that the Lord would do what he said!"

Mary gave me a quavering smile, her eyes full of tears, and I understood that the Lord had given me those words for her sake. She was unmarried, a virgin, and newly pregnant—her miracle was even greater than mine. But she was not showing yet, and she was struggling to believe. That was why the Lord sent her to me: to see my miracle, as an encouragement to her! Her eyes went to my belly, and I beamed proudly, putting a hand on either side of it. She ran forward and hugged me, and burst into a song of praise worthy of King David, bless her little heart. I joined in, and though Zacharias could not, he watched us and raised his hands up to the Lord in worship.

"Stay with us," I urged Mary when we had finished, all three of us grinning and exultant. "At least until you are showing. It's easier that way, believe me."

Mary's joyful expression faltered. "But… Joseph doesn't know yet."

"Who's Joseph?" I asked.

"My betrothed," she murmured. "He had only just asked for my hand, when the angel Gabriel appeared to me—"

"Oh, Gabriel was the one who came to you too!" I cast a fond look at my husband, who looked bemused.

Mary nodded, and confessed, "I love Joseph. But I know what he will think—obviously. What else could he possibly think? Why would he believe such a story?"

I squeezed Mary's hand. "Let the Lord take care of it," I advised her. "It's His problem, after all. He got you into this mess; He'll work out the details."

Mary giggled, and I watched her fondly. She was so very young. What an incredible weight to place upon those narrow shoulders! And yet, the Lord would never have chosen her if He did not know she was up to the task.

"Stay with us," I urged her again. "Until John is born, at least." I gasped, as it had just occurred to me right then—"They'll be cousins, then! John and the Messiah!"

"Yes!" Mary laughed. "And only six months apart in age…"

"They will have to play together as children," I asserted at once. "They'll grow up to be great friends." Then I added, musing aloud, "I wonder when we should tell them?"

Mary puffed out a heavy breath. "One problem at a time, please!"

I chuckled. "Very wise, child. Very wise."

Mary did remain with us for three months. I still went out to the marketplace until just before my time, and by then, all my friends and neighbors knew my real condition, and marveled.

When I gave birth, I was so enamored with my child that it took me almost a full day to notice that Zacharias still could not speak. I was rather used to his silence now, but this confused me, and upset him.

When the time came for the child's circumcision on the eighth day as prescribed by the law, it was also time to officially declare his name. They asked me what he was to be called, whether we would name him Zacharias, after his father. This had never occurred to me.

"No!" I asserted at once, "his name is John."

"John?" asked the priest, perplexed. "But there is no one among your relatives who is called by that name. Surely, he will be Zacharias."

They turned to my husband, who gestured for a writing tablet. He wrote very clearly, His name is John. As the priests stared at the tablet in wonder, Zacharias burst forth, "Praise the Lord!"

I gasped. "You can speak!"

Zacharias, laughing and crying at once, hugged me and took the little bundle from my arms. He gazed down at John with such love that for a second, I had the strange thought that I was looking into the face of God, seeing His love for my newborn child reflected in my husband's face.

"Praise the Lord, the God of Israel," he proclaimed, "because he has visited and redeemed his people. He has sent us a mighty Savior from the royal line of his servant David,just as he promised through his holy prophets long ago. Now we will be saved from our enemies and from all who hate us. He has been merciful to our ancestors by remembering his sacred covenant— the covenant he swore with an oath to our ancestor Abraham. We have been rescued from our enemies so we can serve God without fear, in holiness and righteousness for as long as we live"

I blinked at Zacharias, astonished, and looked around the room to see the reactions of the rest of the priests. It was clear to me, at least, that the words were not Zacharias's own. Something—the Holy Spirit, surely—had taken hold of him.

He went on, gazing down at John, "And you, my little son, will be called the prophet of the Most High, because you will prepare the way for the Lord. You will tell his people how to find salvation through forgiveness of their sins. Because of God's tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace."

I suddenly realized I wasn't breathing. I sucked in a breath, and turned to one of the priests.

"Did you write all that down?" I demanded.

As if galvanized by my words, he jumped up to find a scroll and ink. I looked at Zacharias and whispered as I caressed our son's head, "He'll want to hear his father's prophecy about him when he grows up." I kissed his forehead and added tenderly, "Our little Elijah."

Today's podcast comes from this blog post: The Anti-Aging Nutrient You've Never Heard Of.

Today's podcast comes from this blog post, Health Benefits of Algae.

Today's podcast is a meditation on the scriptures of our identity in Christ, from the verses below.

Who We Are and What We Have In Christ

"Through him and for his name's sake, we received grace and apostleship to call people from among all the Gentiles to the obedience that comes from faith" (Romans 1:5)

"We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand" (Romans 5:1-2).

"Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God's wrath through him!" (Romans 5:9)

"when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son… how much more… shall we be saved through his life!... rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ through whom we have now received reconciliation" (Romans 5:10-11).

"those who receive God's abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ" (5:17).

"through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous" (5:19).

"Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, [so] we too may live a new life" (6:4).

"count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (6:11).

"you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit to God" (7:4).

"we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit, and not in the old way of the written code" (7:6).

"there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death" (8:1-2).

"You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you" (8:9).

"you received the Spirit of Sonship… Now if we are children, then we are heirs – heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ" (8:15, 17).

"And those he predestined, he also called; those he called; he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified" (8:30).

"in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us" (8:37).

"you yourselves are full of goodness, complete in knowledge and competent to instruct one another" (Romans 15:14).

"in him you have been enriched in every way – in all your speaking and in all your knowledge" (1 Cor 1:5).

"we have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us" (1 Cor 2:12).

"we have the mind of Christ" (1 Cor 2:16).

"All things are yours" (1 Cor 3:21).

"you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God" (1 Cor 6:11).

"the man who loves God is known by God" (1 Cor 8:3).

"For no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes' in Christ. And so through him the 'Amen' is spoken by us to the glory of God" (2 Cor 1:20).

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing" (2 Cor 2:14-15).

"in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God" (2 Cor 2:17).

"Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant – not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life" (2 Cor 3:4-6).

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Cor 3:18).

"through God's mercy we have this ministry" (2 Cor 4:1).

"if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ" (2 Cor 5:18-19).

"Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God's power we will live with him to serve you" (2 Cor 13:4).

"So we, too, have put our faith in Christ Jesus that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by observing the law" (Galatians 2:16).

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God" (Gal 2:20).

"So those who have faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith" (Gal 3:9).

"He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that by faith we might receive the promise of the Spirit" (Gal 3:14).

"You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ" (3:26-27).

"So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir" (Gal 4:7).

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will – to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ'" (Eph 1:3-9).

"In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity to the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory" (Eph 1:11-12).

"the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also the one to come" (Eph 1:18-21).

"God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions… and God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus" (Eph 2:4-7).

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do" (Eph 2:10).

"in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ" (Eph 2:13).

"In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit" (Eph 2:21-22).

"In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence" (Eph 3:12).

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us" (Eph 3:20).

"Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. From the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work" (Eph 4:15-16).

"filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ" (Phil 1:11).

"my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus" (Phil 4:19).

"For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Col 1:13-14).

"Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col 1:27).

"Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Col 2:3).

"For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority. In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead" (Col 2:9-12).

"These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ" (Col 2:17).

"For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory" (Col 3:3-4).

"put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator" (Col 3:10).

"the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ" (2 Thess 1:12).

"that you might share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ" (2 Thess 2:14).

"This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time" (2 Tim 1:9).

"the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory" (2 Tim 2:10).

"He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life" (Titus 3:5-7).

"Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them" (Heb 7:25).

"And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all" (Heb 10:10).

"who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood" (1 Peter 1:2).

"In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade – kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time" (1 Peter 1:3-5).

"Through him you believe in God" (1 Peter 1:21).

"He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed" (1 Peter 2:24).

"and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also – not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a good conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at God's right hand – with angels, authorities, and powers in submission to him" (1 Peter 3:21-22).

"Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord" (2 Peter 1:2).

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires" (2 Peter 1:3-4).

"God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son" (1 John 5:11).

Today's podcast comes from this blog post: Acne: Root Causes and Treatments.