I love the phrase “So . . . they went.” It’s such an understatement. These men set in motion a series of events that changed the world. Because they “went” anointed with the power of God.

I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.

But the scene is a brilliant depiction of how Christians often pray—frantic, impulsive, chaotic.

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” (Rom. 8:15)

I find myself embarrassed by how “formal” my prayer life has become, how careful.

God the Father, in partnership with God the Son, “disarmed the powers and authorities.” The Greek here for “powers and authorities” is arche and exousia—the exact words Paul used to refer to foul spirits of various rank: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers [arche], against the authorities [exousia], against the

“Yes—that is my point,” you might say. “I believe Jesus won. So why don’t prayers work better than they do? Isn’t Satan defeated?” Stay with me now, because this has staggering implications for you and the way you pray. The invasion of the kingdom of God is something that is still unfolding, right now, today.

For they are sons—they get to live under their father’s blessing; they get to drink from the abundance of my house (Ps. 36:8).

This resolves the issue in a way nothing else can remotely touch or settle. You should not, must not, please, please do not evaluate the loving-kindness of God toward you by the swirling tornado of events—especially by whether or not he seems to be answering the prayer at hand.