Welcome to Pamoja Ministry. In our previous conversation,
we stood with Jehoshaphat on a battlefield, surrounded
by enemy commanders who believed they had finally
found the king they had been ordered to kill.
There was nowhere to run. There was no time to
develop another strategy. There was no opportunity
to explain the misunderstanding. The enemy was
already there. And in that moment, Scripture
tells us that Jehoshaphat did something incredibly
simple. He cried out, Then 2 Chronicles 18 -31
gives us one of those sentences in scripture
that can easily be read quickly, yet contains
an extraordinary revelation about the way God
intervenes in the lives of His children. It says,
I want us to stay with those words for a moment
because there is something here that we need
to understand. God could have helped Jehoshaphat
without moving his enemies. He could have strengthened
Jehoshaphat to fight. He could have given him
unusual courage. He could have empowered his
soldiers. He could have shown him an escape route.
He could have given him wisdom to survive the
attack. All of those things would have been divine
help, but that is not what the text emphasizes.
Jehoshaphat cried out, the Lord helped him, and
God moved them. God did not merely change Jehoshaphat.
God changed what was happening around Jehoshaphat.
And there is a major difference, because sometimes
when we ask God for help, we assume that God's
answer will always be to give us enough strength
to survive what is coming. And sometimes he does.
There are battles God will strengthen you to
fight. There are storms God will give you grace
to endure. There are valleys through which he
will give you strength to continue walking. There
are seasons where the situation does not immediately
change, but somehow God changes you while you
are inside it. Paul understood that kind of grace.
He prayed repeatedly concerning what he called
a thorn in his flesh, asking God to take it away.
But instead, the Lord told him, My grace is sufficient
for thee, for my strength is made perfect in
weakness. God did not remove what Paul asked
him to remove. God gave Paul sufficient grace
to live faithfully through it. That is divine
help. And we should never underestimate that
kind of help. Sometimes the miracle is not that
the storm disappears. Sometimes the miracle is
that you remain standing while the storm continues.
Sometimes God calms the sea. Sometimes God strengthens
the sailor. Sometimes God removes the mountain.
Sometimes God gives you strength to climb it.
Sometimes God opens the prison. Sometimes He
gives you a song while you are still inside it.
Both are God. Both are grace. Both are evidence
of His presence. But Jehoshaphat's experience
introduces us to another dimension. There are
moments when God does not merely strengthen you
to face what is coming. God intervenes with what
is coming. The text says, God moved them. Think
about that. Jehoshaphat's enemies had already
made a decision. They had already identified
him. They had already surrounded him. They had
already begun moving toward him. Their intention
was established. Their direction was established.
Their military orders were established. Everything
appeared to be moving toward one conclusion,
but somewhere between their intention and its
fulfillment, God intervened. And suddenly the
people who were coming toward Jehoshaphat, began
moving away from him. There are things in life
that you cannot move. There are decisions you
cannot reverse. There are hearts you cannot change.
There are conversations you are not present to
influence. There are rooms you cannot enter.
There are circumstances beyond your authority.
There are systems bigger than you. There are
people whose intentions you cannot control. And
one of the greatest sources of anxiety in human
life is discovering that something important
to your future is happening in a place where
you have no influence. You cannot control what
they say. You cannot control what they decide.
You cannot control what they think. You cannot
control what they intend. Jehoshaphat could not
stop those commanders from believing he was their
target. But he knew someone who could intervene.
And perhaps this is where some of us have exhausted
ourselves unnecessarily. We have been trying
to move things that only God can move. Trying
to change hearts we cannot change. Trying to
force doors we cannot open. Trying to control
conversations we cannot hear. Trying to defend
ourselves in places where we are not present.
Trying to manage outcomes that are completely
beyond our authority. And eventually, God brings
us to the place where our prayer becomes, Lord,
I cannot move this. If it is going to move, you
will have to move it. That is not weakness. That
is recognition. It is recognizing the boundary
between human responsibility and divine sovereignty.
Jehoshaphat had reached that boundary. He could
cry, but God had to move. And I wonder how many
times God has moved something for us without
us ever knowing it. How many conversations changed
before they reached us? How many decisions were
reconsidered? How many dangers passed without
our awareness? How many plans never materialized?
How many people intended something that somehow
never happened? How many roads were closed because
something was waiting farther ahead? How many
delays frustrated us while unknowingly protecting
us? How many times did something move away from
us while we were sleeping? We may never know,
because one of the mysteries of divine intervention
is that you do not always see the intervention
taking place. Sometimes all you see is the result.
Jehoshaphat cried out. Then the men departed.
He could see them leaving. But could he see God
moving them? No. He saw the effect. Scripture
reveals the cause. God moved them. And this is
important because there are moments when What
appears to us to be a human change of mind may
actually be the invisible hand of God, working
through human decisions. The commanders eventually
recognized that Jehoshaphat was not the king
of Israel they were seeking. From a purely human
perspective, someone could say, they simply realized
they had the wrong man. And that would appear
to explain everything. But scripture takes us
behind what human eyes could observe. The Bible
says, The Lord helped him, and God moved them
to depart from him. That means heaven was involved
in what looked like an ordinary battlefield decision.
And perhaps that is one of the reasons divine
intervention remains a mystery. Because not every
intervention looks supernatural from the outside.
Sometimes a sea opens. Sometimes fire cannot
burn. Sometimes chains physically fall. But sometimes
someone simply changes direction and only God
knows what happened inside that moment. This
is why we must be careful not to define miracles
only by spectacular events. Sometimes the miracle
is the phone call you never received. Sometimes
the miracle is the accident that never happened.
Sometimes the miracle is the person who suddenly
said, I've changed my mind. Sometimes the miracle
is the opportunity that unexpectedly opened.
Sometimes the miracle is the enemy who simply
walked away. You saw the person move. God saw
his hand moving them. And this pattern appears
throughout scripture. When Israel left Egypt,
Pharaoh changed his mind and pursued them. But
at the Red Sea, God intervened in a way no human
being could manufacture. When Daniel was thrown
into the lion's den, God did not remove Daniel
from the den immediately. Instead, God intervened
with the lions. Daniel later testified, My God
hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lion's
mouths, that they have not hurt me. Daniel could
not shut those mouths. God could. When Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego entered the furnace, God
did not prevent them from being thrown into the
fire. Instead, he intervened with the power of
the fire. The furnace remained hot, the flames
remained real, but what had the natural ability
to destroy them could not accomplish its assignment.
When Peter was sleeping between soldiers in Acts
chapter 12, bound with chains and guarded inside
a prison, Peter could not open those doors. He
could not remove those chains. He could not overpower
those guards. But while the church was praying,
heaven entered a place human help could not reach.
The angel came, the chains fell, the doors opened,
and Peter walked out. Again and again scripture
reveals this pattern. Human impossibility becomes
a stage upon which divine possibility is revealed.
But there is another layer we must not miss.
Divine intervention does not mean that every
difficult circumstance will disappear simply
because we cry out. The same Bible that tells
us God moved Jehoshaphat's enemies also tells
us about believers who endured suffering faithfully.
Paul knew deliverance, but Paul also knew hardship.
Peter experienced miraculous prison escape, but
later gave his life for Christ. Jesus himself
prayed in Gethsemane, and the cup was not removed.
So our confidence cannot be built on the idea
that God must always change every circumstance
according to our preferred outcome. Our confidence
is deeper than that. We trust the God who decides
how His help will come. Sometimes His help is
strength. Sometimes His help is endurance. Sometimes
his help is wisdom. Sometimes his help is peace.
Sometimes his help is a person. Sometimes his
help is an open door. Sometimes his help is a
closed door. And sometimes his help is intervention.
He moves the thing. And this is why Psalm 121
begins with such a profound question. I will
lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence
cometh my help. Then comes the answer, my help
cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.
Think about the qualification scripture gives
your helper. The one helping you is not merely
someone stronger than you. He made heaven and
earth. So when Jehoshaphat cried out, he was
not calling upon someone operating under the
same limitations he was facing. He was calling
upon the God who stands above the battlefield.
Jehoshaphat saw chariots. God saw everything.
Jehoshaphat saw soldiers. God saw their hearts.
Jehoshaphat saw himself surrounded. God saw a
way of escape that did not even require Jehoshaphat
to create one. And that is why there are moments
when faith must stop asking, how am I going to
move this? And begin asking, Who is my helper?
Because once you know who your helper is, you
understand that your deliverance is not limited
to the possibilities you can currently imagine.
God can strengthen you, but God can also move
them. And now we are beginning to understand
why Psalm 91 connects deliverance with knowing
his name. God says, because he hath known my
name, then he shall call upon me and I will answer
him. and eventually I will deliver him, knowing
the name changes the cry. Because when a child
cries, Father, that cry carries relationship.
And when the believer cries, Jesus, we are not
speaking a magical formula. We are calling upon
a person. We are calling upon the one to whom
scripture says all authority in heaven and earth
has been given. We are calling upon the name
that Philippians says is above every name. We
are calling upon the one before whom every knee
will ultimately bow. And this is where our journey
is going, because Jehoshaphat teaches us that
there comes a moment when you may not have the
strength to fight, the wisdom to solve, the influence
to change, or the ability to escape, but you
can still cry. And when you cry, you are crying
to someone who is not surrounded simply because
you are surrounded. Your limitation does not
become God's limitation. Your impossibility does
not become God's impossibility. Your locked door
does not lock heaven out. Your enemy's decision
does not remove God's sovereignty. And what has
already started moving toward you is not beyond
the authority of God to redirect. Jehoshaphat
cried out, the Lord helped him, and God moved
them. Perhaps that is the word somebody needs
to carry away from this conversation. Stop measuring
God's ability by your ability. Stop assuming
that because you cannot move it, it cannot move.
Stop assuming that because you cannot see an
exit, there isn't one. Stop assuming that because
the decision has already been made, God has nothing
left to say. Stop assuming that because they
have surrounded you, the story is finished. There
is still a God above the battlefield, and sometimes
his answer will be, I will strengthen you. Sometimes
his answer will be, my grace is sufficient for
you. Sometimes his answer will be, stand still.
Sometimes his answer will be, this battle is
not yours. And sometimes without explanation,
without warning, without your assistance, you
will look again at what was surrounding you and
discover that it is moving away. And when someone
asks you, how did that happen? Perhaps you will
not have an explanation. Perhaps all you will
be able to say is, I cried out. The Lord helped
me and God moved them. That is the mystery of
divine intervention.