Dharius Daniels - Don't Cross This Line

I want to read one scripture here during this series called Air Force. I want to read one scripture found in the book of Luke, chapter 18, verse 1. This is a statement that flows from the lips of Jesus Himself. Jesus says this: Luke 18, verse 1. Jesus told His disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. I want to talk from this subject in our time together, uh, family; here it is: don’t cross this line. Clap your hands if you’re excited already! If you’re excited about the word, don’t—don’t—don’t cross this line.

Family, I grew up in an age, in an era, and maybe it still exists, but I’m a little older now. I grew up in an age where, in school, there was a designated period of rest and reprieve called recess. During recess, students would engage in recreational activities for a designated period before returning to the classroom for the purpose of learning. More often than not, in my experience, that time of recess was managed appropriately and properly, with people engaging in games and students enjoying one another’s company. But from time to time, that period was not managed appropriately, and there would be some conflict and consternation. When some of this conflict and consternation transpired, someone would often get to the point where they were tired of yapping and ready for scrapping.

As an indication that they were close to their wits' end, and as an expression of their diminishing ability to compose themselves, they would often say a phrase that warned whoever they were talking to: they would literally or metaphorically draw a line in the sand or on the ground and say, «Don’t cross that line.» Although I am not condoning violence or encouraging that type of activity, I believe that experience has exegetical value because, sometimes in life—not necessarily physically, but spiritually—you have to draw a line and tell the adversary, «Don’t cross that line.» Do you hear what I just said? I said the scriptures are clear in communicating that your adversary is a bully. Peter says he goes about like a roaring lion. What does the roar do? The roar is supposed to be a roar of warning, but some have rightly said he’s a roaring lion, but he’s a toothless lion. His bark is bigger than his bite; he’s a bully, and bullies need boundaries.

If you don’t set a boundary, a bully will continually and consistently bully you. This is why it’s extraordinarily important for believers to have the spiritual audacity and ability to say, «You know what? I’m drawing a line in the sand, and I’m letting the enemy know, 'Don’t cross this line.'» Dearest, where are you getting this imagery from? Well, Mark Batterson, in his book *Circle Maker*, masterfully articulates what it means to draw a line. He tells the story of a Jewish legend about an individual who lived a generation before Jesus, during a time when a devastating famine hit the land. Remember, they were living in an agrarian society, so if agriculture is not prospering, nothing is. The animals couldn’t eat, they couldn’t trade animals, and they couldn’t eat because they grew their own food. Am I making sense?

So people were dying in this famine, and food was diminishing as a result. There was this man who lived a borderline ascetic life, an eccentric sage named Honey. The legend says that it got to the point where the people in the town said, «Go find Honey.» They went to find Honey, who was living this secluded, borderline ascetic, monastic life, and they said, «Honey, it’s got to rain. We’ve got to do something!»

The legend states that Honey gets up from his seat. He’s getting old and can’t move as fast as he used to; he looks frail on the outside, but there’s power on the inside. Honey walks outside using his staff to help him maintain his balance. The legend goes that Honey draws a circle in the sand, kneels down in the middle of that circle, and says, «Lord of the universe, I swear before Your great name that I will not move from this circle until You have mercy on Your children.»

As the prayer ascended to heaven, raindrops began to fall. It was sprinkling, not pouring. Whereas an ordinary individual with ordinary faith would have been satisfied, Honey understood the difference between contentment and complacency. He said, «I’m grateful, but I’m not satisfied.» So where the average person would have gotten out of the circle, Honey stayed right there in the circle, saying to God, «Not for such rain have I prayed. I pray for rain that will fill cisterns; I pray for rain that will overflow in pits; I pray for rain that will come out of caves.» The legend says the sprinkle turned into a downpour, and the rainmaker began to make it rain everywhere. Honey got up, took his staff, walked back to his seat, and dug in with the prophet.

You missed what I just said! Don’t miss the point of the parable, family: heaven opens when lines are drawn. Did you hear what I just said? We don’t draw lines with a pen; we draw lines with prayer. Prayer is the way we draw spiritual lines, and that prayer becomes an invitation for God’s intervention in that situation. Listen to me, y’all: prayer is oral, written, or mental communication with…