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When I cry unto Thee, then shall mine enemies turn back.| -- PSALM lvi.
But it must be a real |cry|! It must not be an idle recitation which sheds no blood. It must be a cry like the cry of the drowning, a cry which cleaves the air like a bullet. Said a man to me some while ago, |Assault the heavens with cries for me!| That is the cry which takes the kingdom by storm.
When such a cry rends the heavens, |my enemies turn back.| A secret and irresistible artillery begins to play upon them, and their strength fails. Yes, believing prayer calls these invisible allies into the field. |The mountains are full of horses and chariots of fire round about!| And the enemy flies!
|This I know.| The psalmist is building upon experience. The miracle has happened a hundred times. Many a morning has he seen the enemy vaingloriously tramping the field, and he has cried unto the Lord, and before nightfall there has been a perfect rout. Blessed is the man who has had such heartening dealings with the Lord that he can now face a hostile host in unclouded faith and assurance!