Heritage Bible Church

I want you to imagine this morning, imagine a midnight so dark that you can taste it. I want you to think of two men whose backs are torn open from Roman rods, feet locked painfully wide in stocks that often led to the dislocation of one's hips. No doctor. No attorneys. Mhmm. No visitors. Just the stench of despair and the cries of other prisoners. Got that focused? Most of us would probably curse or bargain, plea, beg, but Paul and Silas, they pray. They sing. They worship. Their dungeon becomes a cathedral, and the hardened jailer listening to it in the shadows finds his way to the lord Jesus.