Branham Stories
Peck It. Knock A Hole In It
Like a chicken in a egg, what if he's afraid to peep? What if he's afraid to pip the egg? What if the little chicken inside the egg, a little bird was afraid to hit the egg shell? What if he'd heard a sound on the outside, said, "Don't hit that shell; might hurt yourself"? But nature itself in the bird tells him, "Peck it. Knock a hole in it."
Let all the old organizations say, "Days of miracles is passed. You're going to hurt yourself. You are going into fanaticism."
Peck right against the shell just as hard as you can. Hallelujah. "Satan, get away; I'm coming out of here; I'm not laying here anymore; I'm not setting here any more; I'm not on this old devil's ground no more; I'm pippin' my way out this morning. Amen. I'm a eagle." Amen. Hallelujah.
With that little old eagle, that trip-hammer neck back there pecking against that shell, no matter how hard the shell was, it pecked right on through it. First thing you know he could flop his wings a little. He was all right.
Peck your way out; that's right. How do you do it? Blasting it with THUS SAITH THE LORD, THUS SAITH THE LORD, THUS SAITH THE LORD; finally he begins to smell some fresh air. THUS SAITH THE LORD, got your head on the outside. THUS SAITH THE LORD. Push hard now, you're coming out. He never goes back to the shell again. Amen. He's free. Oh, my. That Word, once gets set down through all those senses, and consciences, and things, till It gets settled down here, and that mind opens up and lets it (oh, God, have mercy), there's never nothing to bondage it again. You're free. He who the Son has made free is out of the shell.
Your denomination can never call you back; the devil could never do anything more to you; he hiss and howl at you, but you're on the highway running just at high speed (Oh, my.), running up the King's highway, anointed soldier of the cross. All you eagles with faith proclaim "Jesus the Light of the world," run up the King's highway."
