30 Days of Thankful- Day #12
When I decided to write about what I am thankful for this month, THIS was the topic I was the most excited about. THIS was the first one I wanted to do. I was pumped up. I had been formulating how I would start, where I would take it and exactly how to finish. It was going to be great.
And then Curt said, "Hey, I want you to talk about this on Sunday."
OK...I can wait until after the 3rd and write about it then. After all, should anyone from my church read my blog I wouldn't want their coming on Sunday to be a repeat. (I don't even know if anyone does, no one has ever said a thing, hint, hint)
So I waited. The night of November 2 comes up and I am in full concentration over what I am going to say and how I am going to say it when Curt comes back from going over his sermon, and asks me to wait until next Sunday. <sigh> Seriously?! Do you not realize I have waited and waited to type this out!!!
Apparently he didn't nor was he overly concerned. So I waited another week. And to be honest, I was ready for him to tell me I was going to have to wait until the next week to speak. He has this thing about not going over on time. He's a freak about it. So when his sermon got a little lengthy he bumped me.
So Saturday night he comes in the door, looks over at me and says, "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Ummmmm, no, because I didn't think I would actually talk. Then he says, "You need to keep it brief."
<Insert annoyed look>
"How brief?" I say with a little attitude, because frankly, he wouldn't say this to anyone else. He'd give them a time frame and that would be that. But me, I get this vague "brief" time limit.
He gave me 10 minutes, I took 15. He'll get over it.
And NOW I finally get to tell you, I went to prison.
It was one of the coolest, most moving, most eye opening experiences I have EVER had.
I will never be the same. I praise God that I will never be the same. I walked in a prisoner, I left a free woman and I get it. I understand what God was trying to teach me and I hope I am able to convey that same thing to you today.
The only prison I had EVER seen was on tv so I wasn't really sure what to expect as we pulled up. Sure enough, there were layers of fence with the typical barbed wire on top. That surprised me some. I figured in this day and age barbed wire was barbaric and only used for cows, but nope. There it sat in a giant curly-q on top of a giant fence. We walked in, went through security much like an airport (I was frisked-never had that done before) and made our way down many sets of doors with guards at each one. Security to get in seemed intense or maybe it was just my mood, but it was intimidating.
Not as intimidating as seeing hundreds of women, all dressed in white from head to toe laying in beds staring at us through a huge glass window as we walked down the hall. The first set of barracks we came to were the trouble makers. They did not have individual rooms, nor did they have rooms to share with another person. They were in a huge open room with beds in rows, much like you'd see in a war movie with a makeshift hospital. Bright white lights, bright white floors, bright white clothes, and dead, angry looking faces. You could almost see the torture their own minds put them through daily.
At that moment all I could think was WHAT have I gotten myself into?! If these women choose to revolt at this moment I don't stand a chance. Inside I was a jumping, nervous mess. Outside, I smiled and walked on towards the next set of metal detectors.
The next section we came to was a room with a guard station in the center. There were three doors that I remember seeing. Each door led off to another set of barracks. These barracks were like the typical ones you see on tv. 2 story, big metal doors and an open area for women to gather. There was an enormous line of women from the door straight in front of us leading towards the door on our left. They were being patted down as they walked in and then they sat on a row of benches.
These faces were smiling. they were happy, they were joyful and I was still scared to death. I had not yet been able to shake off the fear from walking down the hall and by this time my mask of "I am so happy to be here" had become a little leery.
The four of us were escorted to seats near the front of the room, and we began to have church.
3 songs later my heart was changed. I was in the room with sisters. I was in the room with women that were genuinely praising God with all that they are. The songs we sang were poignant. The one song we sang in particular was a song that I had flippantly sang along with on the radio. Never again.
Then came the sermon. It was hard hitting, truthful and to the point. He (the chaplain) didn't beat around the bush. Some of these ladies would be getting out on parole soon and he needed to make sure he said things to them that would further their walk with Christ and help it to carry on with their children.
Talk about preaching as if they may never hear and know the gospel again. He gave it.
At this point I should let everyone know, this is a volunteer program the women sign up to be in. It is not forced but it is HIGHLY valued among the Arkansas prison system. Other countries have come to study this system because of its recidivism rate. It is remarkably low and that is a big deal.
Back to the preacher....... He said a lot in a relatively short period of time (45 min? an hour?) but this stuck with me. He told the ladies, "It is lazy Christianity to take your children to church and expect the church to educate your children. That is YOUR job." The women? They got it and you could see heads nodding all around the room.
And, they would be able to do it. They studied their Bibles several hours a day. They know how to do word studies and research. They have memorized great chunks of scripture in order for the Holy Spirit to be able to pull that forth at the moment they will need it. Talk about incredible!
We had the opportunity to speak with 3 of the 4 leaders in charge of the women in this program. All are inmates. 3 of the 4 are serving life sentences. Each takes full responsibility for what they did to end up in prison. The lady that touched me the most is a mother with children. She never shared her story, but she would be getting out in a year or so and the beauty and joy on her face was not there because her sentence was almost up. It is because she knew Jesus.
Leslie, another leader, was by far the most moving. She was well educated with a master's degree. She grew up in an affluent home and it was easy to tell she was very secure in who she is in Christ.
She is well spoken and moving.
She made it very clear to us that she would never get out of prison. It wasn't even something she tried to do. She is a lifer without the opportunity for parole and she is very secure in the fact that THIS is where God has placed her to live out her remaining days.
In no time it was easy to forget I was sitting in a prison. Had there been a table I could have easily placed this scene at a coffee shop, talking with fellow sisters in Christ. But the red light flashing, signaling the ladies to return to their bunks for a spot check, helped to remind me that I was sitting in the room with criminals whose earthly rights had been taken away.
Something the ladies said really stuck with me. This barrack is their neighborhood. Outside the door is their city. They have a mission field that they are in and it is a constantly changing and growing one. They have a short time to share Jesus with the ladies that come in and out of the prison and pray that His words will make a difference in their lives.
However, we, sitting there in our bright colored clothing, would be going back into the world. The parting words one lady had for us stuck with me, "You get to go back and talk to our children. You get to see the little girls hurting and needing help. Go! Tell them their lives don't have to come to this. There is hope! Tell them about Jesus and God's plan for redemption. Go! Tell them!"
We got to our feet to leave. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay right where I was and do church with them. I wanted to do life with them. I wanted to take their excitement for Christ, their love for Him and their love for each other with me. As we started to leave I asked one lady if I was allowed to hug her. She gave a quick glance at the door, saw the guard standing there waiting for us to go and I could see her head drop slightly. "No. No that wouldn't be a good idea." I could tell in that moment she was reminded that there was indeed a difference between us. I can not wait to meet that beautiful woman in heaven and hug her because there, there will be no difference between us. In fact, her crown will most likely be a little fuller, brighter and more sparkly than mine. She is doing God's work. She lives it out daily. She is the real deal.
The words of the second song we sang will forever mean so much more to me than before. I now sing this song with full understanding of what it means. I went to prison, but I had been schooled there. I GET IT.
Redeemed: By Big Daddy Weave (Mike Weaver)
Seems like all I can see was the struggle
Haunted by ghosts that lived in my past
Bound up in shackles of all my failures
Wondering how long is this gonna last
Then You look at this prisoner and say to me "son
Stop fighting a fight that's already been won"
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off theses heavy chains
Wipe away every stain now I'm not who I used to be
I am redeemed
All my life I have been called unworthy
Named by the voice of my shame and regret
But when I hear You whisper, "Child lift up your head"
I remember oh God, You're not done with me yet
I don't have to be the old man inside of me
Cause his day is long dead and gone
I've got a new name, a new life I'm not the same
And a hope that will carry me home
I walked in as, what I thought, a free woman. I wasn't. I walked into a room of women that were free. They know what redemption is. They know what it is to have God change the person they used to be. I WANT that. I WANT that freedom. No longer will I live as if I am chained down by the world. When I walked out, the chains of not living my life in redemption began to fall off.
Praise God!! I AM redeemed. HE set me free. I am NOT the woman I used to be. I WILL live my life in the freedom Christ has given me. No more guilt, no more regrets. I am redeemed.
Praise God, I am redeemed.
And I am thankful.
And then Curt said, "Hey, I want you to talk about this on Sunday."
OK...I can wait until after the 3rd and write about it then. After all, should anyone from my church read my blog I wouldn't want their coming on Sunday to be a repeat. (I don't even know if anyone does, no one has ever said a thing, hint, hint)
So I waited. The night of November 2 comes up and I am in full concentration over what I am going to say and how I am going to say it when Curt comes back from going over his sermon, and asks me to wait until next Sunday. <sigh> Seriously?! Do you not realize I have waited and waited to type this out!!!
Apparently he didn't nor was he overly concerned. So I waited another week. And to be honest, I was ready for him to tell me I was going to have to wait until the next week to speak. He has this thing about not going over on time. He's a freak about it. So when his sermon got a little lengthy he bumped me.
So Saturday night he comes in the door, looks over at me and says, "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Ummmmm, no, because I didn't think I would actually talk. Then he says, "You need to keep it brief."
<Insert annoyed look>
"How brief?" I say with a little attitude, because frankly, he wouldn't say this to anyone else. He'd give them a time frame and that would be that. But me, I get this vague "brief" time limit.
He gave me 10 minutes, I took 15. He'll get over it.
And NOW I finally get to tell you, I went to prison.
It was one of the coolest, most moving, most eye opening experiences I have EVER had.
I will never be the same. I praise God that I will never be the same. I walked in a prisoner, I left a free woman and I get it. I understand what God was trying to teach me and I hope I am able to convey that same thing to you today.
The only prison I had EVER seen was on tv so I wasn't really sure what to expect as we pulled up. Sure enough, there were layers of fence with the typical barbed wire on top. That surprised me some. I figured in this day and age barbed wire was barbaric and only used for cows, but nope. There it sat in a giant curly-q on top of a giant fence. We walked in, went through security much like an airport (I was frisked-never had that done before) and made our way down many sets of doors with guards at each one. Security to get in seemed intense or maybe it was just my mood, but it was intimidating.
Not as intimidating as seeing hundreds of women, all dressed in white from head to toe laying in beds staring at us through a huge glass window as we walked down the hall. The first set of barracks we came to were the trouble makers. They did not have individual rooms, nor did they have rooms to share with another person. They were in a huge open room with beds in rows, much like you'd see in a war movie with a makeshift hospital. Bright white lights, bright white floors, bright white clothes, and dead, angry looking faces. You could almost see the torture their own minds put them through daily.
At that moment all I could think was WHAT have I gotten myself into?! If these women choose to revolt at this moment I don't stand a chance. Inside I was a jumping, nervous mess. Outside, I smiled and walked on towards the next set of metal detectors.
The next section we came to was a room with a guard station in the center. There were three doors that I remember seeing. Each door led off to another set of barracks. These barracks were like the typical ones you see on tv. 2 story, big metal doors and an open area for women to gather. There was an enormous line of women from the door straight in front of us leading towards the door on our left. They were being patted down as they walked in and then they sat on a row of benches.
These faces were smiling. they were happy, they were joyful and I was still scared to death. I had not yet been able to shake off the fear from walking down the hall and by this time my mask of "I am so happy to be here" had become a little leery.
The four of us were escorted to seats near the front of the room, and we began to have church.
3 songs later my heart was changed. I was in the room with sisters. I was in the room with women that were genuinely praising God with all that they are. The songs we sang were poignant. The one song we sang in particular was a song that I had flippantly sang along with on the radio. Never again.
Then came the sermon. It was hard hitting, truthful and to the point. He (the chaplain) didn't beat around the bush. Some of these ladies would be getting out on parole soon and he needed to make sure he said things to them that would further their walk with Christ and help it to carry on with their children.
Talk about preaching as if they may never hear and know the gospel again. He gave it.
At this point I should let everyone know, this is a volunteer program the women sign up to be in. It is not forced but it is HIGHLY valued among the Arkansas prison system. Other countries have come to study this system because of its recidivism rate. It is remarkably low and that is a big deal.
Back to the preacher....... He said a lot in a relatively short period of time (45 min? an hour?) but this stuck with me. He told the ladies, "It is lazy Christianity to take your children to church and expect the church to educate your children. That is YOUR job." The women? They got it and you could see heads nodding all around the room.
And, they would be able to do it. They studied their Bibles several hours a day. They know how to do word studies and research. They have memorized great chunks of scripture in order for the Holy Spirit to be able to pull that forth at the moment they will need it. Talk about incredible!
We had the opportunity to speak with 3 of the 4 leaders in charge of the women in this program. All are inmates. 3 of the 4 are serving life sentences. Each takes full responsibility for what they did to end up in prison. The lady that touched me the most is a mother with children. She never shared her story, but she would be getting out in a year or so and the beauty and joy on her face was not there because her sentence was almost up. It is because she knew Jesus.
Leslie, another leader, was by far the most moving. She was well educated with a master's degree. She grew up in an affluent home and it was easy to tell she was very secure in who she is in Christ.
She is well spoken and moving.
She made it very clear to us that she would never get out of prison. It wasn't even something she tried to do. She is a lifer without the opportunity for parole and she is very secure in the fact that THIS is where God has placed her to live out her remaining days.
In no time it was easy to forget I was sitting in a prison. Had there been a table I could have easily placed this scene at a coffee shop, talking with fellow sisters in Christ. But the red light flashing, signaling the ladies to return to their bunks for a spot check, helped to remind me that I was sitting in the room with criminals whose earthly rights had been taken away.
Something the ladies said really stuck with me. This barrack is their neighborhood. Outside the door is their city. They have a mission field that they are in and it is a constantly changing and growing one. They have a short time to share Jesus with the ladies that come in and out of the prison and pray that His words will make a difference in their lives.
However, we, sitting there in our bright colored clothing, would be going back into the world. The parting words one lady had for us stuck with me, "You get to go back and talk to our children. You get to see the little girls hurting and needing help. Go! Tell them their lives don't have to come to this. There is hope! Tell them about Jesus and God's plan for redemption. Go! Tell them!"
We got to our feet to leave. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay right where I was and do church with them. I wanted to do life with them. I wanted to take their excitement for Christ, their love for Him and their love for each other with me. As we started to leave I asked one lady if I was allowed to hug her. She gave a quick glance at the door, saw the guard standing there waiting for us to go and I could see her head drop slightly. "No. No that wouldn't be a good idea." I could tell in that moment she was reminded that there was indeed a difference between us. I can not wait to meet that beautiful woman in heaven and hug her because there, there will be no difference between us. In fact, her crown will most likely be a little fuller, brighter and more sparkly than mine. She is doing God's work. She lives it out daily. She is the real deal.
The words of the second song we sang will forever mean so much more to me than before. I now sing this song with full understanding of what it means. I went to prison, but I had been schooled there. I GET IT.
Redeemed: By Big Daddy Weave (Mike Weaver)
Seems like all I can see was the struggle
Haunted by ghosts that lived in my past
Bound up in shackles of all my failures
Wondering how long is this gonna last
Then You look at this prisoner and say to me "son
Stop fighting a fight that's already been won"
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off theses heavy chains
Wipe away every stain now I'm not who I used to be
I am redeemed
All my life I have been called unworthy
Named by the voice of my shame and regret
But when I hear You whisper, "Child lift up your head"
I remember oh God, You're not done with me yet
I don't have to be the old man inside of me
Cause his day is long dead and gone
I've got a new name, a new life I'm not the same
And a hope that will carry me home
I walked in as, what I thought, a free woman. I wasn't. I walked into a room of women that were free. They know what redemption is. They know what it is to have God change the person they used to be. I WANT that. I WANT that freedom. No longer will I live as if I am chained down by the world. When I walked out, the chains of not living my life in redemption began to fall off.
Praise God!! I AM redeemed. HE set me free. I am NOT the woman I used to be. I WILL live my life in the freedom Christ has given me. No more guilt, no more regrets. I am redeemed.
Praise God, I am redeemed.
And I am thankful.
Love this post. Thanks for sharing from your heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you. It made an impact on me and I hope others have a desire to learn more. I truly had no idea.
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