From Prison to Praise

From Prison to Praise

I have a friend. She’s been a Christian for all of her adult life.
For the past twenty five years she has been a stay home mom making sure that her children were raised in Godliness and safety.

She’s incarcerated now, for a violent crime. I will not tell you what state she is in or what her conviction was for. Suffice it to say, she does not say, “ I am innocent.”

I’ve been to visit about a half a dozen times. I try to bring her youngest son as often as I can.

When she first went to prison she was terrified
Her transfer to a state facility was no improvement. Yes, there were fewer people in her cell. Now she only had three “bunkies” And there was a bed for her.

For the next 3 ½ years she knew that she would be in danger and that she had absolutely no control over any part of her life. But, she knew that she carried Christ into that place of fear and loathing. And she knew that if she were to survive with her life and sanity intact she must never forget that. Christ became, indeed` her hiding place, her fortress, her shield. In the very beginning she told me that every moment, Every moment, she clings to Jesus, so closely that she can hear his heart beat.


Even before her incarceration date she knew that, after entering into her new life, she would have be a woman of integrity. She must hold her head high, speak only truth, follow only God’s leading when wanting to interact with other prisoners. She must never lie, never be proud, never interfere.

And from the very first day, other prisoners watched her. Would she be a woman of integrity? Could they trust her? Should they trust her? Some have. Many others have not.
But she has been scrutinized, set up and monitored, not just by the prisoners but by the guards as well.

She involved herself in every kind of work that she could find. She became a chaplain’s assistant, joined the choir and became a worship leader. She applied for and was accepted into a paralegal course. Now her spare time is spent answering prisoners legal questions. She has passed an algebra course, at the top of her class. She has learned the “genteel” art of reupholstery, as well as carpentry and plumbing. She sets up the gym for visiting days, plans and monitors exercise programs, works out herself and is learning computer office skills. Basically, every waking hour is taken up with industry. At night she writes long letters to her husband.

But the circumstances of the lives of those around her are living nightmares. Several women she has come to know and support have committed suicide. Fights often end with boiling water being thrown into the face of the loser.

Yet, no one molests her. No one troubles her. She is held in high regard. Everyone knows that she is a Christian. And since her actions back her words, she has many friends and very few enemies.

The last time I spoke to her she told me how the prison guards ask for her prayers. She says they call her, as they would call any prisoner. But when she goes up to one of them she listens to their concerns and prays for them, but in a way that appears as if they are having a conversation. He speaks, she answers, and quietly prays and no one knows. Even the guards themselves do not know that she prays with several of them. They each think he is the only one she prays with.

Never think that her life has been easy. Each day is a huge struggle. And every day she fails in some way. She’d be the first to tell you that.

She still has many months of time to serve. But she is strong in the Lord. Daily, she says, she “presses herself into his palm.” And the lessons I have learned from her are so overwhelming. After she calls, I cry! I tell people at church about her and how well she’s doing and I cry!

I feel so privileged to be a part of her story.

The Terror I May Never Know

The Terror I May Never Know

The television is filled with images of people in desperate despair in China. An Earthquake measuring 7.9 struck that country, in the middle of the morning, on a busy week day. Many of the buildings that collapsed crushed thousands of school children. The populations of entire towns are sleeping out of doors, some, even camping out under umbrellas, for fear that more quakes will happen and more misery added to their lives.

Parents stand on the edges of the rubble that was once their child’s school. They cry and scream out their children’s name but hear only silence. Rescue workers stand nearby, with nothing to do but watch and add their tears, because they must wait for other workers to remove as much wreckage as possible before they can climb inside to pull out the bodies.

I saw footage of Chinese people standing on a train platform. They were experiencing another aftershock. The look of terror and dismay on their faces said more to me than any news commentator could.

I see their fear and can imagine it in my mind. But I cannot know it and I probably never will.

My life has had its share of devastation. I have lost loved ones and seen my children suffer. But there is a difference. I place my faith in a God who loves all people. I believe that each one of those grieving parents brings sadness to my God’s heart.

Because of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, because of his death, I can come before my Father. I can stand in the throne room, beside my savior and know that my Father hears my prayers and desires only good for me and those I love and even those I have never met and yet have included in my prayers.

I cannot reach out to people in China, or Myanmar, or Columbia to bring help and comfort. But there is no doubt in my mind that my prayers, and the prayers of countless others reaches God’s throne and that he hears and acts because we have boldness to come and ask him.

Someday I may be caught in a tornado. I may have the world collapse beneath my feet. I may be caught in a flood that sweeps away everyone I know and love. But if I am the only one left, although I am sure that I would feel terror, loss and uncertainty, I know that I would not be lost. My God is my sun and my shield. He will protect my mind and see me through until I reach past this life and enter into Heaven where he will wipe away my tears and fill me with such gladness that I will no longer remember the devastation of life lived in a fallen world.

And so I pray. And I ask the Father what I can do. And I do what I can. I pray that there will be those who can and will.

I am safe. No matter what happens, I am safe.

Painting the Corvette

Every other Tuesday I volunteer at our hospital. I paint pictures for oncology patients. I've painted everything from the cliffs in Spain, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea to the Little Mermaid statue in Copenhagen Harbor to a fondly remembered park in the city of Newark in New Jersey. I've also painted dogs, cats and horses. Today I painted my first Corvette. It was gold metalic with black trim.

The gentleman that I was visiting with had brought all his paper work and several magazines depicting his beloved car. It obvious that he loved his car! And he was a very pleasant and interesting person.

About halfway through the painting session a volunteer from Pastoral Care stopped in to give him a book of prayers and scriptures and to ask if she could do anything to "meet his spiritual needs" He acted embarrased as he explained that he really hadn't been involved in church for years now.

This is why.
He said that he was a Vietnam vet and that he had started having flash backs. He went to his church and told his priest, asking for help. The priest told him he couldn't help him. That was when he stopped attending church.

As I was finishing up the painting a housekeeper entered his room and I felt that what I had wanted to say should no be spoken in front of her. So I packed up, shook his hand, told him I would be praying for him and then I left.

But I had to go back! I wrote down the names of three different services that I have used in my trip through life. I walked back in to his room and handed him the list. I told him, "It's not the church you go to, or the priest you see. It's knowing that God loves you and that he cares enough to send someone like me to offer help. Feel however you want to about the priest, but don't forget that God loves you." And then I left.

I felt better, exhilarated! I'm so glad that I can be used by God to bless folks! That's what life is all about!

Mother's Day

Mother's Day
There is a blended family that attends my church. There's the handsome youngish husband, the pretty wife and the six teenagers between the ages of 13 and 18, four boys and two girls. They all live together, most of the time.
Today is Mother's Day. This morning, as I parked my car I saw all eight of them disembarking from their two vehicles. Being a friendly person, I walked over to say hello. Halfway across the street it occured to me that Mom was crying. I take that back She was sobbing. Dad has his arm around her and the kids were grouped together several yards behind.
I decided it maybe was not the best time to go over and say," Happy Mother's Day!" Intead I veered back to my side of the street and started to pray.
Dad was trying his best to comfort her and get her to stop crying before they got to the church. She was pretty much too upset to say anything, but I did hear something like, "Does Mother's Day mean nothing?!!"
Later, as worship was beginning to wind up, I walked to the vestibule and found her there, still sobbing. Dad was greeting and handing out bulletins. I put my arms around her and said, "Mother's Day can be such a curse!" I truly did understand where she was coming from. I still don't know what exactly it was that the kids (or kid) did but I can remember when my own offspring totally blew it on the one day each year that I believed should and maybe would be perfect.
I think we moms set ourselves up for failure. A card is nice. A dinner that I don't have to cook is fine. (especially if I don't have to clean up either.) But it really does seem as if it's the one day that the kids will be most selfish, most nasty, most cutting. It's a lot like small children behaving the absolute worst on Christmas Eve.
I will continue to prayfor her. I cannot imagine what it must be like to live in that family situation. But they are a family of faith. Dad and Mom are solidly planted in their Christianitly. The kids attend church, Sunday School and youth group. Of course, I mean that I will be praying for all of them.
And tomorrow? It'll be so much easier to get through, just because it is not Mother's Day.