Trying to Change

One of my "girls" got out last Friday. We met today and ate a meal together for the first time.
"I'm nervous," she said. "I'm not used to being out. "

I noticed that she had removed the black comb tooth that she had always worn in the hole in her eyebrow.
"I don't wear that in public. In jail it doesn't matter how crazy you look."

I imagined the stress of trying to start it all over again. The longer you're inside, the longer it takes to make it work on the outside. Even her legs are weak. "I climbed the stairs and could barely breathe," she told me.

Her kids are used to a certain routine, and she's not in it. "No one woke me up this morning. I guess they're used to doing things without me around here."

She threw away her cheap cellphone because she didn't want to look at the numbers in it. She didn't want to walk around because she didn't want to see old friends. It's hard to start new.

It's like cutting a board, and starting the groove, then realizing that you're a quarter of an inch off. You've got to start again, but the saw keeps wanting to fall back into the groove.

I know what's happening to her. It's happening to me, too. I am living in the Spirit these days, but every so often the flesh wants to pull me into old patterns of thinking.

She has desire, and she has a new love for Jesus. I'm willing to bet she's going to make it, but it won't be easy. She's going to have to rely on new resources and let the old ones fly. I am going to be there to help her. I believe in her. I see the woman she is in Christ, the one who is going to influence other broken, wandering women down the road. This is what we do.

She and I are growing in Christ. She's a baby. I'm a little further. We are both making discoveries about who we are, and who He wants us to be.

That's what discipleship is about. You learn; you teach. You learn; you teach.

As fast as we are filled, we must give it away. Or we'll explode with love.

This is Why People Dislike Christians, and I Don't Blame Them!

I picked up my friend from a local shelter for homeless men. We went to an Addictions Conquerors meeting (Christian 12 step) and then to a Christian function in town. It was a meeting of ministers, who were expressing a spirit of unity. After the service, a large room was set up for each mission to display their outreach materials. A table filled with cookies lined one side of the room.

After ten or fifteen minutes of visiting the tables, I found my friend near the door, eating a cookie and having some punch. He was standing away from the others, and I asked him to join me.
"I don't do crowds," he told me. But there was something more. After we spoke for a moment, he confided, "You know, I went over there and took a handful of cookies. Two of them fell on the floor, and I laughed and said, 'the ten second rule applies' and I picked them up. And this lady said if I hadn't been so greedy, they wouldn't have fallen."

I was stunned into silence. He went on.

"I had to go right before God and ask Him, 'God? Was I greedy or was I hungry?' I decided I was hungry."

He had a tear in his eye. "It hurt me," he admitted.

I was torn between going to the cookie table and smashing those snickerdoodles right into her face or falling on the floor in agony over the condition of this faithless flock we have become.

We both stood there, looking at one another. Both with tears. His shame; mine anger and compassion combined.

"But you know what?" he said, "This is a blessing in a way. I mean if I had been in the middle of my addiction I would have cussed her out..."

"You were the Christ-follower here," I told him.

"And another thing...I felt hurt!"

I looked at him, not understanding what he was saying.

"I mean, I FELT the hurt. You don't know how long it's been since I felt something like that. I've been hurt alot in my past...in my childhood...and I just stopped feeling. But now I can feel."

Our addictions cover our pain, keep us from pain, but in the end cause more pain. My friend is overcoming his addictions and is beginning to come to terms with all the pain bottled up in there...

We praised God together for using the unkindness of this "Christian" to bring a deeper understanding about how God is making changes.

Still, I am struck with the very picture of this lowly one, coming into fellowship with Christian bigwigs in the community, and being struck down. Had it not been for God's Holy Spirit keeping him clear-minded, it could have been just another sad story of relapse, at the careless words of someone who calls herself a "Christ follower",

And then I am struck with my own propensity for putting my mouth before my thoughts -- blurting out what I think before going through God's Holy Scanner. Note to self.

Behind These Walls, Poem by "Jon", an inmate

Behind these walls, a convict's word is seldom heard.
So please take a minute to feel my words.
These walls can be painful, and they can cause tears,
These walls take away loved ones, these walls take away years.

Behind these walls, 130 months just passed me by.
All because I had this need to get high.
In 1995 my son Mitchell stepped on the scene.
Now I look at him face to face at age fourteen.

Behind these walls you can lose parts of your mind
One day you'll flip, then one day you're fine.
One day family is great, then one day they're dying.

Behind these walls is such a difficult place,
The air seldom works, and the food has no taste.
The toilet won't flush, and you can smell the waste.

Behind these walls you're nothing but a numnber
When the doors slam shut, it sounds like thunder.
The vicious "clank" rattles your head
There is no pillow, and hard plastic for a bed.

Behind these walls, one man can go insane.
Let me be the one to explain, this isn't no game.
There is no way to get back the time that you lost
This is just no way to live; here, behind these walls

What do You Mean I'm Perfect?

It's hard enough when you're "doing well" to believe that you are Perfect in Christ, but imagine wrestling with that concept wearing a bright orange jumper, behind bars.

"Perfect?" they ask me. "What do you mean I'm perfect?" "You don't know what I've done."

No, I don't know what you've done, but I know what I've done, and God knows what I have done. He has seen every ugly thing. He has heard every damning word out of my mouth and floating around in my mind. And yet, He says I am perfect.

"How can we be perfect and still sin?"

I let the question linger in the air. "It can't be."
"But it is"
"Then Christ must have bad thoughts -- "
"No, that's not possible"

"So we must have...like two minds...living in the same body?
"Exactly."

We are Perfect in God's eyes as He looks at us as One with Him, through the blood of His Son who redeemed us through His sacrifice.

We are also flesh. Carnal. Wilted. At risk. Borderline. Unhealthy. Criminal. Selfish. Weak.

Which one do we strengthen? Which one do we feed?

"I'm afraid to leave here, " says one woman. " How will I have the strength I need on the outside?"

"We have only a few choices in here, " says another..."Do you eat the food or not? We don't have to decide if we go to the store, or take out, or cook what we've got, or warm leftovers. We don't have those choices in here. Choices is what makes things so difficult."

God's wisdom is pouring out of them.

"Habits. Choices. This is the background upon which our sanctification plays out," I tell them.

It's time to go. The guard turns the key in the door. We'll have to wait for next week to have the chance to talk this out again.

The Way We Talk

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice and be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving each other, just as God, in Christ, forgave you.

We remind each other of these verses before we begin our meetings. In Ephesians, we get a whole great list of things to remember, in or out of jail, about how to talk with others.

"But we're in JAIL..." there's no way that this is going to happen.

Granted, it's a difficult situation. It's loud and full of emotion, some women are even sleeping on the floor. Funding is low and the place is inadequately staffed. It's dirty and crazy and full of profane language, but Paul and Silas sang in prison, and I told them they could too.

Yeah, what do you understand? I know that's what they want to say to me...

We begin to pray and the power of God's Spirit falls on us all. Prayers for children, prayers for lovers, family, grieving parents on the outside...and then the prayers of strength.

"Help me to stand up for You, Lord."
"Give me the words to say, Lord,"
"Put your armor on me, God."
"Enable me to do this for You..."

There is hope in their words. Suddenly they perceive what they are saying, and the prayers get bolder,

"I will stand for you, Lord,"
"No matter what it takes,"
"No matter what they do..."

To be persecuted for doing what is right -- for doing God's work in the jail -- that's what these men and women are up against.

Pray for them right now, right here with me. Every man and woman behind bars who has come to understand who You are, God. Enable them. Defend them. Protect them.

Amen.

A Group Like This

Does it seem sad to you that a woman would tell me that she would come back to jail just to have the close fellowship that she experiences in our small group? If she had been able to find such a group outside, maybe she wouldn't be incarcerated. God is doing wonderful work in her life. Changes are happening quickly, and she is yielding herself to God's changing power. She is being transformed by the renewing of her mind.

And some of the renewal is due to the group. We meet as regularly as we can -- barring lack of staff, or Christmas holiday interruptions. We welcome each other and remember the rules: Ephesians 4 and 5, don't speak unkindly to each other, don't war, lift each other up. Don't we have enough people trying to make us think we are not much more than garbage, unworthy of transformation? And we look at God's word -- go through a study -- and we pray for each other. And we are real with each other. It is possible to be real and kind, and we are all learning that. When the truth is spoken, it comes down on all who are present.

"I would come back in here if I could. I want a group like this on the outside."

And there is a group for her on the outside, but it won't be the same. Not everyone will understand, not everyone will experience the same things she is experiencing. She may imagine that they are judging her, and I pray that they will not. We accept lies about ourselves when they are on the tip of our own tongues.

So we remind each other of who we really are in Christ. You are God's child. He is a good God. He wants the best for you. You are His sister. He is the first born of many brothers and sisters.

I pray that she will allow herself to ministered to on the outside, and that she doesn't run to her addiction of choice the minute she gets out. Just one minute. Wait one minute and thank God for His mercy. And then thank Him again. And again. And again until all the NOWS merge into TODAY and ALL WEEK LONG and A YEAR FROM NOW.

Pray for those coming out of jail today that they will be able to maintain the decisions they made for Christ on the inside.