Thursday, November 22, 2012


I headed up to Woodman State Jail today and well, found out I wasn't scheduled to be there so the week kinda got messed up on me. The hard part of prison ministry is "getting into the prison" at times. The harder part is getting your heart to move the rest of your body when it doesn't want to go but it knows there are 40+ ladies depending on you! That's where I am that mental place where its hard to do the right things because things aren't exactly going right your way!

Maybe you've experienced this? My heart knows I need to "feed" His sheep with as much teachings as I can while the pocket book smiles docilely up at you saying "gas money, no such thing here!" And you take a big deep breath, call each credit card to check for any open balances and then check your bank account one more time. And it's the holidays only you have no holiday spirit in you, just a lot of doldrums because like it or not, all you can think of is your own lousy situation.

Then you remember you're in ministry and you plant that fake smile on and you take out the last twenty from the "there's goes our Thanksgiving" envelope and you do what you know you should do! Go out and spend time with those so much less fortunate than we.

Because there are some. There are folks out there who have lost homes, family, their freedom, their ability to be with or call a relative. There are those who are listening not for car doors to let them know the family has arrived but for rocket fire above their heads. There are those who are behind bars who weather every storm with a Chaplain and a few clergy who give their time once or twice a week doing all we can to encourage, uplift, teach and share so that their lives might take a turn in a direction other than the one they walked in from, just this last time.

We know each of us can think of a reason to be sad, or feel less fortunate than another. We know we get covetous of friends or family who appear to have more. We get jealous at all those out during Black Friday who can afford to be there! Afford to be spending while we can't. And we begin to mope around like a baby, whining over little things and forgetting the big things.

Then I got home, to be greeted by a letter from "Rickey", an inmate on death row down in Florida. To say I had forgotten about him is a gross overstatement, I had not. To say it had been far too long since I've written him is a gross understatement! Rickey and I connected back in 2007 when he was sitting on death row for the murder consummated during a drug deal gone bad over 23 years ago. He was 18 at the time and was then in his early 40's. Today he's in his mid-40's and grateful for every day.

When I started writing Rickey he said he understood I was a good Christian woman and that was fine, he was just looking for someone to write to and a friend who would hear his story. Today, as he sits in county jail, facing over a two year battle there for a re-sentencing hearing, he talks about praising God and thanking God for each new day, another day he has been given.

You see, Rickey understands the joys of seeing a sunrise and knowing today is not "that day". He understands the value of a mailed letter with a story inside he can read and enjoy. He understands the value of a small gift of time or a few dollars on his books to buy pens and paper to keep up his own correspondence and he knows the joys of an extra dollar for a soda this month.

I think as I start out tomorrow and I think about our year, I'll think about that instead of the things I've been ticking off in my head of what I don't have. I think I'll reconsider my life in terms of his life and how sometimes I'm just a whiner, what God must think of that! Indeed!

Most of all, I'll look around the room and remember that though this may not be my perfect Thanksgiving, it is the one I have been given and I should be happy and rejoice in it.

There is joy everywhere if we just slow down, listen, wait and be amazed at it when it appears.

May God joyfully bless you this Season of Praise and be with you throughout the coming year.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Sunday, November 4, 2012

They are not forgotten.

Time is something we take for granted. I assume every morning that I will wake up to continue doing my doings. Arrogant, isn't it? When I see that it's been since July for a new blog to post, I am amazed and wonder where the time has gone! Ridiculous. No excuses. Just ineffective use of my time! You see, I spent a lot of time at Woodman State Jail in Gatesville, TX ministering to the women in our Faith Based Dorm. I spend a lot of time reading, sometimes studying; not enough time in the Word (and that's my confession to you!). I spend a lot of time with family, friends and crafting either at retreats or our monthly crops. But I have failed to keep you informed with our ministry and most importantly sharing the many stories that I have promised you; stories that help us understand better "the least of these my brethren" that Jesus asks us to care for and love. And it is the "least of these" I teach, meet with and share a good part of my week with as I go along. I have a dorm of 30-50 women who are hungry for a relationship with the Lord. I have challenges and difficulties each time I make the hour and fifteen minute trek up there. I counsel women on their faith walks, I counsel them on accepting their time inside, I counsel them on family problems including illnesses and deaths while they serve their time. And sometimes I just sit and listen as they talk. It is in those times I am reminded of my time inside the walls that keep out the world. I remember having no one familiar to share my deepest pain with; the pain of losing custody of my sweet daughter and the heartbreak this brought to my son. I remember having to turn to a stranger; a clergy who would let me talk and who would ultimately allow me the security of a place to go when I had no where to go.
I am reminded that life outside those walls went on; I would call my father and he would not have time to talk because he was headed to dinner with his wife. I remember letters that didn't come. I remember my son moving to Houston just after his sister so he could keep close eye on her because he has always felt responsible for her. I remember knowing that life did go on and I was in a place where life became mail call, chow and tv schedules; but little else. And I am reminded that Paul said "Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body." (Hebrews 13:3) for they are a part of the church. I remember Jesus' words, "35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers,[a] you did it to me.’" (Matthew 25:35-40) But just because I find myself busy does not mean that the ladies I serve do not deserve to have their stories told and while I visit them at least twice a week almost every week, I am aware of them as individuals. I am aware of them as lives with stories. I am aware of them as women seeking, stumbling and getting back up, when sometimes their burdens and tears weigh them down.
So when I'm absent, know that I am with them. My story and theirs will be back as I put more time into this blog and others. I will share my heart and theirs. All I ask is that you pray for this ministry, me, and all the women we serve. We all need you to agree with us in prayer to our mighty God who hears our pleas and loves us all. May the God of grace and mercy cover your life with His love.

Books worth a look