Cray Cray Crazy

 

CRAY  CRAY CRAZY

 

Today at the jail was difficult. In fact, if I’m being honest, I’m glad everyday is not as difficult or I don’t know if I would go back. My regular “pod” was locked down for fighting (again). Two of the ladies I’ve worked with for over two months picked up “additional charges”. One was already transferred to another facility by the time I arrived. My heart was broken. I thought they had made progress; I thought they were seeking God; I finally had developed a rapport and trust with them.

On the way in, my CO escort made a couple of negative comments about something. I responded with a question, then quoted scripture. He asked if I was “calling him out.” I responded, “No, just speaking truth. If you’re convicted, that’s God not me.” He asked if I was “angry with him.” Why should he care if I don’t approve, but I could tell it mattered to him. He responded, “Maybe you should do church for the guards.”

I arrived in PC (protective custody) to share the word of God with the ladies there. “Church call” the CO (correction officer) called out. Seven women piled into the small “T.V. room”, smaller than my bathroom. Several women were sitting on the floor. I introduced myself and asked them for their names one-by-one. I started sharing from the book of Joshua about Rahab. One woman spoke out, “But Jesus ate the people.” I thought I’d misunderstood. She continued to speak out that God and Jesus eat people. Another stated, “We can’t believe the Bible because the antichrist changed all the words, so it is not true”; her face was covered in stitches; she had been the recipient of the fight on the other side. The female CO would tell me that was the worse fight in five years. Another lady kept talking continually, every other word was taking God’s name in vain and yelling out the F word. Another lady asked for prayer because “the demons are everywhere in the people, the dogs, and the food.”  In this tiny space, with a guard standing at my back continually, I tried to speak above all the “noise” to deliver “truth”.  I kept praying, “Holy Spirit fill me. Give me the words.”  Inside I was cracking but I kept telling myself, “Never let them see you sweat”. I didn’t want them to think for a moment they were getting to me or that I was afraid.

In the hallway as I passed, a man was on “suicide watch”, he had tried to take his life yesterday. Another man, with a huge infection in his leg had medical and sheriffs deciding what care he needed. While standing in the hall, one of the ladies was brought out in handcuffs to be taken to another area; she had “confronted” me aggressively a few weeks prior and another lady inmate had told her “back down”. Now we were alone in the hall with just a CO waiting for her. This time she avoided eye contact.

In short, the place was crazy today. The heaviness was prevalent. How can I bring the word or shine the light of God in this place? For the first time since I’ve been going to this facility, I felt “unsafe.” When I left, I asked my husband, “Do you ever feel unsafe?” His answer surprised me, “All the time”, he continued, “But I don’t feel afraid.”

I wanted to cry out, “Why us Lord?! Why me Lord?! Why addiction and jail/prison ministry? These are TOUGH ministries. I don’t feel equipped. I don’t feel like you’ve got the right gal!”

So tonight, I cling to truth… Galatians 6:9 states, “Let us not lose heart in doing good; for in due time, if we do not faint we shall reap.”  I praise God that in the stress and the heat of that small space, I did not faint… (yes, I do understand that faint in this context means to grow weary but I’m taking it literally today). Isaiah 55:11 states His word shall not return void. In all the mess today, I can only pray that God brought the message and seeds were planted.