Lives corrected - is rehabilitation possible?

Is rehabilitation possible?  I believe so.

I’ve had the privilege of knowing several inspiring friends whose lives have been transformed.  Their commitment to Christ is humbling.  Among them, an unwed mom who gave up her newborn for adoption decades ago; they celebrated a mutually joyous reunion when he, in his thirties, sought to find her.  By that time her life had taken on a commitment to marriage and family, and she radiated a wise and tender spirituality.

 Tucson sunset - as beautiful as a life corrected?

A newer friend spent 7 years on death row for a crime she didn’t commit.   Since her release she has devoted her hours and days tirelessly to helping women and children in her Englewood community rebuild their lives.

My newest friend did prison time too, for drug and alcohol abuse.  Her reaching out to God came during a period of escape, when God told her to turn herself in so he could use her without her having to worry about getting caught.  Her total commitment to God came, back in prison, as she finished her sentence.  She asked God, “How am I going to keep my sanity for the next 18 months?”  He said, “Write me a letter every day.” 

And she did (write daily letters - of gratitude mostly, and some petitions).  And she did (keep her sanity).  As a side note, she credits her love for Jesus for the fact that she suffered no withdrawal symptoms from the drug and alcohol abuse.  Since her release she's been co-pastor of a church that is dedicated to meeting the needs of a poor Chicago community.

Just as a glorious sunrise promises a fresh and brilliant day, so the bright colors of a declining sun close a day with gratitude.  

Mary Baker Eddy (founder of Christian Science) writes this thoughtful definition,  “A radiant sunset, beautiful as blessings when they take their flight, dilates and kindles into rest.  Thus will a life corrected illumine its own atmosphere with spiritual glow and understanding.”

Staying focused amid distractions

A couple of weeks ago I met a new friend, Jolinda Wade, who is not your typical served-time-in-prison former drug addict.  She turned her life around and is now co-Pastor of an active church that includes running a community soup kitchen.

In the prison segregation unit, for 18 months she wrote a daily letter of gratitude to God which, she said, kept her sane.  Her letters, now published in a book, Divine Grace behind the walls, show her acceptance of His unconditional love, her instant obedience to everything God asked her to share -- with inmates, guards and administration.

One thing that comes across is that life in segregation is free of distractions.  You're in one room 23 hours a day.  No laundry, no grocery shopping, no TV, no phone calls, no emails.  Just, if you so choose, you and God.  You pray and you listen and you do.  She startled herself by thanking God for segregation where she learned to give Him her every moment.

My goal too is to give my every moment, my every thought, to God to be purified.  But I have to ask myself, how well do I deal with distractions?  It takes great discipline of thought to say focused in a gratitude-prayer walk, not to become angry, annoyed, or disappointed. Sometimes it's a struggle.

Gratitude isn’t denial of the injustices all around, so much as commitment to recognizing the good, however small it may seem, as evidence of God present and active.  I can do better!

Thank you, Jolinda, for setting such a high standard.  

Wild Bill's story

There’s a revealing account in a book called “Return from tomorrow,” by George C. Ritchie.  The hero was nicknamed Wild Bill because of the shape of his drooping mustache.  Wild Bill accomplished unselfed love through a conscious decision to forgive his enemies.  Here are some excerpts from that story as recorded by Mr. Ritchie.

 ‘He was one of the inmates of the concentration camp, but obviously he hadn’t been there long: his posture was erect, his eyes bright, his energy indefatigable.  Since he was fluent in English, French, German and Russian, as well as Polish, he became a kind of unofficial camp translator.

‘We came to him with all sorts of problems . . . . But though Wild Bill worked fifteen and sixteen hours a day, he showed no signs of weariness.  While the rest of us were drooping with fatigue, he seemed to gain strength. . . . . his compassion for his fellow-prisoners glowed on his face, and it was to this glow that I came when my own spirits were low. . . 

‘So I was astonished to learn. . . that he had been in Wuppertal since 1939!  For six years he had lived on the same starvation diet, slept in the same airless and disease-ridden barracks as everyone else, but without the least physical or mental deterioration.

‘Perhaps even more amazing, every group in the camp looked on him as a friend.  He was the one to whom quarrels between inmates were brought for arbitration. . . 

‘It’s not easy for some of them to forgive,’ I commented to him one day. . .  ‘So many of them have lost members of their families.’

‘Wild Bill leaned back in the upright chair and sipped at his drink.  “We lived in the Jewish section of Warsaw,” he began slowly, the first words I had heard him speak about himself, “my wife, our two daughters, and our three little boys.  When the Germans reached our street they lined everyone against a wall and opened up with machine guns.  I begged to be allowed to die with my family, but because I spoke German they put me in a work group.

. . . “I had to decide right then,” he continued, “whether to let myself hate the soldiers who had done this.  It was an easy decision, really.  I was a lawyer.  In my practice I had seen too often what hate could do to people’s minds and bodies.  Hate had just killed the six people who mattered most to me in the world.  I decided then that I would spend the rest of my life – whether it was a few days or many years – loving every person I came in contact with.” ’

It's very humbling to ask, "Would I be able to make that decision to remove hate from my life -- by loving every person -- even those who had murdered my children in front of  my eyes?"  This is what Christians of all stripes profess.  Yet Wild Bill was a Jew - and understood exactly the demand Life was making on him.  To not hate.   To live, to truly live and to live truly, he would love.

Some things are better than winning

Rick Reilly's headline says, "There are some games when cheering for the other side feels better than winning."

This is a "feel good" story that happens to be good enough to be true.

I encourage you to Click Here for an uplift to your day.

Geraldine's poems

My friend Geraldine wrote a book of poems. They speak from deep within her heart. Many people write poems, and some of them are heartfelt. What makes this little book different is that she wrote it while on Death Row.

In a travesty of justice she spent seven years on Death Row before the Illinois Supreme Court overturned her sentence due to corruption in the judicial system.

She says the only way she kept her sanity was to know who she was in Christ. And her poems speak primarily of this relationship and how it lifted her above discouragement and depression.

Geraldine learned early on that bitterness, anger, resentment had no place in her relationship with God, and she let them go.

She found a mission within prison, to introduce Christ to women who didn’t know Him. Other prisoners felt her spirituality. Geraldine writes,

“A lady I never knew
asked me who I was.
I turned and looked at her
And as our eyes met, she said,
‘You are here to help us.’

Another time young women thought the Bible was for old people. Geraldine told them that God uses young people because they relate to Him. She told them how:

· Jesus at twelve years astounded the scholars in the temple.
· David the young man slew the mighty Goliath.
· Joseph the teen-ager thrown into a pit became a leader of Egypt.
· She told them about young Queen Esther who risked her life for her people.
· And about the 12-year old girl Christ raised from death.
· About Mary, the young mother of Jesus
· About young Moses the prince, and young Samuel and many others.

Fast forward to 2008. Fortunately there was a support system in place for her when Geraldine was released from prison.

She now works long hours on behalf of her community, getting kids off the street and into school so they can become leaders, not just drifters. She gives them tough-love, and they trust her. When she can find them, she mentors their parents. She has hopes for a Senior Center and an After School safe place for the children to do their homework.

Truly, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” St. Paul

Geraldine found her spiritual freedom while still behind concrete walls. And she brought that freedom with her into her new life.

What can I do?

Goal - to end recidivism in Cook County

The Cook County Sheriff’s Department sponsored a Community Outreach conference this morning. The thriving African-American Apostolic Church of God on Chicago’s south side hosted the event.

I attended because my church in DuPage County received an invitation, and because we have a prison ministry.

This was not another ho-hum run-of-the-mill meeting. Sheriff Tom Dart is a man with a mission, who has a vision for the successful re-entry of ex-offenders into their communities. He sees the churches in these communities as the means for embracing ex-offenders, helping them find housing and jobs, thus keeping them from going back to prison.

One of the speakers pointed out that the Bible is a book about prison ministry. From Joseph in Genesis to John on the island of Patmos writing Revelation, from the prophet Jeremiah to the apostle Paul – in other words, from cover to cover – the Bible is the story of a lot of imprisoned people.

The conference’s passionate and committed speakers deeply touched my heart. The contrast with my relatively secure life was sharp. In my community we tell our kids, if you are lost, find a policeman. In the Chicago’s African-American community, they tell their kids, whatever you do avoid any contact with the police. For this community, police equals jail.

I don’t live where the disproportionate African-American prison population returns when they go “home.” I wondered what I could do for this project.

One thing I can do right now is to put “those imprisoned” at the top of my revised prayer agenda. I can pray that the one Mind who inspires community leaders with re-entry programs also inspires the complete idea for these programs, including support and resources.

Through my prayers I can support the courage of these prison chaplains, and through prayer also bolster justice and honesty within the law enforcement system.

Change has begun in the Sheriff’s Department, and that’s no small accomplishment. God, supreme infinite Mind, overrides fear, indifference and apathy, and provides Her own spokespersons.