Friday 18 June 2010:
Today I wanted to vomit. We were ushered into a small
holding cell between large 16 foot wooden doors with metal bolts and large
locks and a wall of bars through which was visible a large yard filled with
over 600 inmates clad in blue and white stripes. In the middle of the yard was
a wooden table behind which were rows of benches. The inmates formed a large
semi circle around the table. We filed in, boys first and then the girls. I
took my seat in the last row of benches. As I scanned my surroundings I noticed
maybe 10 or so guards at various places around the yard wielding nothing more
than a small wooden baton. Timidity began to set in. I was white and female and
it had probably been a very long time since these men had seen a lady. If these
men wanted they could easily overwhelm these guards and force themselves on our
group. Oh Dear Lord, give us divine
protection. Then I shrank down in my seat, thankful I was in the very back
row, hidden from haughty eyes.
It was then that the Holy Spirit began speaking to me:
“You are going to stand up and speak.”
I wanted to vomit. No way Lord! I have nothing in common with these people!
“You were once a prisoner too,
Kristen.”
Oh yes, that’s right. I was.
“Their sins are no greater than yours.”
After Keet was finished giving her testimony, I stood up. By
this time, God had given me two scriptures, the words to say and calmed my
nerves. I told them some of my testimony, and spoke to them about how I was a
prisoner myself to my own sin, but God has set me free in Christ Jesus. I
shared with them the story of the thief on the cross next to Jesus. At the last
moment he put his faith in Christ. It was not too late for him. It is not too
late for them.
After I spoke, God asked me to invite people into a relationship with him. More
than 10 inmates came forward; a few young men, two older men with wrinkles,
white hair and poor eyes, a man with a hard exterior that melted away and the
like. We went off to the side and there we talked with them about what it means
to give your life to Christ. We laid hands on these brothers, prayed for them,
watched their eyes fill with tears of gratitude and encouraged them with
Scripture. We welcomed them into the kingdom
of God and exhorted them
that today their lives have changed. When I was standing there looking into
their eyes, I forgot I was looking at inmates, I realized I was looking at
brothers. I imagine God was giving me a glimpse into his perspective. When we
put off the old self and put on the blood of Jesus Christ, God forgets we were
once prisoners because he is now looking at us as children, brothers and
sisters with Christ.
When we climbed back into the van to go home our teammates
informed Keet and I that while we were standing to the side with the inmates
they kept looking nervously at us, trying to keep an eye on us and make sure we
were okay. Keet and I looked at each other confused.
“Why would you need to do that?”
“Do you not know? Those inmates were in their for murder, rape and treason. That is why we were ushered in last to sit behind the boys, and why the girls were not permitted to go up and pray for the other inmates.”
I began thanking the Lord that he had blinded my eyes, dulled my mind to the knowledge, and deafened my ears to the truth until now. God knew. He knew I would have utterly refused to stand up in front of them had I known the truth of who they were. He knew I would not have been able to look my new brother in the eyes, or lay a hand on the one who needed healing. God knew. And the whole way home, the words, “Their sin is no greater than yours. Were were a prisoner once too you know.” rang in my heart, and my mind.
