One of our last days in Peru we made a visit to the women’s prison. Our ministry contacts had been trying for a while to gain access to this prison and to have an opportunity to share the Gospel with the inmates and connect their families to a local church. Upon arrival, the guards were hesitant to let all 30 of us in and the process took well over an hour, just waiting outside the gates. Once we were allowed in, we walked through four walls of concrete and barbed wire, were frisked and had to leave our passports at the door.
This was a high security prison for murderers and drug mules and security was not taken lightly. Another hour and a half went by before the women came in – well over 500 hundred women of all ages. Some of the women had young children with them. We learned that if a baby was born while the mother was incarcerated, she was allowed to keep him/her for the first 5 years.
Eventually, we were given the stage and had the opportunity to perform dances (which my team never learned because we were on kitchen duty that week), share the Gospel message, sing Amazing Grace, perform a skit, and then pray for the women, one-on-one.
As the Gospel message was being shared, God brought my attention to a woman in the front row. Initially, she sat among her peers and seemed uninterested in why we were there. However, as the word was being shared, I saw the Holy Spirit moving in her. Her ears held on to every word and I watched as her tough exterior melt away, tears filling her eyes.
All 30 of us gringos stood in a line, waiting for any of the women to come up and receive our humble prayers. A couple women stood in front of me – I placed my hands on their shoulders and asked the Holy Spirit to move in their lives. I knew they couldn’t understand the English words I prayed, but was fully confident that each woman could feel the presence of God.
I eagerly waited for the woman who caught my eye to come up and receive prayer, but she didn’t. She remained seated – trying to save face and her tough exterior amidst her peers. But God kept putting her on my heart. Boldly, I stepped toward her and caught her eye. “Puedo orar para ti?” (“May I pray for you?” – in my best Spanish accent).
She somewhat hesitantly came forward, her peers somewhat chastising her as she did. I began to pray. Again, I asked the Holy Spirit to be bigger than my lack of Spanish, praying she might understand the words that God had for her.
You are God’s daughter. He chose you. You are forgiven. You are loved.
You are loved. You are loved.
I opened my eyes. Tears were streaming down her face and her whole presence was lighter, as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Thank you.”
“You speak English?” I was shocked, suddenly realizing she understood my every word and prayer for her.
“Yes.”
We spoke a bit more and I heard some of her story. Vanessa is from Spain, 26 years old and has a young daughter whom she hasn’t seen in 5 years. She has 2 more years left in prison.
God spoke to her that day.
As we prepared to leave the prison, the administration approached us and thanked us for coming. They were touched and now will gladly welcome back future groups from our contacts.
Lord, thank you for using us. Thank you for the work you have begun in Vanessa and the other women at the prison. Continue to speak to them and change them, Lord. Help Vanessa to become a light in that prison. May all who know her see a difference in her because of what You are doing in her life. God, thank you for being bigger than language barriers.
