This is partially a story about me, but it is mostly it is about my friend Perla. This is a story about God has brought our two lives together.
This month the sky was the limit when it came to ministry options. Our contact said that he wanted us to “do something we were passionate about, and walk boldly where we have never walked before.” In my heart I had a picture of going out with a speaker and teaching truth. Notice that I said going out with a speaker, the speaker would be someone else, not me. The reason I decided to go to the prison was because I heard a rumor that there might be some preaching involved. I pictures one of my teammates preaching, me praying and smiling, and quiet. The first day at the “big” prison I was overwhelmed.
The prisons that we visit here in the Philippines are nothing like the prisons in America. In the woman’s ward 68 women live together in a long narrow room that is probably the size of my parents living and dining room. Compared to the men in prison, the women live like queens. There are 700 men that live in a space that is probably no more than 5 times as big the women’s ward. In the woman’s ward, the two main side walls are lined with bunk beds that face out into the middle of the room. The bunk beds are three begs high, and they are all side by side making them look like one unit instead of individual beds. Each woman keeps her belongings against the wall of her section of the bed.
Filipinos are some of the most hospitable people in the whole entire world. This holds true even in the prisons. When you enter the women’s ward, the women do everything they can to make you feel warm and welcomed. Once I was asked if I wanted coffee, I said sure not really knowing where the coffee would come from. Before I knew it, someone had pulled out of thin air giant Tupperware containers with coffee, sugar, and creamer. Someone else pulled out an electrical hot water heater while someone else pulled out mugs. Before I knew it, I was planted on someone’s bed, drinking coffee, and chatting away in broken English. It felt like I had been sucked into an episode of Hogan’s Hero’s only Filipino women’s style.
During one of our first visit to the prison, I landed on Perla’s bed, only for the first two weeks of our friendship I thought her name was Burla. Perla had been a believer before she came to prison. She frequently talks about her church. One day Perla said to me,
Find out what she said to me in “Strong and Courageous- Part 2″
