This probably wasn't a good idea

"Ben I want to go to prison" were the words in the email. This was from a former youth group student of mine. This 22 year old female. Immediately I had my doubts and all the reasons why this wasn't a good idea, but I asked do you know what you are getting into? After a conversation and a tour of the prison she decided she wanted to go to a class with me.
So yesterday with my psuedo-intern John and Leah we went and taught in prison. I was wrestling with the responsibility and what was going to happen the night before. I was a little concerned never having taken a girl into this enviornment before.
This experience would be my most interesting time up to date. As I prepared them in the car ride over, we covered all the normal dos and donts that go along with visiting a max security prison. I had prepared the inmates the week before and was semi confident that I could trust them to be respectful.
As we settled into the class John so eloquently asked "So who in here is innocent?" I immediately cringed. I appriacted the tolernace the gentleman in the class had. They were patient with niavity and interesting questions. They joked, conversed, and had serious moments in the class. They were perfect gentleman until one asked Leah what her sign was. As the class came to a close and I started to relax a little, one of the guys asked Leah "How have you handled adversity in her life?" She began by sharing about her dad dying in the last year due to cancer. She then went on to share about the struggles she had with an emotionally abusive boyfriend and doing somethings that she wanted to save for marriage. During this time she broke down and started crying. John and I looked at each other not knowing what to do. One of the guys spoke up "hey why dont one of you two give her a hug since we aren't allowed to touch her."
"Another got some toilet paper and gave it to me to give to her to wipe away her tears."
As the tears stopped Leah went on and shared how due to her relationship with her boyfriend she had become depressed and had difficulty communicating with her dad before he died and how there were things she wanted to say and tell him all abot what happened.
I had no idea all that was in her, a few of the inmates reassured her that her dad loved her and was proud of her.
One of the older gentleman shared how his daughter had an abortion and done other things that he didn't agree with but he still loved her.
Leah ended the class by singing a song (she is an opera major in college).
I didn't know what to think, say, or do. This had changed course and the men in the class became compassionate, encouraging, and helpful. This wasn't at all what I expected.
As many other surreal moments this one ended with us shaking hands with all the guys and them giving inspirational words to Leah.
Not knowing exactly what these guys thought of the time, I asked one of the men about his thoughts in front of the head of the program. This white late twenties guy was pretty excited. He said "Leah's story changed my mind on my time here in prison. I was just passing time and waiting to get out and sell drugs again. Now after listening to her made me think of my daughter and thinking about my relationship with her."
Who knows if that will really change him or not. I would be more confident bringing in another female in again. There is always the possibility of something going wrong, but the way they resinated with her story and showed mercy and care moved me. One of the tough young guys, tatooed hardened commented as Leah was crying, it is ok we all cry from time to time.
Taking risks like this is hard, if it go wrong many people say I told you so (and deservedly so) but the experience John, Leah, and I experienced was priceless and seeing inmates as human beings is something I would want everyone to experience.

I'm a meth cook

"I have only one skill, and I am damn good at it." Were the words of the inmates mouth. The 40 something scraggily hair, unkept clothing, and a traces of a goatee then went on to say- "the only thing I can do well is cook meth." "Last time I was out, I tried to stay clean. I got a job for $7 an hour and then some of my old buddies found me. They dropped the ingredients for meth on my table and said just make it this one time for us. We know how good you are and no one comes close to cooking it up like you. So I did it, and then they sold some of it. The other clients were hooked, they wanted more. My buddies came back to my house laid $3,000 on my table and said give us all you have. That lured me right back in."
He then asked "how can I stay away from this lure?"
He knows the consequences of what happens if he doesn't. He is going to be a fifty something when he is done serving his time in prison.
I am asked on a weekly basis - do these guys really want to change? When I looked in the mans eyes into his soul I could see the desire. But I wouldn't bet a huge amount of money that he will change. The lure is to great. He is not going to do anything better than a $7-$10 an hour job. His best skill is creating an illegal substace. How does that transfer into making his life better?

Doc piped up at this point in time in the class. "I was good at what I did also. I robbed banks. I was taught by a professional and that was my skill. But you know what else I am good at? We all looked and could only imagine what the next words would be. I am good at washing dishes. I don't care what I have to do I am not coming back to prison."

Change is so hard for all of us, but for people who have made a lifestyle of illegal activity it so difficult to change. I asked yesterday how many guys had held a legitimate job before? Almost all of them raised their hands. But selling drugs, pimping woman, robbing banks, doing who knows what else makes much more money than a legitimate job.

Sacrificing the temporal for long term is hard for most of us. Discipline and deciding to forgo the short term money for long term success is a hard decision for most of these incarcarated men.
Most of them will go back to what they were doing, even though many have found God in a meaningful way. The draw is too strong, the alternatives are much to hard.

I don't have a whole lot of solutions, there are things that would need to happen on a large scale level to change what happens in our inner cities and the culture that these men grow up in.
There would need to be changes in individual middle class lives and changes in our culture also.

I am beginning to see more and more patterns emerge from men I meet in prison. Choosing a path of crime is a normal occurance in their families and friends. For the most of us we don't know criminals, most of our family members go to college have jobs and live fairly normal. Doing illegal activity is not really an option that we entertain. We don't see this modeled.

Recently I observed a man running from the police and hiding in his home. His kids were there to see it. This now becomes an option for them, whether conciously or sub consciously running from the police is an ok act because my father figure did it.

I am naive and I continue to learn and see how people grew up differently than me and how it does effect there long term outlook on life.

At the end of class the meth cook with hope in his eyes asked me do you know people who could give me clothes, help me find a job, or feed me after I get out? I had to laugh because I wondered is this man asking me or is Jesus asking me.

Journeying together

Guessing what was coming next I asked- did he get in trouble for graffiti? Those were not the right words to say as I listened to the reason his son had been sent to the youth detention center. I was not expecting what I heard next- "no it is very embarrassing my son was arrested for some inappropriate actions he had with his brother. " I wasn’t carrying on a conversation with someone that didn’t know God or was far from the church. Rather this was a close dear friend who loved God and did his best to bring up his children the same way.
I am at a loss- when I say and desire to be in people’s live do I really know what that means? Superficial relationships are easy, there is no dirtiness, no hurt, no pain. How many more people are dealing with deep issues but we aren’t there to listen? How many of the close people we go to church/small group with are dealing with life shattering issues? When we ask people how they are doing- what do we do when they respond honestly?
I am coming closer to believing that most people I come in contact with have serious issues. Maybe I am involved in abnormal people’s lives. I would say I am not scared when I hear situations like this but I am. I don’t know what to say to my friend. I don’t know what can be said that his family will never be the same. I am not even worried about saying words of wisdom but rather comments that are insensitive.
It is easy to not get involved in these type of situations. All we have to do is say pat simple answers, leave it in God’s hands and walk away. Of course God is in control and God is with them always. But does that mean that we get to walk away? Does that mean that they don’t need others on this horrible journey? Is that our job as Christians to fix things? If situations don’t change do we walk away?
I have way too many questions and not a lot of answers. This morning I saw how this walking together looks like. I was in Porter county jail doing baptisms for some recent converts of Jesus and one of the girls shared her story with us. She has pleaded guilty to a crime and she is looking at a 30-year prison sentence. The crime she plead guilty to was causing the death of her child. She is from Arkansas had only lived in Porter County for a month before becoming incarcerated. She has a fiancee (who she had moved up here to be with) is contemplating whether to stay with her or not. It seemed from our conversation that her relationship with family was not good. The hospital chaplain had done the funeral for her son that was the only "religious person" she knew in Indiana. No one was walking this journey with her.
Then came Amy. Amy came to Christ while she has been locked up. Her crime in our eyes is not nearly as severe. Even in the penal system inmates are very judgmental of each other and a person that kills their own child is not looked at with fondness or compassion. Amy stepped out of her comfort zone to walk with this young woman. Helping the least of these is not easy in any setting. Amy has shared, led a Bible study, and introduced this girl to Jesus. Amy has walked the journey with her. Even with scrutiny, and raised eyebrows from others Amy has walked with a person that Jesus loves and wants to have a relationship with.

I believe this is what we are called to: walking with other people and steering them in the direction of Jesus’ love, grace, mercy, and justice. As I walk this journey with others my faith comes in knowing that God will do the fixing,

I just get to enjoy others as we walk this path. Please be in prayer for the family who is dealing with this situation with the son in youth detention and the girl who is struggling with the concept of forgiveness for what she did to her child in jail.

Friendship learned from children

She jumped off the bus, missing the last two stairs. This was an important day, one she had been looking forward to for a while. This was the first day she was having a friend over. It had been so difficult for her to concentrate in school that day. Even though the day was rainy and cold the weather would not diminish her joy.
She had been over to other classmates houses but never had she had one over. Her plans for the hour play date were to play with everything she owned. They were going to play with dolls, dress up, connect four, eat, and anything else she could think of.
The short walkup the driveway was covered in 4 steps as the little girls ran into the house. She wanted to give her friend the rules of the house so she showed her where to throw her book bag, coat, and shoes.
Snacks came first, by three in the afternoon hunger had built up since lunchtime. First grade was much tougher than kindergarten, no more snack time, or rest time in the afternoon. Today’s snack time is extra special- ice cream. Like everything else that happens this afternoon- it is fast, loud, and talking about future plans.
After ice cream the next stop is the dollhouse. This little girl is so proud to parade out her best toys. The friend doesn’t live in a house like this. Although this house is not big by any stretch is it is bigger than where she lives. As they are playing with the doll house the talk turns to brothers and sisters. The friend shares how she has close to 10 brothers and sisters but only two live with her because the others are just stepsiblings.
The hour and half goes by quickly and is fairly normal other than the little brother greeting the girls in his knights outfit and then being sad when the girls didn’t want to play with him.
The time was winding down and it was time to bring the friend home. The sugar buzz from the ice cream had worn off and the excitement had taken its toll. The talk was much more subdued and the conversation turned to when they would go over to the other house.
Even with all the differences the girls didn’t care. One lives in a subdivision the other in a trailer court. One is Hispanic and the other Caucasian. One does very well in school and the other has been labeled with a learning disability. My daughter is the one with the learning disability. Friendship is much simpler and possibly even easier when we are young.

A Mother's Journey

The fear was someone would find out. People would think she was a bad mother, it was her fault that 3 of her kids were sitting in the county jail. The press was hounding them- they had to move. So they moved to a different town in a different county. For 5 months she kept the secret, not her neighbors not her co-workers, not even her pastor knew about her kids. They were under the impression that she only had one son.
All the pain, all the feelings of inadequacy, all the financial strain, all the worry sat squarely on this moms shoulders. Shame and pain kept her from letting others in. Lack of resources kept her three kids ages 19-23 locked up.
Then one day during a time outside her neighbor asked how long her husband had been doing wood working. The mother thought and in typical mother fashion she measured time by the ages of her kids. Then she did what she had been so careful not to do for five months she mentioned her daughters name.
It came out by accident,she hoped that the neighbor had not heard. The neighbor immediately picked up on the name and puzzled asked who this girl was. The mom was fearful she had liked the neighbor and the relationship that had blossomed. This neighbor had also invited them into a church community that they had felt comfortable in. The mom knew that the next few minutes could change this relationship.
She sighed and then told the story of her three other children. It wasn't that she was ashamed of these kids as much as she was scared of the judgment and the label that would come from people knowing. She still loved and cared for her 2 boys and daughter who are looking at 8 year prison sentences.
She knew that any type of explanation of the crime would not do justice. She knew that her kids would be judged on this one act rather than anything good they had done.
As she told the neighbor, tears swelled up in the neighbors eyes. She softly said "I wish I had known.I wish I had known so I could have been a support to you." That was the beginning of this mom's journey into sharing her pain. The neighbor encouraged her to share the story with the pastor and the church.
The mom was still very hesitant, she had been down this road before with the church and it hadn't always turned out good. But the neighbor had reassured her that this church cared and would want to walk the journey with her.
Being a small church- Sunday mornings involve a time of sharing at the end of the sermon. The mom scared and worried all week about this moment summoned the courage to stand up and go to the front. Her and her husband slowly walked down the aisle to the front. The pastor's message that Sunday had been on grace and forgiveness. There had been a few points that morning that had pierced her heart. There was a still soft voice that reassured her that these were people I can share and not hide my pain from.
As she and her husband began to share their story, eyes began to tear up. People began surrounding them with open arms of support. The pastor said many reassuring words that they would not be alone anymore with their pain. As the time began winding down a young couple came forward and asked if they could share something. The pastor not knowing what to expect granted them to speak.
This young couple began very uncomfortable and red faced. They then shared how they were not married, they were planning on it but had not made the commitment yet. They had made a bad decision and how she was pregnant. The couple like the mom had been hiding this inside due to the fear of judgment and insensitivity. The couple paused after dropping this bomb shell. They went on to explain that they had thought about other ideas of how to cover this up, but couldn't. The pastor tears running down his eyes again just hugged the couple.The couple were crying, so sad they had let so many people down, they just kept repeating sorry. The pastor just hugged them back not having any words to say.

Community- A lesson from Prison

Who can I confied in? Who will I allow to speak into my life? Who will say those things that I need to hear?
Community is a concept many of us like much more than the reality. From my own experience as long as things are good we enjoy people, we enjoy others speaking into our life for encouragement or helping with wisdom. We like it when we are affirmed that we are making the right choices.
What happens when we aren't making the right choices? Being misguided is somethign that we as humans are very good at. It is very easy for us in our minds to convince ourselves that something is a great concept when reality it is not.
I have had some "great" ideas and concepts in my lifetime, great inventions, ideas that could save the world. No I have not won the nobel peace prize and the no one is calling me for advice on my vast knowledge. Of course these ideas were not great but I could not see that for myself. If left on my own my misguidings could lead to my ruin. I have grown to appriciate the wisdom and bluntness that many of those in my circle of friends have given me. It is not always fun and there have been some rough conversations through those times.
It is because of my experience in this area that I have encouraged the men in my class I teach in prison to try to find some others to find community with. In my teaching at prison I have brought this subject up numerous times only to be told that while in prison you keep to yourself and only tell what information needs to be told. If men in ISP were only staying there for a few months I could understand (I don't fully understand and this may just be one of my "great" ideas.but this is home for the next 20+ years of life for the majority of them.
I am pretty passionate about community and last week when I was talking through living a life of faith, I was asked about how I did it? I told them the gist of the above and that I had real hard time doing it on my own.
One gentleman about 40 said "man, I want to do that. But all my life I have choosen the wrong people to trust. I grew up on the streets and the people I trusted help me in making bad descisions and now I am here."
This other inmate said "when I was on the streets I use to blow everyone else off and not listen to anyone. I would punch people if they said something I didn't want to hear, but now after being in the joint for 15 years. I have allowed a few guys to speak into my life and it has helped me so much.
Looking around the room it was almost like this inmate had found the holy grail. Everone else in the class was glued to his every word. They wanted and needed this type of community but were so scared to trust.
I don't understand prison life, but I do understand the fear and not wanting to open up oursleves to others. The questions those men asked last week were not unique to prison but rather questions we ask ourselves many times. It was just a different context than most of us experience.
I had lunch with a guy last week, who told me I don't have any friends. I am in management in the business I work in, and I don't know many other people. Is this common? Probably a lot more than we realize. Community takes work,and sometimes we are too scared or too prideful to allow it to happen.

The economy- from the view of a prisoner

"I want to change, I don't want to do what I have always done. Every idea I have on how to make money is illegal."
That was the beginning of a frank and honest conversation with my class this week in prison. In a world that has kept moving while these men are paying their price for their crimes , they try and enter back into the world.
Many of these men entered prison before cell phones or the internet was such a intricate part of our fabric. They joked how the last cell phones they remember are the ones that where the size of my forarm and weighed as much as a dumbell.
These men are not just spending time paying for their crimes, they will be paying for their crimes for the rest of their lives. It is not reasonable or realistic to think that they will be getting jobs in our current economic climate. Even for those who desire to change their ways if there is a stack of a few resumes on an employers desk the one with a felony on it gets discarded first. (not that is wrong but that is reality).
I had a young african american male who was in his mid twenties look me in the eye and ask why should I even try? This kid who is mid twenties is in prison for selling drugs. He has learned how to read, and has been in programs to help himself while in prison, he will be coming out in the next year, he wil lbe joining our community. His contacts are other "street thugs(his term)", he doesn't know many "straight people."
He has done well, but he is going to be without friends, money, or anything else when he gets out. (This story is not unique). Unless something miracoulous hapens he will go right back into the same enviorment he was in. He then asked why shouldn't I spend my time trying to become a better criminal?
There was such honesty and sincerity in the question, this is all he has known. He comes from a dad who was also a criminal and his support system is not much at all.
It is up to him, he comes out of prison alone. He doesn't have a strong personality,he is shy I am sure just by my interactions with him he is a follower. He doesn't stand a chance. I do not have any ideas or formulas to solve this problem but rather help us realize that even though many people especially african american males spend time in prison pay their debt. They also reemerge into society and when they get out we do not great them with anything but disdain and so many hurdles that is almost impossible not to go back to what got them in trouble in the first place.