Not too long ago that invitation was extended to attending a church service for women at the jail.
I had no idea what to expect.
My personality can be pretty big but usually I try to lay low in situations where I am new and a little intimidated.
I walked into the library that was going to be used as a sanctuary. There were at least 60 plus female inmates in the room. Praise music was playing in the background and cheerful conversations could be heard on every row.
I had been asked to come (along with several others) as a prayer partner or counselor.
Sean, the official jail Chaplain, got everyone's attention and began the church service.
I meandered around to the back of the room and found a vacant seat on the very back row.
I only knew a handful of the female inmates. My nosiness kicked in and I found myself staring around the room.
For the first part of the service we had praise and worship.
Music played from Sean's computer and filled the library with praise to God.
These women sang along.
Some ladies stood up....arms held high to heaven...
Some cried and sang quietly in their chairs...
Some sat reverently.
Other ladies took this time of corporate worship seriously and jammed out in praise with those sitting close to them.
What did I do?
This Baptist girl sat and stared.
From my view point I saw women from every cultural background, every age, and every walk of life.
Every inmate wore a jail jumpsuit in bright orange with Inmate stamped on the back.
A few ladies wore lime green jumpsuits because they are on Trustee status. This simply means that they work jobs at the jail.
A small handful of women in the room wore shackles on their feet up to their waists. Obviously these ladies have very serious charges~
Each time they would walk around in the library those shackles would hit the floor reminding us all of where we were. JAIL.
The sight before me was beautiful on so many levels.
I just wanted to marvel at the goodness of God in a jail library.
Each women in the room was an inmate. No one was better. No one was worse.
Each one had been accused of a crime. They were either serving their time or awaiting a court date.
They shared common ground.
The colors of their jumpsuits may have been different and some may have been bound in literal chains....but the truth of who they all were was obvious.
They sat in this church service very much aware of the truth that all of them...each and every one...was in fact a prisoner.
No one compared their Trustee status to that of another.
No one pointed and stared at the girls with chains on their feet....
You know why?
Because they were all INMATES.
The Holy Spirit nudged me in a way only He can and I about came undone emotionally.
This was church at its finest.
People gathered to praise God in the middle of their mess.
It was glorious.
It was honest.
It was in so many ways how it is supposed to be.
The only lovely and boast worthy topic in the room was Jesus.
Those gals knew exactly who they were.
Their sins were exposed simply because they were there.
Everyone in the room was at ease with simply needing Jesus.
I relished in it.
My staring soon changed to praise with my sisters.
I suddenly became completely honored to be in a room with women that could just be honest about the sin struggle.
Their sin struggle and my sin struggle may have different consequences....but SIN, theirs and mine, drove Jesus to the cross.
And in that jail we all celebrated GRACE.
Luke 18 has a few verses tucked into the chapter describing two men going to the temple to pray. One man was very educated in God's law. He did many things outwardly that gained prestige and attention. Yet his prayer to God was one of pride and arrogance.
The other man by comparison was someone despised in the community. His prayer was one of desperation, humility and a cry for mercy.
Oh God I am a sinner that has been redeemed by mercy and grace.
Without the Holy Spirit of God I would continue to live in a sinful cycle.
Let my prayers and praise always be those of a prisoner set free.
1 comment:
That last sentence ... YES!
I ♡ You!
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