August 2006

Today I worked for most of the morning as well as for much of the afternoon in the prison's main recreation yard in order to help set everything up for tomorrow's Christian family day event. About fifteen men, including myself, had volunteered to put up the large canvas tents that are needed to shelter everyone from the sun. We all took our turns holding up different sections of each tent while several other men used their sledgehammers to bang the steel support spikes into the ground. Then we had to gather approximately two hundred metal folding chairs plus dozens of portable dining tables from a storage area where they were then transported by wagons to the yard.

All totaled it took more than six hours to do this. It reminded me of working on a construction site, too. And even though I was exhausted afterwards, it felt good and invigorating to have labored in the fresh air.

At three o'clock, however, when it was time to return to my living area for the day, I was given permission by the correction officer on duty to take a hot shower. It was just what I needed. Nevertheless, I'll be back in the recreation yard early tomorrow morning as we get ready for our family members and friends to come. Upwards of 200 people are expected. It's going to be a long day!

D.B.

As is the custom for every first Saturday in the month of August, and with the permission from prison officials, my church congregation had our annual Christian Family Day event in the facility's main outdoor yard.

The weather was perfect as almost 150 people - inmates and their families and friends, our ministerial volunteers, and about twenty members from the Manhattan Grace Tabernacle Church in New York City - joined together to worship God, eat, and have fellowship.

Because my chaplain is taking a leave of absence in order to attend to a medical situation concerning his wife, I had to cover for him. I opened the event with prayer while another prisoner directed the event as well as translated everything into Spanish. We also gave out specially made plaques in memory of two dear ministers who gave many years of their lives to share the love of Christ with us here at the prison.

The entire gathering, therefore, was dedicated to Benny Baerga, a devout Christian and former inmate who, after his release from prison, served God for eighteen years before dying of cancer in October 2005 at the age of fifty-one. Benny attended Times Square Church in New York City, and was employed as a counselor at the Bowery Mission in lower Manhattan. He would come to Sullivan Correctional Facility in his spare time to teach the Bible. He left behind a wife and two children.

In addition, we also dedicated the day's event to Reverend Jacinta Torres, whom we affectionately called "Mom." Sister Torres would come to the prison once per month, along with her husband, Pastor Anabel Torres, to conduct a Monday evening worship service. They would drive here from Brooklyn. Our beloved "Mom" died in her sleep while she was reading her Bible. Every year Sister Torres would also travel to Central America to do missionary work. Her loss was felt by all of us. And both Pastor Torres, and a friend who came in behalf of Benny Baerga, were thrilled with the surprise plaques. The plaques, which were quite large, were made by one of the members of my congregation who works in the facility's Building Maintenance shop.

I, however, had invited my friend, Dan Nicholls, to come as my guest. Dan is a retired school teacher who lives in New Jersey. Both he and I volunteered to serve the meals to everyone in attendance. Approximately fifteen other men helped too.

Then, when the five hour event was over, all our guests, including my friend Dan, were escorted by a team of correction officers out of the yard, and then out of the prison. Meanwhile I had to work as part of the "cleanup crew." We had to pick up all the garbage, put away the chairs and tables, and take down the tents and drag them back to the storage area which was a distance away. It was quite an operation. And it took about ninety minutes to complete.

But the last part of the day's affair was the dreaded and highly embarrassing "strip-search."

As per the standard procedure, immediately after a prisoner finishes his visit, either with his family members or friends, he must be strip-searched. All his clothing as well as body cavities must be checked. This is something every inmate who attended today's event had to endure, and I was no exception.

So when our work was completed and I and the other cleanup crew laborers were done putting everything away, we were ushered into a nearby building where a team of guards awaited us. And, once inside, we took turns going behind a makeshift screening area where we had to take off our clothes, one piece at a time, and then hand each piece to a guard who would carefully examine it for contraband, this being, anything an inmate might be trying to smuggle into the facility.

And when it was my turn to be searched, after my clothing was checked, the next step was my body. So under the watchful eyes of a correction officer, and in accordance with his verbal instructions, I lifted my hands into the air to show him my underarms. Next I bent head forward so he could check my hair and also look behind my ears. I then had to lift my testicles. Next I opened my mouth in order for the guard to peer down my throat. Then I was told to turn around with my back to the officer and show him the soles of my feet. This is so he could make sure that nothing was taped to the bottoms. And the last step in the routine was to "bend over and spread your cheeks." A quick peek by the guard up my rectum revealed nothing, however, other than what's always been there.

Finally, when the strip-search was finished, I was told to get dressed and go back to my housing unit. And when I did so, I was able to take a shower. It felt great being able to stand under a stream of water after a full day's work in the hot sun. But the best satisfaction, I believe, came from knowing that many hearts were touched by God's love. Likewise, many kids were made happy having spent the day with their dads.

D.B.

Note: For a description of last year's family event see "Family Day". In addition, this year we had approximately two dozen less people in attendance, but 2006 was still a good turn out.

I believe we would be fooling ourselves if we thought these are joyful and prosperous times that we're living in. Rather these are desperate times when many people are suffering in a myriad of ways. And for Christians, if we remain honest, we could attest that our faith seems to be getting tested to the maximum.

Speaking for myself, I seem to go from one problem to another. Then, when one problem gets resolved, a different one crops up in its place.

And with this in mind, during today's chapel service, before the minister came to the pulpit to give his sermon, I felt led to speak to the flock for a handful of minutes in order to give both them and myself an exhortation about being "good soldiers" for Jesus Christ.

So I first read a small portion from the Apostle Paul's second letter to his beloved spiritual son, Timothy, who was a young pastor in the making. I then read a brief message which I wrote this morning shortly before sunrise. For as I was sitting on my bunk the Holy Spirit stirred me to get a pen and a piece of paper and write the following:

"We're living in very desperate and perilous times. And I believe that the Lord Jesus is calling each of us into a deeper and stronger relationship with Him.

This is not the time, my brothers, for the typical, mediocre, 'business as usual' approach to Christianity. For we are living in a critical period of the Church's history, and at a time when many have grown spiritually cold. They're also indifferent to Christ's mandate to preach the gospel to every person.

In the United States of America, at least, many of us are content to stay cloistered with the walls of cozy church buildings rather than doing the work of soul winners, and going out along the highways and hedges in order to find the lost and compel them to come to Christ for salvation. We've been omitting the Lord's 'Great Commission,' and we're instead settling for our self-made religious safety zones. And this should not be.

My brethren, as the world drifts towards increased wars, acts of terrorism and disease, and as false prophets and teachers flourish, we need to be more grounded in our faith, and in the knowledge of the Word of God than ever before."

D.B.

This morning we had another God-directed worship service in the chapel. The best part of the approximately 90 minutes event, however, was when we had our alter call. As the preacher gave the invitation one individual came forward to confess that, as of this moment, he was placing his faith in Jesus Christ. Up till now he had been a devout Muslim who had been following the teachings of Islam.

To protect his identity I will not reveal his name, nor will I give any details about him. Nevertheless, he has been a popular and well respected member of the prison's Muslim community.

Furthermore, I learned afterwards that it was one of the members of my congregation who had been sharing his faith with him. And today, for the first time, this man came to the chapel. And while the minister was giving the message, this man made the decision in his heart that he was going to place his faith in Christ, which he did. Then, when the altar call was made, he came forward and announced it to the church. As a result, the more than fifty men in attendance broke into spontaneous applause. We gave God thanks, and when the service was finished, we took turns embracing him.

I have no doubt that there was joy in heaven today. There was much joy in our little church, too.

D.B.

After a prolonged heat wave with very high humidity, almost overnight, it seems, the weather has become nearly perfect with evenings that are cool enough for me to need a light sweatshirt. And it won't be much longer before my favorite season is here. When autumn arrives the leaves will of course begin to change their colors. While at nights the faint smell of wood smoke will waft into the air as folks from nearby towns start up their woodstoves and fireplaces on chilly evenings.

But aside from this, today my heart was filled with an all-encompassing joy. God answered a prayer of mine, and on this special and wonderful day I was treated to a priceless gift from Him.

Now, however, shortly before bedtime, my heart is very happy and my soul is at rest. I only wish there would be more days like this one, and I am believing by faith that there will be.

D.B.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, when my work assignment was done, I was permitted to go outdoors for about an hour. It felt good to walk in the fresh air on such a stunning and gorgeous day.

And while I was in the recreation yard I happened to run into several men from my congregation. We then began to walk together. But as we were doing so I became aware of the deep brotherly love I feel toward these guys. For here were individuals, like myself, who committed crimes and did bad things. Yet at some point during our lives God was able to penetrate our hard hearts so that we would hear the gospel, and believe it.

Moreover, as I listened to these prisoners talk about their hopes, dreams and day-to-day struggles, something continued to stir deep within me. It was a good feeling, however. It was also a recognition that even in this place of darkness and evil - a maximum security prison - God has somehow brought us together, a group of men from diverse backgrounds, so that He might teach us how to learn to love, live, work and grow together as a holy family. The Lord Jesus, I believe, wants us to excel in every area of our lives.

Thus I consider myself privileged to be around such men. I am blessed to have them as friends, too, because they love Jesus, and so do I.

D.B.

It's been a very productive and spiritually enriching day. My morning work assignment as a mobility guide for a sight-impaired prisoner was uneventful. But this afternoon, however, when I went to the Intermediate Care cell block to assist the men who are mentally challenged, I found a handful of guys who needed a friend to talk to. A couple of the men asked me to pray for them, too.

One particular inmate, who once told me that he is "HIV positive," said he's been feeling sick and has a bad case of diarrhea. I did notice that he's lost weight. So he was glad when I put my right hand on his forehead and said a prayer for him. Many of these men simply need someone to show them compassion and concern. And this is my ministry; it is a joy to do it.

In addition, I was also able to spend time with my friend "Larry." I wrote about him in my journal entry, "Larry's Coat."

This afternoon I found Larry walking around the housing unit on this warm summer's day still wearing his tattered Army coat. He was moving back and forth during our one hour recreation period (which today happened to be held indoors) talking to himself while bundled in winter gear.

Poor Larry! He's a beautiful person who's now lost in a world of schizophrenia. Nevertheless, I could spend an entire day with Larry and enjoy his company, even though, sadly, most of his words are insane gibberish. Larry's a precious soul whom Jesus loves.

D.B.

I cannot even begin to describe the many ways the Lord has been touching lives in this place. It says in the Old Testament book of Jeremiah the prophet, "Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there any thing too hard for Me (Jeremiah 32:27)?"

The answer to this question, of course, is that nothing is too hard for the Creator. He has power and authority over all things.

And with this in mind, I am full of joy right now because, as of today, my chaplain has returned to his post as pastor of the congregation after having taken a leave of absence for a few weeks in order to attend to his wife who, after a routine medical examination, was diagnosed with cancer (see " Cancer").

Fortunately, "Pastor Carl," as we affectionately like to call him, appeared to be well rested. He also preached with exceptional fervency as he attested to the goodness of God, and how his wife, after enduring surgery to remove a tumor that was determined to be cancerous, came out of her ordeal with an excellent prognosis. The doctors, the chaplain said, believe they got all the cancer cells. My pastor was so jubilant about this that on several occasions during his combination sermon and testimonial he broke into tears.

In addition, there were times during his message when the congregation was so moved that we erupted in spontaneous applause to give glory to Jesus Christ. I am very happy, therefore, for my pastor and his wife. His message from Psalm 40:1-5 was, I believe, sent to me from heaven, too.

D.B.

Joel is twenty-eight years old and he's doing a prison sentence of up to eighteen years. He came to New York City from El Salvador with his parents who were in search of a better life. But things did not work out as planned, however, because his dad died within two years after arriving on United States soil. So Joel and his mom had to squeeze into a room in the home of his grandparents in Queens.

As a quiet and soft-spoken teenager, with light brown skin and an oval-shaped baby face, which he still has, Joel had difficulties adjusting to life in North America. His peers from the rough-and-tumble neighborhood of Jackson Heights bullied him a lot. According to Joel's account, there was always an overt pressure to toughen up and join one of many gangs in the area in order to escape the role of perpetual victim.

Eventually, though, Joel would succumb to the unrelenting coercion that he had to face on an almost daily basis. Clearly a shy and timid follower, he joined up with some local thugs who committed armed robberies to get money. And as a result of this, Joel entered the criminal justice system with a stiff sentence handed down by an unsympathetic judge who had no interest in entertaining a young immigrant's hard luck story.

Yet while Joel speaks almost flawless English, save for a noticeable Hispanic accent, and although he is very bright and has learned to read English very well, he has not adjusted well to prison life. His big struggle, unfortunately, is with depression and thoughts of suicide.

Life has not been easy for Joel. He's already been incarcerated for almost seven years, and he has a considerable amount of time left to serve. And because of his depression and suicidal impulses, Joel's come under the care of the facility's mental health staff. In addition, Joel is a Christian.

Although his faith sometimes waivers, and while he does on occasion lapse into periods of despair where he disappears from the chapel fellowship gatherings and Bible studies for a week or more at a time, he and I are bonded together as brothers in Christ who love God.

To me, Joel is a hurting person who is hungry for hope. He has a very real mental health issue. But when he's in step with God's Spirit Joel becomes lively and excited about his Bible studies. He likes to discuss spiritual matters as well.

Because I am assigned to the prison's Intermediate Care Program (E-North) on weekday afternoons, when Joel is in the mood, he and I will spend time together and, on occasion, we'll pray together, too.

Joel misses his mom. He remains close to her via letters and an occasional visit. My role, I believe, is to encourage Joel to hang onto his faith and never give up. I, of course, cannot take away his depression when it strikes, but I can be a friend to him. And I cannot rid him of his homesickness either. Missing his mother and family is part of the pain of being in prison. Not having regular contact with our loved ones is something every imprisoned person must endure.

Nevertheless, Joel has a dream. He's shared it with me a few times. He wants to rejoin his family, get a job, find a girlfriend and eventually get married, and raise a family.

As for being reunited with his mother and family, it will happen one day. But as for the rest of his dream, Joel is going to need a lot of help from the Lord to make it become reality. The self-inflicted damage he's done by committing crimes, coming to prison, and now having a record as a "convicted felon" that will follow Joel all the days of his life, are stacked against him. And he will also have to work hard to obtain a General Equivalency Diploma in order to get the good job he's hoping for.

Yet with God's help his dream can be fulfilled, and I've told him this many times. All things are possible, I believe, to the one who has faith in the Lord.

D.B.

I believe a day is going to come upon the United States of America, and upon the entire world, that will cause a drastic change in the way we live. It will not be an act of terrorism. Yet its occurrence will be sudden, and it will be both terrifying and mind-boggling. It will also cause our nation to be thrown into chaos.

Moreover, at such a time people aren't going to be thinking clearly or logically. And as a result of this event multitudes of confused individuals will be ripe for deception.

The event I am talking about is the "rapture." It is the removal of all Christ's true believers from the earth shortly before a special seven year period of trouble and judgment is to begin.

Obviously, though, for now I am writing a riddle. But in due course, when the rapture actually happens, and no one knows when it will, then some may begin to understand what I am saying. For when certain leaders of our nation have vanished from their posts, and our country is without guidance, many will begin to search for answers.

These answers, however, can be found in the Bible. For it is a trustworthy book that has been time-tested. In addition, God's plan for humanity can be found in many of its pages, especially in the books of Isaiah, Daniel, Zechariah and Revelation.

In the future, the Bible, I believe, will become an anchor of hope for many people. It will help to point them to the light during a time of great darkness.

D.B.

Life has its strange twists and turns. Starting several weeks ago various friends of mine began to see on a website called MySpace.com that there is someone online who's claiming to be me. He has, according to them, been writing "dark" bizarre things. He is also using what may be an old Associated Press photo as part of his ruse to lure others to his Webpage, and into thinking that he's me. How weird!

I have no Internet access, so I am getting my information second hand. Nevertheless, it is sad to think there's someone who's so empty, and so obviously unfulfilled with himself and his own life, that he feels the need to take on the identity of another person.

I feel sorry for this individual, however, and I have nothing against him. Yet it is embarrassing for me since, unfortunately, there are those who've been taken in by his deception.

In any event, this person is not me. He's an imposter. But if, in his twisted fantasies, he wishes to be the evil, "Son of Sam," then let him be. As far as I'm concerned, the old David Berkowitz is dead. Today, because of God's mercy and grace, I am a new creation in Christ. I have a new name, too. I am the "Son of Hope."

As for the impersonator, he's just a lost soul.

D.B.