December 2007

It is now the last month of the year. And I remain hopeful that God will continue to use my life for a good purpose.

In 2007, however, I have had my share of tribulations and challenges. And I confess that I am still learning how to rejoice in whatever hardships I must face. For one day I hope to be able to say the same words as the apostle, Paul. " ...most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities and distresses so that the power of Christ may rest upon me (II Corinthians 12:9-10, my paraphrase)."

Nowadays, though, I still murmur and complain on occasion. Yet, by the grace of God, and through His strength, I can and will press on. I can go forward on my spiritual journey knowing that the "joy of the Lord" is my strength. Through Christ I have the victory. And by His strength I can run through an army of demons. I could leap over every obstacle Satan places in my path. Amen!

D.B.

I desire to have a heart of continual thankfulness and gratitude towards the Lord for all He has done for me, and for what He is doing with me now. Assuredly He knows no limitations. And not even the walls of this prison, I believe, can hinder God from accomplishing what He has planned.

Recently, for example, the Lord has given me several opportunities to share my story of hope with a ministry in northern Canada, and at a women's prison in South Dakota. This was done via my published testimonial pamphlet as well as with a film, Son of Sam/Son of Hope.

In addition, I was able to tell my story to students at a youth and family services facility in Pennsylvania, and also with a member of the Pennsylvania State Police. Yet I know, however, that not everyone believes what I say. But many do (Acts 28:24). And I am thankful for the latter. I hope, as well, that in the coming year more opportunities come along. I want to glorify the Lord.

D.B.

My chaplain is very diligent by allowing the inmates to have prayer meetings every week of the year. We also have a special prayer request form available that any man could use in order to request prayer for someone, or for himself. In addition, one of the men who's talented at woodcraft made a beautiful laminated box out of cherry wood for the request forms to go in.

Then, on a weekly basis, the box is emptied of its contents and the forms that have been completed get placed before those in our prayer group. At this time each request is given to God. And many of us have our own personal prayer lists, as well. I keep my list in an ordinary Composition notebook to use during my private times of prayer.

Furthermore, we pray for people from all walks of life, and for all kinds of situations and needs. For example, we've been interceding for the son of one of our church's members who's serving in the military; he's stationed in Iraq. And now we're praying for those who've been tragically impacted by the recent shopping mall shooting rampage that occurred the other day in the state of Nebraska.

Most of those whom we pray for don't even know that we're doing this. It's a secret thing between us and the Lord. But we've seen many of our prayers get answered. Miracles have happened.

D.B.

This morning, while I was awake at the break of dawn, I began to think about my life and how I want to make it count in such a way that whatever I do in word or deed, it will bring glory and honor to my Maker. Of course I often fall very short in my walk with the Lord. Nevertheless I want to redeem the time and make my moments here on earth count for eternity. Precious are the hours of each day.

D.B.

I am in my cell sitting in front of my typewriter, while at the same time looking at a snowed covered ball field. Perhaps six or seven inches of glistening white flakes have covered everything but the large floodlight stanchions which are positioned throughout the prison like steel trees.

But despite the beauty of a snowfall, yesterday evening there was a fistfight in my cell block. It was the second one within the past few weeks. In last night's incident, however, two young hotheaded men slammed fists at each others faces for a brief few minutes before the guards were able to break up the battle. One of the inmates was slightly bloodied, but was not seriously hurt. While a few weeks ago two different men exchanged blows, with one of them needing stitches. It was a bloody mess. And the loser, so I was told, after he was taken to the infirmary, was placed in Protective Custody.

Of course I can only speculate what the earlier fight was about. Maybe it was the result of an old grudge between gang members. Last night's swinging match was over something very petty. An argument over a television program quickly escalated into a brief brawl.

Unfortunately, these kinds of things occur easily in correctional facilities because, in this environment, there's always a degree of tension in the air. And those who are quick to anger will sometimes unleash their hostilities and frustrations upon other men with forceful blows or, at the very worst, with a weapon. And the splotches and splatterings of blood that are left behind from such assaults become just another part of the landscape.

Moreover, in both these incidents there was what is officially known as a "blood spill." Therefore an inmate who is assigned to the prison's Infirmary, and who has been specially trained at removing bloodstains and other bodily fluids, had to be called in. He arrived a short time after each fight carrying a plastic pail, an array of cleaning and disinfecting products, and his protective gear. Then, while dressed in gear that makes him look like a forensic crime scene examiner, he had to wipe up and remove as best as he could all traces of blood. And until he was finished we had to remain in our cells.

Yet what I have also observed throughout my many years of incarceration is that with each new generation of inmates there arrives a rougher caliber of men. They're wilder and harder to communicate with than their predecessors. They seem to be quick to anger and to fight; they're also more illiterate.

However I am not stating this merely because of some recent fights. Fistfights are common in here, not to mention an occasional stabbing, or a man getting banged over the head with a tuna fish can or smacked sideways with a bar of soap in a sock. But there is a more aggressive inmate, very streetwise and vicious, that's now coming into the prison system. He's angry and hyperactive, and more than likely, he is facing a long stretch of time to do.

For many of these young men reality has yet to set in. But it will. One day, when their cell doors slam shut once too often, or when they're alone with themselves for the final lock-in for the evening, one by one, they'll awaken to the truth. Then they will finally understand what they've done to themselves, to their families, and to their victims. And it will be a nightmare. It will be a mess that only God can fix.

D.B.

I had the feeling that I was going to do the preaching during today's chapel service. My chaplain had the day off to be with his family. Then due to a fierce snowstorm which fell on Saturday and is still continuing somewhat, the volunteer minister who was scheduled to be here did not show up. So the responsibility fell upon me. It was a blessing though because I got the chance to share with the congregation a message from one of my favorite stories in the gospels, that of Zacchaeus the swindler (Luke 19:1-10).

Our service began at approximately 10 a.m. The equipment was all in place. One man opened the service in prayer, then we read a passage from the Bible together. Next we took time out to give each other a warm welcome, shaking one another's hands and hugging. Then the choir came with an excellent and anointed selection of worship songs. And when they were finished I told the entire congregation how glad we should be to have such talented musicians and singers with us. Although, of course, none of us want to be here in prison, but I will say that the members of the choir are doing their best to serve the Lord.

Anyhow, as the service continued I had asked several of the elders to come up to the front of the church to give us a few words of encouragement. So Richard spoke from First John Chapter four on the need to show God's love to everyone. Then Philip shared on the need for genuine repentance which means to forsake our sins.

Finally it was my turn to come to the pulpit. I was nervous as always. But I read Luke chapter nineteen from verses 1 to 10 out loud. And when I was finished, I prayed. Next I introduced everyone to Zacchaeus. I told the men that Zacchaeus was a tax collector. This meant that the citizens of his community considered him to be a crook, a cheater, an extortionist, and a traitor. Basically he was a "white collar" criminal who, when it suited him, probably had his delinquent debtors beaten up. Zacchaeus could be ruthless when it came to getting paid.

The story, I said, took place in what was then the city of Jericho. Here in Jericho, which was located northeast of Jerusalem, the overall climate was cool and comfortable year-round. It was the vacation spa of the rich and powerful. It was also the perfect place for a greedy Zacchaeus to set up his criminal enterprise.

But to make a long story short, Zacchaeus, although now a wealthy and powerful "chief" above all the city's tax men, had a deep-seated problem. He'd been suffering from a guilty conscience. He was terribly ashamed of what he was doing. And so I told the congregation, "A man could run from his crimes, but he cannot flee from his conscience." Such was the case with Zacchaeus.

Therefore, when the One whom Zacchaeus had heard so much about was coming to town, this Jewish criminal felt compelled to sneak away from his cohorts to go see this Messianic figure for himself. Zacchaeus' heart, I believe, was burning from within. And he wasn't sure exactly why.

A short while later, however, after Zacchaeus had climbed a sycamore tree so as to get a good view of Jesus without, he'd hoped, the risk of Jesus seeing him, the Lord, as He walked down that people packed road, happened to look up at that very tree. And there was Zachaeus, his little body snaked around a limb, his face partially hidden by leaves. But in that moment of time their eyes met.

I believe that in those precious seconds a sin laden Zacchaeus saw nothing but love and compassion radiating from the Savior's face. He did not see condemnation or scorn. And, just as suddenly, the Lord beckoned him to come down from his perch. To Zacchaeus' surprise, Jesus even told the unscrupulous tax collector that He wanted to stay at his house. Then, as the Bible account describes, Zacchaeus scrambled down the tree with joy.

Yet, at the same time, while Zacchaeus stood in the middle of the road for his face-to-face encounter with the Son of God, when the crowd saw what was happening, and as they heard the exchange of words between those two, the fine citizens of Jericho began to murmur. "This man is going to be the guest of a sinner!" They were astonished. They couldn't understand why the One who was hopefully going to become their King, would want to mingle and dine with a person whom they considered to be a scoundrel. In their minds Zacchaeus was a lowlife. He was "trash."

"Imagine," I said to the men, "the Messiah of Israel comes into a big city and instead of doing what important people usually do, go to hobnob with the city's elite, Jesus opted to have fellowship with a repentant criminal." I then went on, "Jesus did not stop at the home of the city's mayor, nor did He visit with the Chief of Police. Rather, He chose to go off with a despised mobster."

"And guys," I said to them as passionately as I could, "the Lord wishes to do the same with you." I told them that Jesus wants to come into their hearts. That He offers forgiveness, and He seeks fellowship. I then read Revelation 3:20 which says that Jesus is knocking on the doors of human hearts hoping these doors would be opened to let Him in. I added, as well, that Jesus is even calling each of us by name inviting us to repentance, and asking us to have faith in Him. "It doesn't get more intimate than this," I said.

Then, when I was finished with my message, I asked brother Philip, who's the assistant pastor, to come along-side me to give the altar call. We invited those who, like Zacchaeus, were riddled with guilt, to come forward. Thankfully a sizeable number did come, one by one, to seek salvation.

D.B.

Society scoffs as the idea that a criminal can be forgiven, that his sins could be erased. However, many are ignorant of the fact that all have sinned and done wrong. Therefore everyone needs a Savior. We are all guilty of breaking at least some of God's laws and thus offending a holy God who hates sin. And as a result of being lawbreakers, we must thereby incur the wrath of the Lord.

But at the same time God is also a being of compassion. As the above Scripture from the Old Testament states, God "delights" in showing mercy. Yet this does not mean that anyone can get away with wrongdoing. On the contrary, the Bible makes it plain that each person who has ever lived will one day stand before the Creator of the universe. And when this happens there will never again be an unsolved crime, nor a sin which remains hidden. Even every bad word we've said, and every hateful thought we had against another will be uncovered. While, at the same time, only those who've been "justified" by God through their faith in Jesus Christ, and His provision of salvation by dying for our sins, will be exempt from this future judgment.

Truly Christ's atonement and sacrifice on that rugged cross has made all those who've trusted Him completely clean; not sinless nor perfect, but fully forgiven.

Moreover, God's forgiveness doesn't mean that one is exempt from reaping the consequences of his sins. I, for example, believe the Lord has forgiven me for my crimes. Yet I am still in prison. I must live with the mess I've made. And all my remorse and regret cannot change anything. Nevertheless God is merciful.

This became very clear to me today as I sat in a Bible study class this afternoon with about twenty four other inmates and three volunteer lay ministers. As we all sat with our chairs in a circle, one of the prisoners shared his story of being "rescued" from a life of crime and drug addiction. He told us that he'd have to rob from someone every day in order to support his habit. But as he described his life and how he came to prison, I saw that he was, in a sense, snatched from the grave. If not for his arrest, no doubt he'd have died prematurely.

Thus even in his coming to jail the Lord was showing mercy to this man. His life was spared instead of judged. And it is a testimony of Christ's love for his wayward soul. He'd been rescued from his reckless ways and then brought to a place where he could hear the gospel and believe it. Now he lives for Jesus. Amen!

D.B.

This morning a worship service was held in the prison's chapel from 10 to 11:30. It was then followed by our annual Christmas celebration which began at 12:45. There were approximately fifty-five men in attendance including two outside guests, Al and Marty, who spent the remainder of the day with us. They stayed until 8 P.M. when our gathering ended.

Al and Marty are ex-cons who've been out of prison for many years. And in addition to their respective jobs, they're now what the Department of Corrections calls "registered volunteers." They possess official approval to enter various prisons in New York State in order to conduct chapel services or teach Bible studies.

So today my congregation along with our guests were able to pray, worship and sing songs together. And both Al and Marty also took turns giving us exhortations to stay firm in our faith. We then watched two Christian films until suppertime when we gathered along rows of tables to eat a special meal which had been prepared in the facility's kitchen.

The meal consisted of Spanish styled rice and beans, baked chicken and fresh salad plus ice cream. Everything was of course paid for solely by the inmates. And for me, even though I helped to serve the food and clean up afterwards, the entire day was a respite from the daily pressures of prison life. Besides, Christmas comes only once a year.

Furthermore, if any man in our congregation did not have the funds available to chip in for the party, the rest of us covered for him. Unfortunately, some guys have no one on the outside to look out for them or send them anything. While others still have to pay fines or court costs thus rendering them paupers. So in a spirit of generosity the penniless were included in the gathering because, as the Bible says, we are "one body" in Christ; we're a family, too.

In was indeed a special day.

D.B.

At 10:30 this morning the inmates who wanted to were allowed to attend a Christmas Eve service in the chapel. It sounds like an incongruity to have a Christmas Eve service in the morning. But whatever privileges are afforded to us, such as being permitted to have this event during work hours, is usually woven around the time slots granted by the administration. Yet it worked out well because we had sixty minutes to worship God and to reflect on the birth of the Savior.

My chaplain, Carl Stiglich, brought forth one of his best sermons ever. He was, in my opinion, filled with the anointing of the Holy Spirit as he spoke about "The Confusion of Joseph." The Scriptures appeared to open for me as my pastor preached from Matthew 1:18-25. He showed the congregation the character traits of Joseph and how he had to wait patiently until the confusion about his wife, Mary, was cleared up. After all, Mary was pregnant. Yet she insisted to her husband that she's never known another man sexually.

Poor Joseph! Seeing the slowly swelling belly of his wife must have been troubling. Nevertheless, although the Scriptures do not reveal much about him, Joseph submitted to the Lord. For when the child was born, as per the instructions of the angel who'd spoken to him in a dream, instead of naming the boy "Joseph Junior," he broke with tradition and gave his son the name "Jesus."

Fortunately for Joseph, because He followed the angel's instructions, God's divine plan was brought forth. In time his confusion was dispelled. And for Christians like myself, we don't always know what the Lord is doing. His ways are not our ways. Sometimes He does things which may not make sense and we become perplexed. Yet if we simply say "Yes" to Jesus and refuse to trust in our own understanding, He will bring forth His plan for our lives. We in turn will be victorious and successful in the maturing of our faith.

D.B.

It has been a day to relax, recuperate and rest as I rejoice in the goodness of God. It's Christmas, and most of the work assignments the inmates would normally do have been cancelled. Classes are closed as well.

For me it is a day to be quiet and contemplative. On Sunday I was on the go from morning until evening. Then yesterday morning I attended the Christmas Eve service, and I had to go to my work assignment in the afternoon. Now, however, I am free to spend the day alone in my cell. So I spent the time reading and praying.

Frankly I doubt that Jesus was born on December 25th. As a Jew, I am more inclined to believe that the Messiah would have been born on the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah. This is also the Jewish New Year. In fact, many Jews believe that God began creation on Rosh Hashanah. Of course no one can prove this. Besides, if Jesus wanted us to know the exact date of His birth, He would have told His disciples, who in turn would've told us via the Scriptures. And this was not the case.

Nevertheless, this is the season, at least by tradition, to rejoice in the birth of the Promised One Who came to die for the sins of mankind. Yes, glory to God in the highest! And for those who've placed their faith in Him, peace!

D.B.

Several key persons in Anthony's life are dying, and his heart has been overwhelmed because of it. He shared this with me as we walked together in the yard.

I had the afternoon off from my work assignment. And though the weather was cold and dreary, I felt compelled to go outdoors. Then, once outside, I happened upon my Christian friend, Anthony. I could tell by his downcast countenance that he was in distress.

Anthony is doing a prison sentence of 25 years to life. He's a young black man who left behind a handful of children and a loving family when he got involved in drugs and ended up committing a series of crimes which landed him behind bars. But as he and I walked in circles around the yard's perimeter, Anthony told me of an array of illnesses that are presently plaguing several members of his family.

Sadly, those who've been the closest to him are nearing their deaths, he said. His Aunt, whom he told me is the most gravely ill of the bunch, had been like a second mother to him. She helped raise Anthony as he grew up, oftentimes moving back and forth between relatives in both New York and South Carolina. Now, however, she may have only days to live because, according to her nephew, Diabetes has taken a heavy toll on her already frail frame. While a close cousin, a sister, and several uncles are very sick, too.

And as Anthony poured his heart out, I told him, "Brother, you need to trust God in this situation. You must ask the Lord to give your Aunt the grace and strength to endure her ordeal." I then added that he needs to ask for help for himself, as well, so that he doesn't become overly discouraged and depressed. I said to him, "Anthony, let's just trust God and pray." And we did.

In a far corner of the yard, as snow began to fall around us, Anthony and I bowed our heads and quietly prayed. We put everything into the hands of Jesus Christ. Then, after an approximately ten minute talk with Jesus, he and I resumed our walk.

I'm convinced the Holy Spirit led me to the yard today. This was a "divine appointment." God knew Anthony needed someone to talk to, and He met the need.

D.B.

Anthony got the news today that his "Auntie" went home to be with the Lord. It was only a little more than twenty-four hours ago that he and I prayed together in the recreation yard. He knew his Aunt only had a little time left. Therefore her death didn't take him by surprise. A family member who was with her in South Carolina when she died, called a family member in New York. She in turn contacted the prison's chaplain who then gave the news to Anthony.

I didn't find out about it until Anthony showed up at this evening's Bible study class. So before the class began the men who were present, including myself, prayed for Anthony. We asked the Holy Spirit to comfort him. Anthony of course knows that he has friends in the fellowship whom he could talk to should he become sad and downcast. We're all doing prison time together. We also felt his loss.

I'm sure, however, that Anthony understands how much his Auntie wanted to leave her pain-filled body. She was a devout Christian who'd been ill for a long time. Diabetes and the resultant episodes of gangrene infections caused her to lose one piece of her body at a time. Now, thankfully, her struggle has ended; her spirit is free.

And the passing of Anthony's Aunt reminds me of something inmates secretly fear, especially with those who are doing long stretches in prison. It is the worry that at some point his loved ones will begin to die off, and over the process of time he fears he will be forgotten.

I know men who are all alone now except for their faith in God. And if a man has no relationship with the Lord, then he's left to go it alone. There's no one out there for him, and no one who cares. It's a scary feeling. I think about this too.

D.B.

The Lord is full of mercy, compassion, blessings, and surprises, too. And He has been faithful to grant me the desires of my heart. And one of these desires is to be used by the Lord to share the gospel throughout the world. This is happening!

Recently the Webmaster for AriseandShine forwarded to me an email from a Christian in Pakistan. He'd been inspired by my writings and wrote to tell me so. But how awesome it is for me to have the opportunity to inspire and encourage people from all walks of life even as I sit in a prison cell. Only God could do something like this, and I thank Him continually.

Here, then, is a portion of this Christian's letter:

"Dear Brother... I am writing from Pakistan. I am working with the destitute and poor Christians in areas where the Christian families do not have access to the Word of God. We read your sermons and messages from your website for the past year. We read them regularly and try to convey them to our people. As they are in English it is impossible for our people to read them. We have always been trying to find such valuable and precious teachings for my people to get involved in. Such teachings are the closest source to get right with God for believers.

We have the task to get such teachings translated into Urdu and Punjabi languages for the people who are not able to go through this informative material in English, a foreign language. I really wish to translate your teachings into Urdu and Punjabi... This will bring a lot of blessings for Urdu and Punjabi speaking people... There is nothing more precious than to hear the Word of God in your own languages..."

Lord willing, I hope to share my response to this man in a future journal entry in January 2008. Please, I ask my Christian brethren who read my journal, to pray for our brothers and sisters in Pakistan. It is a nation where Christians are often persecuted and mistreated because of their faith in Christ.
Thank you.

D.B.

Another year had come to an end. I have been in prison for more than thirty years, and by human understanding my life should be filled with despair and hopelessness. But by the grace of God this has not been the case. Today, because of Jesus Christ, I am living with joy, peace and hope. And God has allowed me to opportunity to repent of my sins and place my faith in Him. I know, as well, that He shall fulfill the plans He has for me (Psalm 138:8).

Likewise I am thankful for the church body the Lord has placed me into. It's located behind prison walls. Yet I can say that I'm proud of the way the Christians in her work with one another. We have a mix of men from different backgrounds who are learning to respect and cooperate with each other for the furtherance of the gospel, and for the strengthening of the church.

But like any fellowship, we have our problems, too. Sins such as envy, strife and jealousy do crop up. We're not perfect. Nevertheless the Word of God instructs us on how to overcome such things. Instead, we've been growing in the grace and knowledge of our Savior. And by the same token, brotherly love is prevailing. And this brings joy to the Lord. It's also a testimony to a world dominated by hate, unforgiveness and selfishness.

In addition, while I live here I am under the authority of my chaplain/pastor, who is under the authority of the Lord. I am not a so called "Lone Ranger" doing my own thing. For the church congregation I belong to is one of order where we are being trained for our respective ministries. And it is through the Holy Spirit's guidance, and by sound biblical teaching, that we're gradually becoming more skillful in the use of our individual giftings. We're also becoming more discerning when it comes to the many false gospels that have plagued other churches.

Finally, I shall never cease to pray for those whom I injured in the past. To my regret I caused many people to suffer horrific pain and loss. May God help them wherever they may be.

D.B.