November 2005

Today there was a very special worship service in the prison's chapel. It was as if God had supernaturally touched hearts in a unique and evident way.

I'm sure there's a lot of music that involves the touching of one's emotions, but this was different. It was more than an emotional experience of goose bumps and happy feelings. Because as the choir of redeemed men began to sing, a great burst of energy seemed to spring forth. Many who were in attendance had a sense of intense jubilation, including myself.

Beneath the smiling faces of these prisoners are the hidden burdens of pain and stress. These men live with the demons of guilt, failure and rejection.

Being incarcerated is difficult. The passing of the years and the oftentimes growing distance between ourselves and our families as time marches on unremittingly, takes a heavy toll.

Yet when these men began to lift their voices to heaven, and when they collectively began to praise the God who loves them, something in the atmosphere started to change. There was a lifting of burdens. Joy quickly replaced the spirits of gloom and heaviness which had been present in the chapel before the worship commenced.

I didn't want the worship to stop. But when the prolonged period of music came to an end, the room was then overtaken with a holy hush. I could swear, too, that in this place I felt the subtle pounding of dozens of hearts all locked together in an unspoken brotherhood of men who have known suffering and struggle for much of their lives.

It was a wonderful morning. The Holy Spirit's presence was felt and many a wounded souls had been comforted.

D.B.

Yesterday I wrote about the beauty and power of our morning worship service. Before the minister came forward to give his sermon, however, I had the opportunity to speak to the congregation for about ten minutes. My message was on being an example - a good example - in every area of our lives, for we are Christ's ambassadors on this earth.

I read First Timothy 4:9-16 and I expounded on this portion of Scripture by asking the men to take the apostle Paul's words to young Timothy personally, putting ourselves into this passage as if Paul was talking to each of us.

I explained that the Lord wants us to mature and progress in our walk as Christians. Every area of our lives should show to everyone, both those inside and outside of the church, that our lives have truly changed.

And I reminded the men, too, that we must work on this inner aspect of the spiritual life each day. We need basic Bible study, I told them. And as we cooperate with God's Spirit and yield ourselves to Him, this important work of growth will be possible.

I assured the congregation that I had to do the same, and that his message was for me, too.

I think the message was well received.

D.B.

This evening we had a worship service in the chapel. But before our guest speaker came to the pulpit to give us his message, I was able to speak to the congregation for approximately seven minutes on this verse by the prophet Nahum.

I told the men that when we have Jesus as our Lord and Savior, He becomes our Protector, too. He is a strong help during our days of "trouble."

I explained to the brothers that, according to a passage in the New Testament's letter to the Ephesians*, some days can be more "evil" than others. These are the times when it seems as if all hell has been unleashed against us.

There are times and seasons, I said, when the attacks from Satan are extremely intense. While at other times, however, they're not. And just like hurricanes and storms, our days of trouble, tribulation and affliction could start in an instant, and they may continue for a long while.

Yet, I told them, when these days come, we need not become fearful or get stressed out. God is with us, and He has promised never to leave or forsake us.

We're all going to be tested, I said. Spiritual warfare, as the church calls it, is always going to be a part of our journey.

But the good news, I told the congregation, is that the Lord knows those who trust in Him. So we need to hold on by faith. His grip is strong. He won't let go. Amen!

D.B.

*Ephesians 6:10-18

The traditional "Thanksgiving Day" weekend is now coming to an end. It's late Sunday evening. I got out of the shower about thirty minutes ago. The hot water splashing against my hurting back was just what I needed.

Thanksgiving Day was uneventful. I was able to spend time with several Christian friends as we sat in the prison's dining area to eat a sparse and tasteless meal together. "There's nothing like family gatherings and a mother's cooking," I said to the guys. But I'm not complaining, however. As the often suffering Apostle, Paul, wrote in one of his epistles, "For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and raiment let us therewith be content (I Timothy 6:7-8)."

Thus I am learning to be content, to keep life simple, and to be thankful always. Surely there are millions of people throughout the world who are, as of this moment, worse off than me. So with this in mind, I quietly ate my bland instant mashed potatoes along with a single three ounce oval-shaped piece of blanched, pressed and processed turkey patty. It wasn't easy, either.

It's only by the grace of God that I could eat such a meal and still smile.

D.B.

I remain in intense pain. It has not gone away, nor has it diminished. But my faith remains strong. Just because my body is weak with an infirmity doesn't mean that my love for the Lord has been lost. As I wrote in my journal entry, "Limping by Faith," I am limping along by faith.

My hurting back has slowed me down. Sitting is difficult. But so is standing, walking and kneeling. The pain goes from my lower back, to my right hip, and then down my right leg to just above or near my ankle.

It is also a pain which is causing me to pray more, and to seek a deeper walk with God. It's an "Oh God, please help me!" type of pain. It is the kind of pain that, without God's grace and His divine help, could drive a man insane. It's a crippling yet humbling pain, too.

Nevertheless, my life remains abuzz with responsibilities. I still work full-time. And, as always, I am very involved with the worship services and Bible studies in the chapel. Life, of course, goes on.

So if my journal writings are few, it's because of the pain. Normally I'd be sitting for hours on the hard metal stool that's bolted to the floor of my cell directly in front of the small table top where my typewriter faithfully sits like a sentry on guard duty waiting for an assignment from headquarters.

For now, however, sitting hurts more than standing. Therefore I cannot write as much.

D.B.