And He (Jesus) said unto them, Go Ye into all the world,
and preach the gospel to every creature.
Mark 16:15
I suppose prison could be considered my primary field for missions work...
and preach the gospel to every creature.
Mark 16:15
I suppose prison could be considered my primary field for missions work...
Although I live in the prison’s general population, for more than twenty years I have been working on and off with the guys in E-North. They’re truly a special bunch of hurting and broken men. Some of them are angry and defiant. Others are somewhat passive and aloof, while others are somewhere in-between, and all are on prescribed psycho-tropic medications. They’re human beings with all kinds of special needs.
So it’s a big responsibility to be allowed to work with these men in my varied unofficial roles of friend, peer-counselor, helper, listener, encourager and lay chaplain. I’ve done everything from calming down angry men, to talking a man out of committing suicide, to listening to un-solicited confessions from men who needed to get something off their chest.
In addition, I’ve helped men write letters home or assisted them in filling our medical forms for various treatments or to have dental work done. I’ve listened to endless complaints. I have prayed with men who wanted me to, and gotten yelled at by those who wanted no prayers, or any of the Christian literature I’d sometimes try to give them.
Men have asked for advice on marriage. My answer would normally be, "better pray about it, and better be careful." While one man once asked me if I thought he should get a sex change. My answer was an assertive, "No!" He was not happy with my response, but softened a little when I politely explained why I said what I did.
I’ve also talked with a man who was convinced he was going to soon be placed in a rocket ship and sent to Mars. I’ve spoken over the years with a handful of men who were convinced they were the Devil. Thankfully none of them were. And I even met Jesus Christ, or at least he claimed to be. But when I asked to see the marks on his hands and wrists, and the scars on his forehead from having to wear a crown of sharp, skin-piercing thorns, he had nothing to show for it.
I have compassionately hugged and comforted men who received news about the death of a loved one. Some have actually cried on my shoulder. And on a more mundane note, I have pleaded with men to take a shower, and to please use soap. I’d have to gently remind them that hygiene is important, especially when you have to live in close quarters with other people.
Altogether, working in E-North with an array of inmates from all walks of life and with a caring staff, has been both a challenge, and fun. God, I believe, has me there for a reason, and it is to tell these men about His love for them, and that Christ truly cares for their souls.
D.B.
So it’s a big responsibility to be allowed to work with these men in my varied unofficial roles of friend, peer-counselor, helper, listener, encourager and lay chaplain. I’ve done everything from calming down angry men, to talking a man out of committing suicide, to listening to un-solicited confessions from men who needed to get something off their chest.
In addition, I’ve helped men write letters home or assisted them in filling our medical forms for various treatments or to have dental work done. I’ve listened to endless complaints. I have prayed with men who wanted me to, and gotten yelled at by those who wanted no prayers, or any of the Christian literature I’d sometimes try to give them.
Men have asked for advice on marriage. My answer would normally be, "better pray about it, and better be careful." While one man once asked me if I thought he should get a sex change. My answer was an assertive, "No!" He was not happy with my response, but softened a little when I politely explained why I said what I did.
I’ve also talked with a man who was convinced he was going to soon be placed in a rocket ship and sent to Mars. I’ve spoken over the years with a handful of men who were convinced they were the Devil. Thankfully none of them were. And I even met Jesus Christ, or at least he claimed to be. But when I asked to see the marks on his hands and wrists, and the scars on his forehead from having to wear a crown of sharp, skin-piercing thorns, he had nothing to show for it.
I have compassionately hugged and comforted men who received news about the death of a loved one. Some have actually cried on my shoulder. And on a more mundane note, I have pleaded with men to take a shower, and to please use soap. I’d have to gently remind them that hygiene is important, especially when you have to live in close quarters with other people.
Altogether, working in E-North with an array of inmates from all walks of life and with a caring staff, has been both a challenge, and fun. God, I believe, has me there for a reason, and it is to tell these men about His love for them, and that Christ truly cares for their souls.
D.B.
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