"My soul shall make her boast in the Lord:
the humble shall here thereof, and be glad."
Psalm 34:2 KJV
This morning, I had to take one of my guys to the prison's infirmary for an appointment with the facility's doctor...
the humble shall here thereof, and be glad."
Psalm 34:2 KJV
This morning, I had to take one of my guys to the prison's infirmary for an appointment with the facility's doctor...
Being that I'm now working as a "Mobility Assistant" for the handicapped, part of my job was getting this man into his wheelchair, and then pushing him through the usually busy corridors and across prison grounds in order to get him where he needed to go.
So we made our way to the infirmary. And once we reported in, we were told to wait our turn in the Infirmary's waiting room. And that's just what we did. We found a place to sit next to two other men who happened to be members of our Christian fellowship group.
It was certainly refreshing to find friends to hang out with in a room that was crammed with prisoners. And as we Christians so often do, we began to talk about the goodness of the Lord. The subject then turned to talking about the close calls we each encountered when we were living reckless lives, and our fallen nature led us into committing crimes and hurting others. We all regret what we did in the past.
And when we began to discuss our brushes with death, and the realization of how many times we could have found ourselves in Hell, our hearts began to fill with gratitude. "If not for the mercy of the Lord, where would we be?" I asked? Then, one by one, we each began to recount some of those incidents.
My two friends and I spoke of having guns pointed at our faces from only inches away. With me, it was in 1977 when detectives surrounded my car with their guns drawn and aimed at me from every direction. I was then immediately handcuffed and placed under arrest. But I believe that if not for the unseen hands of God's divine intervention, which I did not come to realize until many years later, I could have been shot dead on the spot on that hot August night, when they were looking for "Son of Sam."
My friend, Joey, recalled the time when rival drug dealers armed with pistols chased him down a street in Brooklyn. A quick volley of shots made him run even faster, and he lived to see another day. When, only a few months later, he was robbed by a fellow addict who pressed a gun against Joey's forehead, taking both his money and a stash of narcotics.
Then it was Christopher's turn. He was and is a walking miracle. Exchanging shots with New York City police officers in Queens County, he survived after being hit by several rounds from their 9mm handguns. Now, more than ten years later, Christopher still has some of those bullets in him. He has to walk with a brace around one of his ankles, but otherwise he's in relatively good health.
As for the man in the wheelchair? He got to hear for himself three stories of close calls from fellow inmates who are now practicing Christians. And to add to this, he's of the Muslim faith. He watched as we openly boasted in our Lord Jesus, while thanking Him for all the wonderful works of deliverance that He has done in our behalf, and how He kept his children out of harm’s way.
D.B.
Note: Joey and Christopher are not their real names.
So we made our way to the infirmary. And once we reported in, we were told to wait our turn in the Infirmary's waiting room. And that's just what we did. We found a place to sit next to two other men who happened to be members of our Christian fellowship group.
It was certainly refreshing to find friends to hang out with in a room that was crammed with prisoners. And as we Christians so often do, we began to talk about the goodness of the Lord. The subject then turned to talking about the close calls we each encountered when we were living reckless lives, and our fallen nature led us into committing crimes and hurting others. We all regret what we did in the past.
And when we began to discuss our brushes with death, and the realization of how many times we could have found ourselves in Hell, our hearts began to fill with gratitude. "If not for the mercy of the Lord, where would we be?" I asked? Then, one by one, we each began to recount some of those incidents.
My two friends and I spoke of having guns pointed at our faces from only inches away. With me, it was in 1977 when detectives surrounded my car with their guns drawn and aimed at me from every direction. I was then immediately handcuffed and placed under arrest. But I believe that if not for the unseen hands of God's divine intervention, which I did not come to realize until many years later, I could have been shot dead on the spot on that hot August night, when they were looking for "Son of Sam."
My friend, Joey, recalled the time when rival drug dealers armed with pistols chased him down a street in Brooklyn. A quick volley of shots made him run even faster, and he lived to see another day. When, only a few months later, he was robbed by a fellow addict who pressed a gun against Joey's forehead, taking both his money and a stash of narcotics.
Then it was Christopher's turn. He was and is a walking miracle. Exchanging shots with New York City police officers in Queens County, he survived after being hit by several rounds from their 9mm handguns. Now, more than ten years later, Christopher still has some of those bullets in him. He has to walk with a brace around one of his ankles, but otherwise he's in relatively good health.
As for the man in the wheelchair? He got to hear for himself three stories of close calls from fellow inmates who are now practicing Christians. And to add to this, he's of the Muslim faith. He watched as we openly boasted in our Lord Jesus, while thanking Him for all the wonderful works of deliverance that He has done in our behalf, and how He kept his children out of harm’s way.
D.B.
Note: Joey and Christopher are not their real names.