I went on my first mission trip at the young age of
37. At the request/badgering of my friend, Kelly Walker, I participated
in a “Day of Champions” with Bill Glass’ excellent prison ministry, Champions For Life(CFL).
I spent six hours in the Middleton Transfer Facility, about 100
miles from my house.
37. At the request/badgering of my friend, Kelly Walker, I participated
in a “Day of Champions” with Bill Glass’ excellent prison ministry, Champions For Life(CFL).
I spent six hours in the Middleton Transfer Facility, about 100
miles from my house.
It was one of the most heartrending days of my
life. I saw hundreds of men, most of whom had recently been sentenced,
walking in straight, silent lines with their hands behind their backs. They were
not tied or secured but were required to walk this way. Most of them
had their heads freshly shaved and had a “I’m scared and can’t believe
this is happening” look on their faces. At this facility, there are no
long-term residents; only inmates waiting to see where they will be
incarcerated for the bulk of their sentence. After some short
discussion with the inmates, I found out that they could be moved at
any time, without warning.
life. I saw hundreds of men, most of whom had recently been sentenced,
walking in straight, silent lines with their hands behind their backs. They were
not tied or secured but were required to walk this way. Most of them
had their heads freshly shaved and had a “I’m scared and can’t believe
this is happening” look on their faces. At this facility, there are no
long-term residents; only inmates waiting to see where they will be
incarcerated for the bulk of their sentence. After some short
discussion with the inmates, I found out that they could be moved at
any time, without warning.
After the training given by CFL, I remember standing with someother “teammates,” as CFL calls people who volunteer, watching inmates
walk by, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming to the event.
(No, they didn’t have a choice…)
I was so far out of my comfort zone
that I couldn’t even see the fence.
that I couldn’t even see the fence.
During a lull in the line, I was talking it up with my teammates;
“Where are you from, what do you do?” that kind of thing, when the Holy
Spirit began to tell me to go talk with some of the inmates who had
passed through the line and sat down. I looked up and there was about
thirty inmates staring at us from their chairs.
“Where are you from, what do you do?” that kind of thing, when the Holy
Spirit began to tell me to go talk with some of the inmates who had
passed through the line and sat down. I looked up and there was about
thirty inmates staring at us from their chairs.
My thought process was something like this:
“No way am I going
over there!”
over there!”
“I’ll never see them again, why be embarrassed?”
“What else am
I here for, to talk with people just like me or to talk with inmates?”
I here for, to talk with people just like me or to talk with inmates?”
So, I reluctantly left the comfort of the welcome line and walked to
the guys who were turned in their chairs looking at us. I was able to
spend a little bit of time talking with some inmates (they all
introduced themselves with their last names only and called me sir) and
had to stop when the CFL program started.
the guys who were turned in their chairs looking at us. I was able to
spend a little bit of time talking with some inmates (they all
introduced themselves with their last names only and called me sir) and
had to stop when the CFL program started.
(I cannot do justice to CFL with my description of the prison
program; it is most excellent. If you want know to more about it, buy
me lunch and I’ll tell you about it 🙂 or, better yet, sign up and go on one in your area.)
program; it is most excellent. If you want know to more about it, buy
me lunch and I’ll tell you about it 🙂 or, better yet, sign up and go on one in your area.)
The program consisted of some people talking about their past
lives while incarcerated and how Jesus changed them, someone singing
some music that had the whole place rocking and singing, and then an
invitation to huddle up with the CFL teammates for a message about
Jesus.
lives while incarcerated and how Jesus changed them, someone singing
some music that had the whole place rocking and singing, and then an
invitation to huddle up with the CFL teammates for a message about
Jesus.
My buddy, Frank Blaha, and I had already decided, because I was a
freshman, that I would do the talking and he would stand with me. Frank
is about 6′ 1″, a sheet-metal worker, and has more tats and piercings
than you care to know about, so having him stand with me was one of the
things that God used to get me through the experience.
freshman, that I would do the talking and he would stand with me. Frank
is about 6′ 1″, a sheet-metal worker, and has more tats and piercings
than you care to know about, so having him stand with me was one of the
things that God used to get me through the experience.
On the signal, I looked around me to see if anyone would want
to hear what I had to say. Nine men turned their chairs around and
formed a circle with me. I asked them some questions and then began to
take them through Bill Bright’s “Four Spiritual Laws” tract. Turns out,
of the nine, eight were already Christians. The guy who wasn’t a
Christian was very polite, but didn’t appear to be interested. Of the
eight Christians, one of them was what I later learned to identify as a
“preacher”; someone who has spent a lot of time in prison and has
studied God’s Word the entire time. Most of these guys could teach at any
seminary worth it’s salt and are totally sold out for Jesus (this guy
was a older Mexican man, covered with gang tattoos, who encouraged me
throughout my presentation). Another of the eight was a guy who was so
angry that he would not speak unless specifically addressed. According
to his story, he had taken a murder rap for a friend and made a deal
with God; he would take the fall and God would get him out of prison.
God did not hold up his end of the bargain. Hence the anger.
to hear what I had to say. Nine men turned their chairs around and
formed a circle with me. I asked them some questions and then began to
take them through Bill Bright’s “Four Spiritual Laws” tract. Turns out,
of the nine, eight were already Christians. The guy who wasn’t a
Christian was very polite, but didn’t appear to be interested. Of the
eight Christians, one of them was what I later learned to identify as a
“preacher”; someone who has spent a lot of time in prison and has
studied God’s Word the entire time. Most of these guys could teach at any
seminary worth it’s salt and are totally sold out for Jesus (this guy
was a older Mexican man, covered with gang tattoos, who encouraged me
throughout my presentation). Another of the eight was a guy who was so
angry that he would not speak unless specifically addressed. According
to his story, he had taken a murder rap for a friend and made a deal
with God; he would take the fall and God would get him out of prison.
God did not hold up his end of the bargain. Hence the anger.
I went around the circle and asked the men what I could pray for
and that was it. As far as I know, no one got saved because I visited
the Middleton Transfer Facility. I hope that I got to encourage some
Christian brothers who were feeling like they had disappointed God, but
I really don’t know.
and that was it. As far as I know, no one got saved because I visited
the Middleton Transfer Facility. I hope that I got to encourage some
Christian brothers who were feeling like they had disappointed God, but
I really don’t know.
What I do know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was that this jaunt to Middleton changed ME!
I am no longer able to think of people in prison without
remembering that they have faces. They are people who have made
mistakes and, in most cases, done some pretty stupid stuff, but people
nonetheless.
remembering that they have faces. They are people who have made
mistakes and, in most cases, done some pretty stupid stuff, but people
nonetheless.
Since that first visit, I have been in about fifteen different
prisons in the United States and Mexico. I have eaten horrible food,
played dominos, been to church services, and visited Administrative
Segregation (AdSeg, what most people call solitary confinement). I have
talked with men who had only a few days left on their sentences and men
who would never leave. I’ve told the story of the prodigal son through
the bars of a cell to a man who wept into his towel so no one could
hear him. I’ve done a video interview of a teammate who visits prisons despite the
fact that his daughter was murdered. I had the privilege of leading a
man from Arlington, TX, convicted of attempted murder, to faith in Jesus Christ.
I’ve had the undeserved honor of introducing men to Jesus and reminding
others that he still loves them, despite their crimes and their sin.
prisons in the United States and Mexico. I have eaten horrible food,
played dominos, been to church services, and visited Administrative
Segregation (AdSeg, what most people call solitary confinement). I have
talked with men who had only a few days left on their sentences and men
who would never leave. I’ve told the story of the prodigal son through
the bars of a cell to a man who wept into his towel so no one could
hear him. I’ve done a video interview of a teammate who visits prisons despite the
fact that his daughter was murdered. I had the privilege of leading a
man from Arlington, TX, convicted of attempted murder, to faith in Jesus Christ.
I’ve had the undeserved honor of introducing men to Jesus and reminding
others that he still loves them, despite their crimes and their sin.
The picture above is of me and a few other teammates receiving our crosses from CFL. Once you go on five CFL events, they present you with a cross made from prison bars that says “I was in prison and you visited me.” I don’t what to say about it except that it is one of my most prized possessions.
