Incarceration

Tuesday is prison day.

I don't go into prison expecting to be the "spiritual worker" who brings succour and elucidation to the men in a God-forsaken land. I go in anticipation, to learn what wonderful things God is already doing there and marvel at how the words he gives me fit so well with the lessons he's already teaching.

This afternoon I spent some time with Edwin who'll be released on parole on Monday. It's always a mark of spiritual maturity when a man can acknowledge that his time in prison was God responding to his prayer to be rescued from a life out of control. Some men can say that they're glad they're in prison: if they'd been free they'd probably be dead. They recognise and appreciate the lessons God's taught them, the time they've been given away from the freneticism of life to develop their relationship with him, and then to be released to a second chance of restoring family relationships.

Some are so grateful and determined not to waste their new life. 

What a shame that so many of us, the unincarcerated, continue scraping (exploding/self-destructing/sleep-walking) by and never ask for another chance.