free indeed

It took all day Tuesday to cover, but Wednesday I got to return to the prison an hour from here for another baptism.  Imma have a hard time EVER saying no to these. Who gets to go into prison to witness prisoners set free!

I would have bought tickets. 

Forty men this time were baptized, one after another, some under street names and some under the ones mama gave them. There were no families there this time, and being family for those men was a heavy gift. I collected all the names and stories I could after, tears still soaking my t-shirt at seeing man after man brought out of the water, free indeed. Singing praises together. 

washed in the water

washed in the blood

I'm as good as new

oh hallelujah

It always hits me, singing about the blood in Emmanuel's veins...the murders and the lacks of forgiveness both sent Him to the cross. The rapes and the gossip. The sinful attitudes and the sinful actions. The worry. The complaining. The lack of trust. The drug deals. The Thefts. 

It ALL was enough for God to send His Son. I need it just as badly. It was shed just as much for me. 

I was just as lost. I am just as lost without Him. 

My brothers in Him are every bit as free. 

It's powerful.

As men were being baptized, "CONVICT" printed on the back of all their soaking shirts, the Lord drew my attention to a GIANT of a man standing in the doorway.  Not in. But watching. 

He was huge in stature and huge in shoulders and arms and chest...with a black plastic beaded cross around his neck and white t-shirt.  Glasses.

I asked Matt who he was, and Matt, who teaches at the prison almost every Wednesday now, told me his name. Some kind of gang enforcer in his past life.  I asked him to introduce me later, but as soon as the last man was brought out of the water, Matt was surrounded by brothers checking in. 

I spoke to a few men, and then saw the giant man was still alone.

I never ask them what they did (I sure am thankful strangers don't ask me what I've done!), just where their families are and to tell me about the people they love.  The church prison ministry makes fun of me for this, but I decided from before I ever started going to prison that I would approach every brother there as if they stole some kid's bike.

I introduced myself, starting straight up into his face, and asked him where his family was.

California, he said quietly. I came a long, long way to screw up this bad.

Jesus came further to make it right, I heard myself say. 

He knew. 

He told me how much he loved coming to church. The dingy, dark gym in the middle of the prison.

Life out there he says, pointing his head towards the cell block, is all struggle, all the time. All fighting. All struggling. All effort. But you come here, like today, and it's just joy. Everybody's thinking about the same thing. Just Jesus.

I think about Wellspring. The sunny, peaceful sanctuary. 

Do I come there with such joy...a place where the striving ceases and we're all about Jesus?  Do I come there for the same freedom my new friend comes to the gym for? Do I come there for the same washing? Do I bring the same awe and grateful heart over what He's done? 

One by one, these brothers with 2 and 3 life sentences have been becoming members at Wellspring.  Several told me this time seeing my Wellspring shirt, "Hey! I'm a member at Wellspring, too!" and man does it make my heart glad.

I have the sweetest picture of all my Wellspring brothers and sisters together from Wednesday, grins as big as heaven on everybody's face. Wish I could show you.  The Lord isn't finished.

I'm so thankful what He asks us to do--feed the poor, love the orphan and widow, visit the prisoners, speak peace, choose joy--somehow always blesses us back more.