October 25, 2014
God has lessons for us in the strangest of places. Prison is not one of the places I would have expected to hear from God. Tomorrow our "other" kids, Bob and Bri, and their children will worship with us at Park church for the last time before moving to Texas. I can't find words to express how much I want to be there, to hear her sing one last time, to sit behind Bob and the kids as we praise God together. I had no idea when I made the commitment to this weekend ministry that it would fall on this last weekend they would be with us. There was no way to know; when I signed up, they weren't planning on leaving the area. I toyed with the idea of skipping out on the last Sunday till I remembered what my mother taught me years ago: "When you make a commitment, you stick with it even if something better comes along."
So I'll be in prison with aching heart, doing my best to minister to these men who need Jesus so desperately. I was sharing this dilemma with the small group of men at our table when it dawned on me that suddenly the tables had turned and I was the student; they were the teachers. I don't know what they are in for, or for how long, but I do know they all have families, wives, children, parents whose birthdays they are missing, whose lives are going on without them. Their children are growing up while they wait behind bars. I understand that it was a choice, a foolish and sinful decision, often merely the last in a series of them, that landed them in prison. I am there of my own free will; they are not. Somewhere along the line, the men with whom we were working at our table had made decisions to repent and begin following Jesus, but the consequences of their prior actions didn't just evaporate because of their change of heart. But change of heart is what they've had, and the gravity of their actions is increasingly apparent to them.
My heart breaks to think I won't be where I really want to be tomorrow. But this experience is a reminder to me of the separation these men live with often for years. And it is a reminder that before the beginning of time when God made the decision to rescue us from our sins, there was a separation far more heartbreaking to him than my temporary one. The Bible says Jesus became sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in him. Sin separates. It separates us from God, from one another, from life. And my sin separated the Father and the Son as the latter hung on the cross and was laid in a grave. The story doesn't end there. Jesus ascended on high, is seated at the right hand of the Father, and someday will return to take his wayward children home: the Grand Reunion! Until then however, the heartache remains as so many of his children are still wandering, missing out on the joy of fellowship, even as I will miss this precious time with people I love. I long for the day when reconciliation is complete, all God's children are gathered together, and the praise echoes throughout the universe. What a day that will be! Till then, I am thankful for the glimpses of glory I experience here and now, even if I only get to see them in a prison.
No comments:
Post a Comment