Each time I go to the Jail to speak I wonder 'what will God do tonight? Will I sense His presence in that miraculous way again? Will hearts be touched, will souls be moved and encouraged along their way?'
I'm an old man, and as much as I complain about bodily aches and pains, age has its benefits. Jesus said we must become like children to enter the kingdom of God, and sometime I think being a grandfather or father figure helps.
It always amazes me how my first impression of those who filter in to the meeting room transform after I get to know them.
Last night a woman, thirtyish, entered first alone and she walked in boldly, but eyes averted from mine. We greeted each other and she was a very "rough cut." Browned skin, her neck completely tattooed; her face had two small tats around each eye, her teeth; suffice to say they were in need of a great deal of work.
One might think she and I would have little to unite on, to connect with: oh! but when the sweet Spirit begins to descend, this rough cut of a woman changed before my eyes into a little helpless girl.
For some, my old age reminds them of a caring parent or grandparent, and walls come down quickly, and God uses my age to soften and open hearts. Such was the case last night, this woman watched me, and was captivated by every word we read. She had no Bible knowledge, and would not count herself a Christian, but she did say she's always prayed. She didn't share anything about her past, but it was evident she's gone places she woefully regretted, and here she sat, heart open, mind clear and hungry to learn and find hope.
I chose a passage beginning in Galatians 5:13 from The Passion Translation, which has a warmth to it that some translations lack. We began reading one verse at a time and discussing each line in depth; it began with,
"Beloved ones, God has called us to live a life of freedom."
I couldn't help wonder if she ever lived in freedom? Freedom from grief, from oppression and dominance, freedom of spirit, freedom to grow and express herself, advancing spiritually, and as a woman, freedom to seek her aspirations and hopes, and....dreams.
I can't recall anyone that showed such enthusiasm and delight reading the holy lines we covered; her poor scorched soul drank in every word, with a childlike joy and hunger. What a moment, what a joy, what a privilege to be there!
I don't know if I'll ever see her again, but Jesus met with us last night, and she felt it, saw Him in His word, and I have no doubt it was a divine appointment.