Today was an interesting day. Oliver had to drive to another prison to pick up some dehydrated potatos and since our house is the halfway point between the two, he stopped in for a quick bathroom break. I thought it would be nice to take the trip out there with him since he had to come right back by home on his way back to work. It really is a beautiful ride and it was a beautiful day. We made the trip out there and as we were heading down the small road leading to the prison, I noticed a big bus gaining ground on us in the rearview mirror. Turns out it was a Tennessee Department of Corrections bus filled with prisoners. We arrived at the gate with the bus hot on our tails. Oliver told the guard why we were there and the guard said he had to process the bus first and we had to move over to another parking lot to wait while that was being done for security reasons. Protocol. How long can it take to empty a bus? That was the million dollar question today.
So there we were in the heat just watching the events unfold as to how much goes into checking inmates into a prison. It is not an easy task. As we watched, we were both able to get lost in our own thoughts. Oliver is used to the "prison life" having worked in that environment for years. It still gives me the willies. But I was a captive audience and I'm a pretty quick learner. I learned that the different colored clothes that they wear actually mean something and have to do with the seriousness of their crime. At first I wanted to just sit there and shake my head and wonder what stupid choices they had made that landed them there. Wrong thought. God got a hold of that one real quick and as I looked at these seemingly normal men, I have to admit that it was increasingly hard to tell who were the bad guys and who were the good guys. Some of the officers looked rougher than some of the inmates.
There probably are some of them that chose to be there. Perhaps they were men down on their luck, with no bed, food or clothes and the prospect of prison sounded better than their chances out on the street. Perhaps they did something foolish to get caught so that they could have a clean bed and warm food. Some of them looked like this was the first clean, white, t-shirt that they have ever worn in their lives. Are they bad people, as we're led to believe, or men who made bad choices, or men whose life circumstances have come to dictate where they are. Are they really much different than me? When I was younger, things were much clearer. Life was in black in white. Right or wrong. Good guys and bad guys. No one questioned which group the Lone Ranger fell in. These days the lines are not so clear. A few weeks ago, one of the correction officers was arrested for smuggling contraband into one of the jails. He was supposed to be a good guy. That same day an inmate saved the life of another by responding to an emergency in an appropriate way. Not so black and white anymore.
Today I sat there and as I watched from outside the "yard" that had several layers of barbed wire that was razor sharp and two tall fences to boot, I had to really look at the men on the other side. Oh some were being tough guys, no doubt, but the majority were just sitting there waiting, much like I was sitting there waiting on the potatos. Just passing time in a life that none of us really belong to. A butterfly came and perched on my arm just long enough to let me see the beautiful colors that it was adorned with before fluttering to the other side of the fence. She didn't need to go over there, she just did because she could. Those razor sharp barbed wire fences did nothing to stop her from her destined flight. She fluttered around, darting from one side of the fence to another. I had to chuckle as I recalled the verse that says, Joh 8:36 - So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. That butterfly can come and go as it pleases because of the freedom she has been given from above.
At first I felt that the prisoners probably deserved to be there but as the time waiting went by, I started to think a little bit differently. What if they were victims of their circumstances and knew no way out? What if they just made an instantaneous poor choice and got caught. I know my actions haven't always been squeaky clean and very easily could have landed me there as well. Not that I did anything intentionally but merely inadvertantly. What if they were innocent victims themselves? It does happen.
As I looked through the fences and watched them go about their business in the yard, I really began to see that we had more in common than we really had seperately. They may be locked behind walls of man's making that consist of brick and mortar, fences of steel and armed guards, but am I not locked up in a body that fails me, with issues standing sentinel to keep me in tow and people standing at the ready to show me my place and keep me there? Is my prison much different that the one that my eyes saw today? It made me think that we all are in prisons of some sort and without the grace of God, we could be stuck there for the rest of our lives. I got to drive away from the physical prison building after collecting the potatos and head home, but the prison that I live in just rode along in the car with me. The bindings that hold me down are no less strong than the shackles that bound the prisoners, just more socially acceptable.
Tonight I'll pray for the inmates and hope that God reaches them through the quiet of the night and gets a hold on their hearts. Once that happens, it doesn't matter what side of the prison door you are on, the enemy has no jurisdiction in your life anymore. And while I'm at it, I'll pray for those of us who are stuck in a prison of our own, unable to break the hold it has over our lives. I want to live as the butterfly. Free to come and go as I please with nothing but God's awesomeness reflected in my wings
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