Your Name is a strong and mighty tower
My brother is in prison. There is just no nice way to say that. And there is no way to tell a story that really isn't my story; I'm more the bystander on the road of the hit and run. So in that there is a story to tell, a story that glorifies God.
In the last 20 days since I watched my brother be handcuffed and taken to prison from a courtroom, I have learned more about life in a prison cell than I have ever wanted to know. But now I want to know. I know that you are moved into solitary confinement when your life is threatened by other inmates. I know that for two nutty bars, you can get your head shaved by another inmate. You shave your head so you can sleep better. You have no pillow and your mattress is 3 inches thick. Your food is mostly covered in brown gravy and you are given Crystal Light to drink, which I suspect causes your hair to grow in darker. Sometimes you get a little carton of milk or a piece of fresh fruit and you are SO happy.
You lose track of time; you fall asleep somewhere after 3 a.m. when breakfast is served and you sleep until it's your time for a visitor, or your time out in the common area. You can request sleeping pills but you do not. You take sudafed so you can breathe in the moldy air. I know that this prison cell has one small square window in the door that looks out to nowhere. I know that when the air conditioning is broken it doesn't get fixed. There is unbearable heat that keeps you up for days, there is no ventilation. I know there is a triangle of sky you can see in the common area and you never go outside. At least not in this prison.
I know that nothing is certain. I know that my brother was taken from his cell 2 nights ago at 2 a.m. and put on a bus. I know he was sent to Beeville or Huntsville to be processed, whatever that means. I know he was put in with the general population and was/is probably scared out of his mind. But trusting God wholly. Depending on who you ask, someone will hear something in 3-5 days of where he is. Or get a call from him in the next month. Then he will be moved again, to a final prison where he will actually begin serving his sentence, probably two months after he began life in a prison cell.
I know that God is with him. I sense it and his letters are full of God's grace and peace. I know about the men that were in his bible study and I pray for them by name. I know they sensed the day he was moved that it was going to happen and prayed for an extensive time over him for protection. I know God gave him a strong believer for a cellmate, another worship leader who sang songs with him through the night. I know my brother is so much closer to God than he was before, and He was pretty close to him before this. I grow weary of trying to explain this to people who only know what he did. Many can't wrap their mind around this; don't even want to hear it. The judgment for what he did too strong. God is a God of transformation to the repentant and obedient heart, whether we find the sin acceptable in society or not.
My brother has been, and always will be, one of my best friends. He was a mentor, a counselor, a protector. He still is. Five years ago his life changed with a sickness, an operation, more sickness, and severe depression for the first time in his life. A depression that led him down a dark road where he made choices so unthinkable, so grievous and hateful to most of us. When I got the news of what he did, the grief inside me repeated over and over "what kind of place were you in, that you thought that this was the answer?"
Two and a half years later, God has just done so much. And is doing so much. When does He ever do less? We are the ones who do less. My brother and his wife and children are being prepared even more for the ministry they will do together, are doing together. His wife is amazingly strong, a fighter always. She is the personification of "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" to me. She is my hero.
For those of us standing on the side of the road, we can't help but be changed, to be grown by God. There is no going back to the old, and the path ahead with Jesus is unseen through the forest for Steve and I. But I'd rather be in the unseen with Him any day of the week, than in the seen without Him. So that's where I'll stay, that's where I'll go!
But I am like a green olive tree
in the house of God;
I trust in the mercy of God
forever and ever.
I will praise You forever,
Because You have done it;
And in the presence of Your saints
I will wait on Your name, for
it is good.
Psalm 52:8,9
In the last 20 days since I watched my brother be handcuffed and taken to prison from a courtroom, I have learned more about life in a prison cell than I have ever wanted to know. But now I want to know. I know that you are moved into solitary confinement when your life is threatened by other inmates. I know that for two nutty bars, you can get your head shaved by another inmate. You shave your head so you can sleep better. You have no pillow and your mattress is 3 inches thick. Your food is mostly covered in brown gravy and you are given Crystal Light to drink, which I suspect causes your hair to grow in darker. Sometimes you get a little carton of milk or a piece of fresh fruit and you are SO happy.
You lose track of time; you fall asleep somewhere after 3 a.m. when breakfast is served and you sleep until it's your time for a visitor, or your time out in the common area. You can request sleeping pills but you do not. You take sudafed so you can breathe in the moldy air. I know that this prison cell has one small square window in the door that looks out to nowhere. I know that when the air conditioning is broken it doesn't get fixed. There is unbearable heat that keeps you up for days, there is no ventilation. I know there is a triangle of sky you can see in the common area and you never go outside. At least not in this prison.
I know that nothing is certain. I know that my brother was taken from his cell 2 nights ago at 2 a.m. and put on a bus. I know he was sent to Beeville or Huntsville to be processed, whatever that means. I know he was put in with the general population and was/is probably scared out of his mind. But trusting God wholly. Depending on who you ask, someone will hear something in 3-5 days of where he is. Or get a call from him in the next month. Then he will be moved again, to a final prison where he will actually begin serving his sentence, probably two months after he began life in a prison cell.
I know that God is with him. I sense it and his letters are full of God's grace and peace. I know about the men that were in his bible study and I pray for them by name. I know they sensed the day he was moved that it was going to happen and prayed for an extensive time over him for protection. I know God gave him a strong believer for a cellmate, another worship leader who sang songs with him through the night. I know my brother is so much closer to God than he was before, and He was pretty close to him before this. I grow weary of trying to explain this to people who only know what he did. Many can't wrap their mind around this; don't even want to hear it. The judgment for what he did too strong. God is a God of transformation to the repentant and obedient heart, whether we find the sin acceptable in society or not.
My brother has been, and always will be, one of my best friends. He was a mentor, a counselor, a protector. He still is. Five years ago his life changed with a sickness, an operation, more sickness, and severe depression for the first time in his life. A depression that led him down a dark road where he made choices so unthinkable, so grievous and hateful to most of us. When I got the news of what he did, the grief inside me repeated over and over "what kind of place were you in, that you thought that this was the answer?"
Two and a half years later, God has just done so much. And is doing so much. When does He ever do less? We are the ones who do less. My brother and his wife and children are being prepared even more for the ministry they will do together, are doing together. His wife is amazingly strong, a fighter always. She is the personification of "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" to me. She is my hero.
For those of us standing on the side of the road, we can't help but be changed, to be grown by God. There is no going back to the old, and the path ahead with Jesus is unseen through the forest for Steve and I. But I'd rather be in the unseen with Him any day of the week, than in the seen without Him. So that's where I'll stay, that's where I'll go!
But I am like a green olive tree
in the house of God;
I trust in the mercy of God
forever and ever.
I will praise You forever,
Because You have done it;
And in the presence of Your saints
I will wait on Your name, for
it is good.
Psalm 52:8,9