A story not mine

I sit in this prison cell writing my story, thinking about what I thought it would be and what it has become. Where I started and where I will be. What I thought would bring me happiness and fill my emptiness, and Who ended up giving me the loving peace. I sit in this prison cell writing a story. A story not mine at all. It is the story of the One who formed me, called me, redeemed me because He is mine and I am His.

I was born in a Christian family in India. I grew up going to church every Sunday with a few rupees in my pocket for the church offering. I knew all the church songs in more than one language, but I did not know the One for Whom I sang it. I simply did not have the desire to know Him. I just wanted to do my part, look good and get it over with. But that did not fill the emptiness or take away the pain in my heart. The school I went to had a few thousand students in it, but I was the only student whose religious status said “Christian.” Though I was the only Christian, I was no different than the thousand other unbelievers. It is not very often that you will bump into a Christian in India, so a lot of my friends asked many questions about Christianity. I would always try to change the subject because I was ashamed of my religion. I was ashamed because it made me look different. It made me say “no” to trips to the temples. It made me refuse the food sacrificed to idols. It made me look different to them. I was tired of being different.

I kept on living my life wearing the “Christian” tag. I kept on singing songs on Sunday mornings, putting money in the offering plate, doing my part to look good and get it over with. But I still did not know who I was doing it for, and my heart was still hurting. During that time a missionary family started attending my church. My family became close friends with them (we ended up becoming related later). They had four sons and all of them were younger than me, but they all ended up way taller than me (I still cannot figure out the mathematics in that). One day, the dad and one of his sons invited me to a mission trip along with two other American guys to a village. I agreed and started packing for it like I was going on a vacation. I did not even think of taking a Bible with me, but my sister made sure I took one. We made the long and bumpy trip to the village. The church welcomed us and after that we went straight to bed. Next morning, I woke up and found all the guys in the next room silently reading their Bibles while sipping on some tea. So, to fit in, I grabbed my sister’s Bible and sat with them while sipping on some tea myself. But I was not reading a word. I was being what I did best: a hypocrite. Then one of the two guys that came with us comes to me and asks if I would like to read the book of Philippians with him. I said “sure.” It took me a long time to find that book, and when I found it, it wasn’t without help. “What verse?” I asked. “All of it!” he replied. I was not happy with the answer, but I still complied. I started reading, barely understanding much. Yet one verse caught my eye, and I could not get past it. So, I asked him what 1:21 meant, “to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” How could dying be any kind of gain? He said, “If we live for Christ, we will live with him. When our life is about Christ then death can only mean gain because we will be with Him.” I could not understand anything he said, but at the same time I knew that everything he just said was true. A seed was planted, and that seed made my heart beat faster.

There was an outdoor service the next evening. The missionary dad was going to preach on God’s grace. Little did I know that my life was about to change in the next 30 minutes. He started speaking, and my heart that had been hurting for a long time started listening for the first time. He talked about a courtroom. In that room, God the Father was a judge, and I was the criminal about to be condemned. I stood in front of that great Judge, not bringing anything to prove my innocence because I was not. I was about to be condemned for eternity, but then the great Judge asked me to step aside because Somebody was going to take my place. Then I see this man walking in. I have heard about him and what he could do. Will he do it for me too? He takes my place in the court along with the charges and my chains. He tells me that I am free and forgiven. “That’s God’s grace” the speaker said. At that moment it was as if I was a little plant, and his grace was a hurricane. He violently and lovingly shook me. Though I was surrounded by many people, at that moment I was alone with the Son of God. I said “yes” to Jesus who took my place. The only words that came to my mind were “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”

We were on our way back home, and I was excited. I had not told anyone what had happened, and I wanted to tell my family. But there was something different that I did not expect. I felt like my conscience had just woken up. I saw things differently. Now I clearly knew what sin was, and the things I wanted to do were wrong. I felt betrayed. I thought that accepting Jesus would free me. Then why did I feel more restricted now than ever? But one thing I didn’t stop doing was to read my Bible every day.  Every day when I read the Bible I would ask God to talk to me and clear things up a little. A few months later while reading, He showed me Romans 8:18 where it says that our present sufferings are nothing compared to the glory we will receive. That was His answer to me. He asked me not to run anymore. I assured him that I wouldn’t because “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

Nearly a year later I was accepted in a college in America and was about to head there. I was on fire for God and wanted tell everyone about Jesus. I was excited to attend college in America because I had heard that the US was a mostly Christian population. I did not have to be different anymore. Well let’s just say things were not what I expected. When I got to the college, it was nothing like I thought it would be. Life seemed easier and morality was scarce. I felt more different here than in India. I tried to hold on to the One holding onto me. But my old fear crept in. So, to make my life easier, I let go of Him. I went back to my old lifestyle where I wore the Christian tag, sang songs, doing my part to look good and get it over with. If sin was a pool, I dove right in. Now my life was easier my morality was scarce and my heart hurting worse than ever before.

I lived like that for a long time which resulted in an increased amount of conviction in my heart. That conviction was fueling my anger, and my anger was waiting to erupt. The eruption happened, and two days later I was arrested. I was in a holding cell in the jail for about 10 hours. The cell was cold, and I was in a state of shock. I was ashamed, scared and angry at myself for what I had done. At last I had been caught. I finally hit the bottom, and there was no way to cover this one up. The bottom felt cold, dark and hopeless. I did not think anyone would want anything to do with me anymore. I did not think my God and my family would want me. I had betrayed God so many times. It was at that moment when I fearfully and hesitantly whispered, saying, “I am done! Jesus, if you would still take me, I will follow you.” I was expecting a wave of extraordinary comfort but there was none. The truth is what I found was that the Lord just talked to my heart like a man talks to a man and said, “Your sins are forgiven. Follow me and sin no more.” I thought about the cross and how it never moved from its place. Though I was unfaithful, my God remained Faithful. I remembered the verse in Philippians 1:21, and now it was time to make it my own, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

It has been over four years since then, and I am still in prison. In these years my God has been faithful to me. He has been good and gracious. Physically, I am still in prison, but spiritually God set me free from my chains the day I started following Him in that cold holding cell.

Job 36:15 says, “He delivers the afflicted by their affliction and opens their ear by adversity.” God used my physical suffering to take me out of my spiritual suffering. For over four years I have been carrying my cross, and through His strength I never plan to put it down. It has not been easy, but the pain in my heart has been replaced by the peace that surpasses all understanding. My emptiness filled by His love. A lot of people would say that my life is being taken away, but it is not true. I have been given a new life, a life lived for the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me (Gal 2:20). “What happened to me has turned out for my own deliverance” (Phil 1:19).

God has helped me to love Him more than I ever did before. And I know that I will be free when God wants me to be free. While in my cell, I once said to my Lord, “May I gain my freedom when freedom is not the thing I want. May I gain my freedom when Jesus is the only one I desire.” 

Psalms 126 is a song that I am saving especially for the day when I walk out of prison:

“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of Joy.

Those who go out weeping carrying seeds to sow, will return with songs of Joy carrying sheaves with them.”

Lonely Places

    I have a Hispanic friend in Christ here who is 64 years old and is in love with playing soccer. Though he is a little slow, he still outweighs us in Skills every time we go outside to play. He is also a diabetic. A few weeks ago, he was not feeling great. Normally he stays in good shape, but that day he was sweating and acting differently. He went and told the officers how he was feeling, just to hear them say to put in a medical request. Ten minutes later he had a stroke. He was taken to the infirmary. Thankfully his life was spared but something changed. When he walked in the barracks we all noticed the change, the left side of his face was now drooping. His speech was very unclear, and his left eye nearly shut. When I first saw him my heart hurt, and I was angry. I went to God, and asked him to heal that man. My mind was filled with questions, and my heart filled with desperate cries. A couple of days later God reminded me of a story.

    In Mark 1: 40–45, Jesus healed a man with leprosy. At that time, the lepers stayed in lonely places, castrated from society. They were labeled unclean and were not allowed in any sort of gatherings. Babies cannot live without touch, yet lepers were forced to. People thought lepers were cursed by God, but in the story the leper comes to Jesus, breaking all the social codes and asking Jesus to heal him. Jesus was compassionate.  He reached out his hand and touched the man and made him clean.

    I read the story in this prison cell, and I see myself as this leper who used to roam around the lonely places. I committed a crime and now I am castrated from society. I have been living without the touch of my loved ones. Some people consider us prisoners cursed by God. Sometimes even we consider ourselves cursed. But Jesus reached out his hand and touch the man. Why? I know that Jesus can heal without touching. He can heal by words and even just by a thought. So why did he touch the man? Because this leper was starving for love just like my brothers and me. Jesus did not touch the leper because his body needed it, but because his soul needed it. So often I have longed for physical freedom and healing but ignored the touch of Jesus. Often, I wanted God to move in my time so that when he didn’t, I counted his silence as his absence. So often I have been wrong. I prayed for my friend’s healing, but it has not happened yet.  Instead, a different kind of healing took place. He has been reading his Bible more. He has been praying more. His talk and smile are different now because he talks about Jesus more. 

    Being in captivity I have experienced similar things to leprosy. Yet when I asked for physical freedom and healing, God gave me much more. The day I got arrested, I promised God that I would follow Him wholeheartedly if He would set me free. He saw through me and knew that I was lying. If He would have physically saved me that day, then I would have been eternally lost. Since He kept me lost in the jail, I found Jesus and gained eternity. In this Lonely Place, Jesus reached out and touched me. Because of Him, I do not roam around lonely places anymore. Now I tell people how Jesus touched me and swapped places with me by taking my Lonely Places and lavished me with His freedom. 

    In verse 37, Peter says something profound that resonates with any and every person that walked this earth, “everyone is looking for you.” The life I used to live was filled with immorality, hypocrisy and deceit. I was trying to fill the emptiness that only Jesus can fill. In my inmost being I was looking for Jesus all along. But now, “I found the one my soul loves” (Songs of Solomon 3:4).

 

    “Without You, Jesus, my soul flies like a bird without a nest.”  - My Hispanic soccer-loving friend.

Broken Bridges

I had just finished my worship practice and was about to head to my cell. Then suddenly one of the guys asked me to sit with him. He is a 75-year-old man and has been in prison for 31 years. He is one of the biggest Christian leaders in this prison system and also a close friend of mine. When I sat down with him I sensed something different in his demeanor. Though he tried, he couldn’t say anything for a long time. He looked like a young man who was nervous, excited and anxious about something. He seemed scared but at the same time there was Joy in his tears. Finally, he said, ‘My sister sent me the address of my oldest son whom I haven’t seen or spoken to in 30 years.’

 

When he first came to prison, his son used to visit him often. But his son’s wife belonged to a prominent family and was involved in politics. Therefore, his son decided to spare the family of embarrassment and cut all ties with his father. That was the last time that the father heard from his son, 30 years ago.  In those 30 years, my friend started following Jesus faithfully. He got married and just celebrated his 19^th wedding anniversary with his wife on a video call. In these 30 years, he once died of a heart attack for six minutes, but God brought him back to life. A lot has happened in these 30 years.

 

We sat with each other for a long time. Though we consider ourselves pretty tough, and try to hide our emotions, we shed few tears together. He was telling me all the things his son used to like. He reminisced with me the childhood memories of his son. We mourned the loss of 30 years. Then he asked me what he should write to his son. I (who has barely completed the ‘uncle course’) said, ‘I do not have a clue.’ He replied, ‘Hmmm… That is good. I should start with that.’ And then He whispered, ‘I used to be a cold-hearted man. I never even cried at my dad’s funeral. But God has totally changed me and my heart. Now, just looking at the address brings tears of joy and reminds me of His grace and redemption.’ We prayed for God to give him the words to write, and also for the son, the grace to receive it in joy and thanksgiving.

 

One of the most important things I have learned after coming to prison is that relationships are important, and they ought to be honored, protected and treasured. My relationship with Jesus is the most important thing in my life. After that, it’s my family and the friends who chose to stick by me during this time. My relationship with my Lord is infinitely better in prison than it was when I was physically free, and because of that my relationship with my family is way closer now than before. But one thing I often pray for is for the broken relationships in my life to be healed one day. I learned the hard way that life is too short to tear relationships down.

 

But what hurts me more is that the people who are ‘free’ get upset with one another, give each other the silent treatment, and live in a prison of their own. In Matthew 5:23-24 Jesus says, “So if you are presenting a sacrifice at the altar in the Temple and you suddenly remember that someone has something against you, leave your sacrifice there at the altar. Go and be reconciled to that person. Then come and offer your sacrifice to God.”

 

Many of us do not have a choice for the restrictions that we are put in. Even if we want to reconcile, we are legally not allowed to do so. We want to mend the broken relationships, but we are helpless. Yet anyone who is reading this in the free world who has the option to turn around, please do. I do not want you to mourn over the years like my friend has for 30 years. Do not let the locust eat away anymore than it already has. We are helpless and cannot do anything about our relationships right now, but you can. 

 

Joel 2:25-26

The Lord says, “I will give you back what you lost
to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts,
the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts.
It was I who sent this great destroying army against you.

Once again you will have all the food you want,
and you will praise the Lord your God,
who does these miracles for you.
Never again will my people be disgraced.