No Internet in Prison

      Most people think that prisoners have access to modern amenities while in prison, like Internet, education, even work. That is far from the truth.  My son just recently moved to a two person cell. Before that he shared a 6 by 12 room with 2 other inmates.  I cannot even imagine his living conditions.  He said they managed to work out a system to give each one some privacy for bathroom use, but if the urge came during the middle of the night they had to make the best of the situation.  They are locked in at 9 and remain locked in until 5 the next morning.  At my age nature calls at least two times a night, so I guess I would wake everyone.
      During the day the prisoners can travel to different places. They can visit the library, the yard for exercise, the mess hall, or return to their cells. They remain in the selected area for 1 hour until they are allowed to change locations.  Matt described the environment as "high school on steroids." The inmates are usually loud, picking at each other, and watching their surroundings 24/7.  I was complaining about how loud my school lunch time was with 100 second graders  and he told me to multiply that by 10 and imagine it all day long. I got a headache just thinking about it.
       The library does have a few books. Most are donated from inmates who leave and give their personal collection to the media center.  Matt does not have Internet access, which makes it extremely hard to do his school work.  His dad and I have paid for him to go to college while in prison.  He attends the Ohio University's College for the Incarcerated. The college is accredited and all courses are 100% correspondence.  He reads his lessons then takes a quiz under the supervision of a prison official. He asked if it was an official college and his dad said it better be since we just paid $1500 for a course! With typical Hobby humor, Joe said he wanted a bumper sticker that read "My money and my convict go to Ohio University!"
        Matt can receive email but only through a specific website that is monitored by the prison.  He has to send a request and the person on the outside responds. His email are not free but they are cheaper than phone calls.  Phone calls are made direct and charged through his account with the Federal Board of Prisons.
        Some prisons do offer jobs where prisoners can earn a small amount of money, but Matt has not been able to get a job at any place where he has been.  There is a system of priorities and those who have been there the longest are the first to qualify.  With prison overcrowding, jobs are difficult to acquire.
         I have learned quite a bit about our Federal prison system during this journey. I know we pay way too much for a system that really doesn't reform the way it should. I guess that's why the Bible tells us in Hebrews 13:3 to " Continue to remember those in prison as if you were in prison with them." I never thought much about that verse until it became a part of my life. The only one who can truly reform is the Lord Jesus Christ. Please pray for all prisoners.

Happy Birthday, Matt!

   Today is my son's birthday and I'm feeling guilty about not being there for a visit. Since he has been in prison his birthday has not fallen on a visiting day. We just visited him two weeks ago and I guess I thought I would've been swamped with first of school responsibilities, so I did not make plans.

   I've done all the birthday festivities a long-distance mom can do: text, phone call, presents (money in his account). I just feel bad that I'm not there for a hug. We can't get a cake, but we could celebrate with a honey bun and a Coke.

   I know he will get cards from his church family, but mine will be late. No one realizes how hard it is to pick the right card for a guy in prison. One friend shared her birthday card dilemma with me, complete with pictures.

Can’t Celebrate

Can’t enjoy the good things in life!

Can’t enjoy something good to eat!

I just pray that he can count his many blessings on this day! I know I can find a card that says that.

                         HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATT!

Why I Go to Church

     Recently I received a strange request from my son. With limited interaction with the free world, he has begun to notice God in action in his prison surroundings. I see this as a major step in his rehabilitation. He presented me with a strange question from a fellow inmate. Apparently, in describing his family to his work-out buddy, he mentioned our church. The inmate asked Matt to inquire as to why I go to church. After some deep consideration and self-reflection, I came to the following summation for answers to his question. My email read as follows:

Dear Matt,

Tell your buddy there are several reasons I go to church. The first is a commandment from God: Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. I do not believe that it has to be a Sunday, but I do believe that we are called to worship The Lord. Worship is a way to show God the respect we have for him. It's all about God and not about us.

I also believe there are scriptures that encourage corporate worship, By corporate worship I mean going to church with other Christians. Colossians 3:16 says" Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God."

We are to encourage fellow Christians and where better to do that than at church. Hebrews 10:25 "Not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."

There are many other verses. Hebrews 12:28-29 “Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire”.  Matthew 18:20 says, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

The book of Acts talks about the church in the early days. After Pentecost and the Holy Spirit coming down, early Christians met together to encourage one another. It talks about the different spiritual gifts given to each person by God. They are supposed to work together to be the Body of Christ. You can't do that staying at home away from other believers.

This is just a few, but I hope you can see my point. Plus, your Dad and I would have had a much harder time with your trials if it had not been for our church. 

Love you bunches, Mom!

      Prison is a strange place in many aspects. My son has survived because he is quiet, smart, and stands over six feet five inches tall. He has learned to watch his steps and always consider the possibilities of what could happen. He has had to defend himself once which cost him several days in the SHU, Special Housing Unit.

When I asked him why he did not attend church at the prison, he was very clear. He did not want to associate with any specific group. Due to our Christian nature of forgiving and loving others, those who cannot fit in with any prison group find themselves welcome in the Christian community.  To some this can be perceived as a weakness, and being weak is not a positive trait in the prison population.

     Whether he attends a corporate worship service or not, I can tell by his words and actions that he feels the presence of the Lord. Why else would he even bother to ask me about church?  I know one thing: he is prayed for each and every day by many different people.  I tell him often that God has a purpose for leaving him here since he has narrowly escaped death countless times.  My only hope is that one day he will share his story of God’s grace in his life.

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Notes from The Heroin Forum

        Following is a synopsis of the notes my husband, Joe, took at the community panel meeting about heroin. The forum entitled “Heroine in Alabama” was presented by local National Public Radio affiliate WBHM  last week. Over 300 people attended the meeting, a testament to how serious the heroin problem is in central Alabama.  There were two panels of five people each who answered questions from a moderator and from the audience.  The panels were composed of experts in the field of drug abuse research, law enforcement, and recovery.  This segment is focusing on heroin the drug.  Joe will give a synopsis of his notes on treatment and law enforcement issues on a later blog post. 

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 Facts from the Heroin Panel Meeting at Work Play

Alabama is the number one state in the country for opiate abuse from prescription painkillers.   One theory as to why this has occurred links physician protocol to chronic pain management. In the early 1990’s it was common practice for physicians to prescribe opiates to patients with chronic pain who found little relief in over the counter medications. Physicians considered those who were low risk to opiate addiction and prescribed opiate painkillers for routine pain management.  In recent years a high incidence of abuse and addiction has made prescription painkillers much harder to obtain.  The lack of availability for prescription drugs has moved more people toward the use of heroin, which is relatively cheap, very powerful, and easy to get.  In turn, Alabama has become a large market for the drug, which is most likely manufactured in Central and South America. Drug cartels actually "brand" their heroin by labeling it, much like types of cigarettes. Also, the strength of heroin is not always consistent between batches, so the same dose could produce a high one week and lead to death by overdose the next.

 The Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) lists the three worst drugs in North Alabama as Methamphetamine, Heroin, and Cocaine.  Heroin use is growing at an alarming rate, and is expected to continue to spread throughout Northern and Southern Alabama.  There still seems to be a bit of a stigma about using heroin, but it is vanishing. Drugs that are considered the pathway drugs to heroin use have little stigma at all.  Some abusers are even skipping the pathway drugs and starting with heroin.

          Heroin basically changes to morphine once it enters the body.  It attaches to nerve receptors and creates euphoria.  Unfortunately, it takes more and more of the drug to create the same feeling as the body's tolerance of the drug goes up.  A pattern soon develops in which the user needs more and more of the drug.  Some addicts say that at some point it stops being about getting high and instead becomes about just not quitting and avoiding the pain of withdrawal. They are angry they have to have the drug, but they will do almost anything to get it.  Addicts will stop seeing people as people.  They see them as either obstacles to them getting high, or instruments in helping them get high.  When addicts are high, they are mellow and euphoric.  When they are not high, they can easily become angry or violent. 

          One noted statistic:  the demographics of a heroin user are white, upper middle class, and well educated.  Most are in their twenties. Heroine is typically used in a suburban location, but purchased in an urban location.  Some addicts admitted to using heroine to cope with other life issues.

           One panelist, Judge Joyce Vance, considers heroin the most lethal drug ever.  The Birmingham area had 147 documented heroin overdoses in the past year, which is higher than the number of murders for the same year. The death rate from heroine is rising among whites.  

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I can't post a blog without a little ray of hope. So you ask, what can we do? How do we stop this monster? I do not have the answers, but I have a few suggestions. I think we need to educate people about the use, abuse, and availability of heroine. I think we need to come together as a community of faith and offer support and love for families dealing with these issues. And most importantly, we need to pray. Pray for the knowledge and wisdom of how to this situation. Pray for the families. Pray for the addicts. Pray for God to intervene! Pray! Prayer always offers a ray of hope!

                                                                                      

Just like a Carnival Ride

        It is hard to write about visiting anyone in prison and truly express the emotions and feelings that permeate before, during, and after a visit. For those who have never had the opportunity, the experience is much like a day at an amusement park complete with all the stomach turning, gut wrenching, head aching and pleasure filled moments as a trip Six Flags.  Each step is like entering a new carnival ride, uncertain of the feeling it may bring.   The anxiety and worry combine with excitement and expectation to produce a tense, uncertain, yet pleasurable sensation that remains long after the day is done.

         My husband and I start out, now on a Saturday morning, with a long trip before we reach our destination. We are excited, yet a little unsure of what lies ahead. We have on our comfortable shoes for walking the distance and standing in line. We have plenty of money for snacks since we cannot take anything with us into the establishment.

         We meet at the entrance with all the other visitors, most of whom have come early in order to get the most out of the visit. We line up in order of our arrival and sign in time. We are all there for the same reason, identical goals and objectives. We all hope for a good experience, but we know that there may be a sudden change of events that disrupts our journey.

         We wait with anticipation as we begin our first ride of the trip. When my name is called I step forward. My stomach drops. The ride begins. I hold my breath as I walk through the first tunnel. The slightest bit of unnecessary baggage will set off a loud alarm. I hold my breath and pass through in silence. I've made it through the first ride.

         I relax and enjoy a brief moment of relief before the second ride. After a prior bad experience on this ride, I feel a panic attack building. I take some deep breaths and try to convince myself that everything is going to be ok. I feel my breakfast trying to break free from my stomach but I fight it down. I smile at the attendant the whole time, but inside my head is pounding. I watch as the wand circles my thighs and buttocks area. I listen, but this time there is no electronic clicking, no printer typing, and no trace of chemical residue. I have escaped the wrath of the Ion Scanner. My head clears, my stomach settles and I head on to the third ride.

       The third ride is the most enjoyable. With the exception of a few safety issues, (They lock the doors behind you as you move from one area to the next.) this ride is pleasant and fulfilling.  It's a peaceful ride, much like a floating down the Lazy River, no ups and downs just calm, smooth gliding. I get to spend time with my son, get my share of hugs and kisses, and talk about the future and not the past. For a few hours, I get to be a mama who has nothing better to do than love on her first born. This is the time The Lord allows me to remind Matt of his purpose in life, to reassure him that God has a plan for his life, to fill him with hope.

        The last ride is quick and easy. It's a reverse of the first rides, but without the anxiety and worry. With a simple check and a notation of the time of departure, we are ready to head home. Like any day at an amusement park, it is exhausting. The constant tension that comes with uncertainty, takes both a mental and a physical toll by day's end. The best part are the memories that I keep until my next trip.

          Whether it's a trip to prison, dealing with death, disease, divorce, or any problem, we all feel like we are on a carnival ride at times.  We feel tossed and tumbled, confused and disoriented. What we need is the calm and peace of knowing things will work out. The ride is only temporary. What lasts is the peace of knowing that a savior by the name of Jesus Christ controls the ride. He can calm the sea. He can stop the ride. Even better, He can hold our hand all the way to end of the journey! Praise The Lord!

Another Complete Christmas

            With a son in prison, it's another Christmas without my complete family. That seems to be the norm since my grandmother left us. I remember the Christmas Eves of my childhood, with aunts, uncles, cousins and food. Now we are lucky to get a meal where everyone can sit down and eat peacefully. We actually accomplish that better at Thanksgiving now that we go out for our turkey dinner.
            Christmas feels different since my visit to Israel last March. I must say that Jerusalem and Bethlehem were much too commercialized for my ideas of the Holy City, but I found comfort and connection with my Lord and Savior on the mountainsides and the valleys. Much like life itself, I had to get away from the busyness and the masses to find my peace with God.
             On one of our daily trips, we visited the old city of Capernum. There we saw the actual house of the mother-in-law of the Apostle Peter, the place where Jesus healed her. I knew without a doubt that Jesus had been there.
         While standing alone in the ruins of the synagogue having a quiet time with my Lord, I asked if He had been where I was standing. In my mind I recalled the verse in Matthew 28 where Jesus said "low I am with you always." No words had been spoken until I answered with the comment, "Yes, you are!" When I spoke the words I heard  "Yeshua" which is the Hebrew name for God.
That was an "aha! " moment for me! I had felt the presence of the living God right in his own country, right where he had stood, right where he had healed, right where he had lived . Even though I was in Israel, I had felt Emanuel, God with Us, the same one who is with us now at Christmas and forever, the God who is with us always, wherever that may be.
       Those memories of Capernum have encouraged me this Christmas season. Through Christ, my family IS together.  We are a complete family, even when separated.  My son may be in prison, but Emanuel is with him and with me. Praise God!

A Most Unusual Opportunity

       Today I was given a most unusual opportunity for service. While loading borrowed tables for a yard sale, I was approached at the door of my church by a strange woman who had appeared out of nowhere. She had seen the cars and moved on the opportunity to ask for help.  It was obvious from her smell that she had not bathed in some time, yet her skin was not dirty and the clothes she wore looked clean. She explained her plight but my mind was hearing the words through the filter of a skeptic.

         As she spoke, I began to feel an unsettling in my abdomen. I knew she was about to ask me for money and I was not in any mental state to entertain questions. I was busy. Too busy to even think up excuses for why I had no money or who I could refer her to for charity. Her most immediate need was money for gas.

         I continued with the task at hand and told her the only thing I could do at the time was go with her and get some cash from my bank. She agreed without hesitation. I could tell by the sneer on the face of my companions that they doubted her sincerity and truthfulness. Yet, something in that small voice I call a conscience told me to listen. Trust my inner feeling. Open up my heart.

        I decided to take a chance. My mind began to overflow with questions and thoughts. What if that were my Matt, homeless and hungry, even if it was because of his own actions? Would someone take a chance on him? If everything really is a gift from God, why am I so hesitant to give money to a total stranger? Would God want me to feed his sheep even if they were drug addicts?

        Shaking from the emotional stress I pulled into the service station. A simple thought had changed my course of action. I explained that I only had a credit card, but I would buy them gas and a meal. She agreed and pulled next to the pump. After purchasing the gas, I invited them to meet me at the Dairy Queen.

          I waited briefly in the parking lot, contemplating my actions. When they pulled up all 3, yes 3, got out. I knew without a doubt I had to pray with these strangers. I had to go one step farther than simple charity. I had to tell them that God loves them unconditionally.

         As I stepped up to the counter, I told the young man that these were God's guests. They had approached me with a need and I was going to feed them. His response was heartwarming. He said not many people do that now days, so he was going to give me his employee discount. His gesture was assurance that I had made the right choice.

           We sat down to wait on the meal and I seized the moment. I reassured them that regardless of the reason they were where they are today, God loves them. I prayed for their deliverance from these circumstances and I thanked God for giving me the opportunity to be His hands and feet.

           Having a son in prison has changed my perspective on people and really life in general. Hardships have a way of molding our character, of bringing us closer to God, our Creator and Protector. For those of us who try, we can see others a little more through His eyes and less through our own.  If we look closely, we just might see a glimpse of His Glory. Better yet, we just might get to BE a part of His Glory.