GANGSTER JESUS
I went from being offended by Christians and Christianity, to a follower of Jesus and it only took me 40 years and a prison sentence to get me there. This past weekend I went to a Bible study that made me think about my journey and transformation, but even more specifically, my turning points and the players that were involved. One of the beautiful volunteers that comes every month and generously gives her time coming into this prison to show her love for Jesus and us, shared about her journey and shared with us that for a long time she wasn’t a Christian. For years she had been opposed to Christianity, and then made a glorious change.
This immediately made me think about my own story and the players that were a part of my change. You must understand, I have lived my life extremely hard headed and absolutely opposed to anything and everything that has to do with Christianity. I was so dark, and my heart was extremely hardened. Some really big things had to happen to make my beliefs pliable enough for a change. I have a wonderful family and many are Christian’s. They learned over the years not to approach me because I was not a believer and any talk about God or Jesus would only push me away.
Most of my life I have spent avoiding Christianity and any conversations about it at all cost. The thought of going to church would flood me with the ultimate dread I could possibly imagine. I saw a lot of Christians as judgmental and it seemed like there were so many that used church as a crutch. I wanted no part of it.
If someone told me they were going to pray for me, I didn’t see it as something good or positive, I was offended. It sounded more to me like they were saying I needed help, which translated to being weak in my brain. I thought they were judging me, so I judged them while I thought they were judging me.
So, what changed me and my mind? It wasn’t one thing or one person. After three years after being indicted, I was coming close to the end of my pretrial (like federal probation without the conviction and out and about among the public) and close to having to turn myself in to the marshals, and I started to realize I might have been wrong about some things. For what seemed like the first time ever, it occurred to me that I had no control and no say. For the first time I was going to have to truly surrender in so many ways. I have experienced a lot of fear in my life, but nothing quite like that unknown abyss that lay ahead. There was no negotiation, no manipulation, this was happening. The word TERRIFIED barely describes what I was feeling. I knew my charmed life, that I was realizing I had taken for granted, was over and all I perceived for my future was grimness.
Somewhere around that time my hard headed beliefs started to become pliable and when I was alone at night, I would cry my eyes out and cry out to God. I didn’t know God and didn’t know what I was doing, I just did it and it felt good and right. I think back now, and I realize I was praying, really praying. Not some childlike prayer that sounded like a parrot at bedtime, but a prayer like I still do today. Now that I’m thinking back, I wasn’t praying for a way out, I was praying to get through it all. I was ready for a change. It’s kind of weird how we are naturally wired to do some things.
After the final countdown had begun and I had a date for my fate that turned out to be less than a week away, I got a message from my cousin. She wanted to meet and had something for me, which was actually a little weird because we were not close and never really had been even though she lived in the same town, but at this point, I wasn’t really close to anyone, except for my immediate family. I felt this overwhelming feeling to go, so I met her.
I will never forget this day. She told me I had been on her mind, but she didn’t know why. She told me she just couldn’t stop thinking about me and had a Beth Moore (Christian workbook) book to give me. I can’t remember exactly how this went, but I’m pretty sure I completely broke down, and I told her I was headed to prison and scared to death. I wish I could remember all the details but what I do remember is the love I felt by her despite my situation. She accepted me and there was no judgment. She did exactly what a Christian should do, she met me right where I was and loved me like Jesus did. I wasn’t offended and I felt a sense of peace. She is such a blessing in my life and she still is riding with me today. Looking back, my cousin was an answered prayer that day. One that comes out of left field and blind sides you. That day her perfect demonstration and introduction to Jesus I believe was a huge turning point in my life that I will never forget. She is amazing and continues to be a blessing to this day.
When I look back on this encounter, I can’t help but to be shocked. At no other time in my life would this have worked. Any other time this would have sent me into outer limits. With my cousin’s gentle loving, kindness, my terrible situation, and those late-night prayers, something had begun to change.
I have always been fascinated by religion, but probably more intrigued by faith. I just couldn’t get on board with a book that had been translated and passed on and on for so long, being reliable and something you could just believe and put your faith in what you could not see. I just didn’t get it, but I think I always wanted to, life would have been so much easier, had I turned around sooner. Then again, I needed this journey.
I turned myself into the marshals and went to federal holding. Being in a place where you are rendered choice less, surrounded by others, just sitting with their mistakes in a grim environment, desperately seeking a way to cope, my mission was survival. I didn’t know what that meant or what it looked like. I was to be in this place for an undisclosed amount of time, with an undisclosed future and I was ready for some changes.
Once I was in population, I had a lot of people that wanted to meet me. I felt like a weird version of a celebrity. I’m not a big deal, but federal holding is a boring place. I watched people move and studied everyone there. There was no need for television with the characters that surrounded me. There was a quiet girl up in the corner room that kept to herself, not in a shy way, but in a way that she was content. She seemed sure of herself and didn’t seem in a rush for anything. She was noticeably different from the rest of the ladies there.
I wasn’t interested in any friends and just wanted to work out. I used plastic chairs and books in laundry bags for weights. I looked like a crazy person, stayed as busy as possible, and kept my distance, this was my version of a protective layer. While the rest of the common area watched television, I was on the move pacing like a caged animal at the zoo. There were people that would join me but most just shook their heads and told me I was insane.
I can’t remember the details or how it came about, but it didn’t take long for the elusive, quiet girl and I to become fast friends. She had a lot of crazy stories, like mine, and was in for a big case, like mine. We were going to be doing some time and we both knew it. We bonded in our grim existence. Like it or not, we technically signed up for this terrible vacation through our own stupid choices, and here we were. She had already been there for a long time but still seemed to have all this hope and a lot of joy and that intrigued me. She made things fun and I constantly was looking to her for hope.
She quickly began to share about her relationship with Jesus. Now looking back, I realize most of her crazy stories had a little Jesus sprinkled all over them. She grew up in the church and knew the Bible in an impressive way. Like so many people incarcerated, she was a Christian that had lost her way after heartbreaking abuse and trauma. I was fascinated and somewhat confused by her ability to be on fire for God in that ugly place.
I told her I didn’t understand how the Bible gave anyone hope. I told her I struggled because the stories seemed to be just that, a story, and I just couldn’t believe any of it. She listened patiently and didn’t get offended, she didn’t even react, and that disarmed me. The only conversations I would entertain of the Bible were arguments, but that wasn’t what this was going to be about.
Just like my cousin, she met me right where I was. This one rolled up her sleeves and got ready to put in some work. She slowly sold me on the Bible by telling me the gangster version of Bible stories that I just couldn’t refuse; that’s right, Gangster Jesus. She was hilarious and animated, and I would sometimes laugh until I cried, but I was hooked. The first one was the story of Esther and it was amazing. Then she asked me to read the book in the teen study Bible she gave me. After the gangster version skit, I found myself able to relate. I loved the story, I loved what it stood for, I loved the hope it gave me. I wanted to be brave like Esther. Night after night she entertained me and gave me another reading assignment. I started to learn, and I began to pray for clarity and when I did, I really began to understand.
I still struggled to sit still, so God sat me down once again. During our hour of recreation time, I went outside and played sand volleyball. I jumped up to spike the ball and when I came down, I felt my knee snap. I have never had a broken bone or any injuries where I couldn’t stand. I was terrified. The medical care at that facility was horrible so I knew if it was anything serious, I was in a lot of trouble. They hauled me to medical by wheelchair and gave me some crutches and some ibuprofen and sent me on my way. No x-rays, and no one even touched it to see if something could be identified as a problem. They really didn’t even talk to me… Being in a lot of pain and not knowing what the problem is makes things tough. My room was on the second floor, so I had to battle a flight of stairs with crutches. I knew it wasn’t going to work and I was going to have to move back downstairs and have a roommate. I lost my privacy, no more working out, no more walking. It didn’t take but a minute to be engulfed in depression. People were always visiting and checking on me, but without my workouts and my mobility, I was miserable.
With all this free time, I started to read more of the Bible and Christian books. My friend continued to share stories and testimony with me and continued to guide me through the Bible and she spent a lot of time praying with me. I read about people that were healed through prayer, so I told her to do it. She said, “do what?” I said, “put your hands on my knee, pray and heal me.” Because why not me and my knee. I kid you not, by the next morning I felt a huge improvement. It wasn’t long until I felt comfortable giving the crutches up. I’m the kind of person that thinks if a little is good, a lot is better, so every night we did this until I was back to working out and I have never had a problem again.
That was almost three years ago, and I totally forgot until I started writing this blog. It’s funny how big blessings can be so easily forgotten and sometimes never counted. It’s obviously still in my head because I pray for healing for the slightest thing still today. Jesus is my only hope for a doctor, and I have learned to fully rely on prayers for any ailment.
It wasn’t too long into my stay at CCA federal holding, that I gave my life to Christ and was even baptized in a makeshift pool in a broom closet. When I look back at my year there, it was like a honeymoon with Jesus and the whole experience was like some insane spiritual boot camp. God had brought me thru the wilderness after 40 years and here I was, a Christian and a whole new person. I was taken from everyone and everything I knew and loved and tossed into an abyss of confusion. This was the only recipe that would have worked for me and looking back I am so grateful.
Even the chaplain was the most humble, compassionate, pastor I had ever met. He spent a lot of time with me and helped me work through so much of my dark past. Then it occurred to me that the people that have been to the darkest places were the ones I was able to reach. He helped me become the Bible fairy and I ran around passing them out and made sure all new people had one. I preferred the teen study Bibles because so many of us were baby Christians. Everything really did happen for a reason.
In conclusion, if you have a loved one that is incarcerated, the good news is it may be the perfect time to reach them. This may be the only chance you get where their values and beliefs are pliable due to despair and tragedy. Technically they are a captive audience, but if you ask for my advice, I will tell you to approach with caution and love. Be very careful, don’t make sudden moves and don’t expect a quick miracle, but if it happens, that is AWESOME! There are a lot of people that swear this is where you bring out the scripture and damnation, and I completely disagree. Don’t try to speak “Christianese’’ to someone that doesn’t know that language; that would be like someone speaking in tongues without a translator. The most effective people are the ones that are broken, but with testimonies of grace and transparency about their faults. Reaching people through storytelling is a great way. “Remember those in prison, as if you were there yourself.” You can’t go wrong with the Book of Hebrews and you can’t go wrong with love. There are some people that are going to require you to roll up your sleeves, do it. Pray for that person, pray for God to guide your words and soften their hearts. Don’t give up.
Things that helped:
1. A teen Bible or a study Bible for any age. A baby Christian is a baby Christian no matter what age. Don’t expect them to get through a King James version.
2. When tragedy hits, it may just be the time to strike. This is when values and beliefs are on the table for negotiation.
Christianity is about joy, so teach with it. My friend’s Gangster Jesus stories were fantastic, and I will never forget her or those crazy stories. I am so grateful for her laughter and keeping things humorous and fun. That is how you get people to consider change.
