Day 90 a year and a day

        I work with criminals. Men who for the most part have spent, ten, twenty, thirty years or more in the criminal justice system. Juvenile detention, jails, prisons, probation, Department of Corrections, it’s been the pattern of their lives. A familiar phrase that I’ve picked up from them, is a year and a day. For some reason, judges give that as a sentence for any number of crimes. The guys try to explain to me the “point” system, how much for this, how much time for that, but I’m not really into it.  I call it the “new math”, because often they will try to tell me that well, if they would have gone to prison instead of treatment they only would have done ‘x’ amount of time, with credit for ‘good time’, jail time etc.  Sometimes, the ‘new math’ makes it sound as if the prison is going to owe them time for their crimes.

        All I know is that for the men in my group, they were facing a prison sentence of 12-60 months that they traded for a DOSA, (Drug Offender Sentencing Alternative) treatment that lets them go through treatment of 3 – 6 months inpatient treatment instead of prison. That means that often men go before the judge saying, “Yes your Honor, I really need drug treatment”, just to get less time. Are they motivated to change?  Not so much.

        My job involves trying to create an environment where their motivation to find a new life, to stop using drugs, and committing crimes might occur. Yikers!! Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that without God coming into their lives in a supernatural way, the motivation to change just isn’t going to happen. Regret, shame, remorse, repentance are virtues that by in large don’t naturally occur in someone who has spent years, lying, cheating, stealing and worse as an everyday thing. Every man gets a J and S, (Judgment and Sentence) that comes from the courts. In that a brief list of their crimes is listed. I try not to focus on those crimes when I work with the guys, if I did, I might get discouraged and possibly be afraid.

        I am a 62 year old grandmother lecturing groups of 36 convicted felons about life, guilt and shame, and a bunch of other topics that many of the men could care less about. I have to keep them interested, stop them from talking unless called upon, make them put their books and homework away and pay attention. It’s a weird deal. My own family doesn’t have a clue what I do on a daily basis.

        We have rule violations written for the men by staff that I have to give the men. I have to take away privileges from big, tough, guys (most of them), who are not at all happy. Some of them argue, cuss me out, puff up like they’re going to hit me, etc. I’ve learned to stare them down, be ready to ‘go to the mat’, aka let their CCO know they are not willing to program, and have them “cuffed out” and sent to jail/prison if they aren’t willing to comply.

        Ongoing, I ask the people in my church to pray for me and ask God to surround me with His presence and protection. I pray for strength and wisdom, because with 180 of them in my building it could go wrong at any time. I’ve been with men yelling, saying they will going to kill somebody; I’ve been with men swearing, yelling, ready to hit. 

        Remarkably, a tribute to God alone, me, old lady that I am, has the highest rate for graduates on the DOSA floor. What this means, is that consistently more of the men I work with finish treatment. Our agency measures this and sends out charts, and there I am with a 94% completion rate.  I am competing with counselors who themselves were addicts, heroin, meth, alcohol. Counselors who are much younger, tougher than me, but God, who is rich in mercy, and who gives strength to the weak, continues to bless what I do.   I don’t take credit for these results. I know there are women and men who pray daily for my men, and for me. I am thankful for these prayers because sometimes the sheer magnitude of facing another day with sometimes two hours of lectures, three hours of group, 3 hours of 1x1’s, and piles of paperwork makes me want to flee to a warmer climate, far, far away from this much responsibility.

      But God, who is rich in His mercy has me tucked into a new office with a wall of windows facing the sky. Next to me is my friend who loves God and just got his Master’s degree in Chaplaincy. Next to him is our supervisor who is on his churches’ worship team, and happens to go to the same kind of church as me. He loves God and that common faith strengthens me and helps me not feel so vulnerable to the onslaught of men, many of whom are intent on doing what they want, getting what they want no matter how unpleasant they have to be.

        Truth be told, there is kind of a “prison” code where it’s not too cool to be mean to an old lady like myself, so many of the guys step up to protect me. Once when we almost had a riot, my group surrounded me in lecture and had a plan of how to get me out safely if a fight broke out. Well, remembering that time makes me want to cry. It was scary to say the least.

        I try to realize that these guys are men Jesus wants to change. That there are mothers, fathers, children, wives, brothers, sisters, grandmas, hoping, praying that these same guys will somehow quit using drugs. That they can stop worrying that they will end up dead, or in prison, again, or involved in murdering somebody, but will just be able to have “normal” lives. I try to see the good in these guys, to look for areas of promise; to encourage them to create a better plan for their lives.

        I challenge them, and encourage them to use their time in treatment to seek their Higher Power, to explore what they think about God, and to pray and ask the question, “God if you’re there, will you help me?”  I can’t tell them about Jesus, but I can encourage them to go to Celebrate Recovery or church, knowing that there the message of the gospel is preached. Many of the men share how they have asked Jesus into their hearts and lives. Some of them have been baptized.

        A week or so I thought I would soon be leaving this job, and moving on. Now, circumstance with family and financial obligations have created a situation where I know unless a miracle happens I’m staying put. Will I be there a year and a day? ( I’ve been there for three years already.) I don’t know, I only know I will continue to seek God on a daily basis to try to help me to be what He wants me to be. I know how weak I am, I know He alone is my source of strength. I cannot look ahead, the way seems too long, I can only live for today. There are so many wonderful hymns that have lines of encouragement, many of those melodies and lines come to comfort me through my days. Sometimes, when I’m walking the hallways I will sing a few phrases, the words of praise echoing off the long halls and walls. My first group room, was a round room with a ceiling of over thirty feet high. It had been the old chapel in the days that the building had been a Catholic hospital. The nuns used to come pray there and an old Catholic tapestry some 16 feet long hangs still on the wall, religious symbols woven in bright textural hues. In that chapel, the acoustics are wonderful and sometimes singing there, a “God moment” occurred and I could see that even in the darkest nights God can enter in.

        Another “God moment” occurred this week, when a church family stepped up to help me. They drove twice a day, twenty some miles round trip to take a family member to appointments. I really appreciated their kindness. There have been many other times when the church has stepped up to help my family in the last year.

        If you don’t have a church home, and you are trying to tackle the mountains in your own life alone I encourage you to take a step of faith and find a place to attend church. Yes, it’s difficult to get to know people; yes, there are challenges; but if you persist, you will find that eventually being with other people who love God will help provide strength, comfort and help for your own difficulties. My prayers go with you. You - are many unknown people who are reading this. I can see from the world map that there are those of you from the far corners of the world who read my blog, but I will perhaps never see your face.  To each of you, remember God hears and answers prayer, be blessed.