Hi Mar,
Thanks very much for bringing up this topic.
Several years ago, I was involved in a ministry that wrote to inmates. I spent almost 10 years doing this, and during that time, went to 5 maximum security prisons to visit a few of the inmates I wrote.
Being someone who was always called a "goody two-shoes" all my life (and not in a complimentary way), it was one of the most shocking, eye-opening, and yet rewarding experiences of my life. I was trying to think of some of them I could share about that time but this post would wind up being several pages (and probably chapters) long.
One of the things I'll never forget is the fact that no matter what we do, God still has a purpose for our lives. An inmate I wrote had told me he had AIDS (and this was at a time when people were much more frightened of HIV than they seem to be now) and believed it was his calling to care for other HIV positive inmates, because they had been quarantined and shunned by both fellow inmates and the prison staff.
Another time, I went to visit someone and noticed an inmate in the room who was in a wheelchair. The person I was visiting told me that some of the other inmates bathed, dressed, and took care of this disabled inmate, and it got me thinking about how it doesn't matter what our situation is, God is always calling us to find a purpose in serving others. No matter what had landed these inmates in prison or for how long, if they were willing, God still had meaningful work for them to do.
My own personal rule (just for myself) was that I never asked them about their cases unless they brought it up. This was because I figured they were used to being seen as a case number instead of as a person, and most times, they were more than willing to talk about their lives.
I greatly miss this type of ministry work and have longed to go back to it for years, but have felt God has kept me from it for many years due to personal safety. I've looked into other local prison ministries but they all seem to consist of just preaching to the inmates, which is wonderful in its own right, but I'm always someone who needs something more interactive. I need to be able to learn about the people I'm trying to be there for.
In the meantime, I have been blessed to still keep in touch with one person from that time. I used to visit him regularly for many years while he was in, and he now that he is out, God has blessed him enormously. I told him he's doing 10 times better than most people who've never been to prison, and that includes me! But he was always different from the very start, even when I first met him. Even though he was in prison, he always had a job and was always taking classes or in programs to prepare him for life beyond the walls. Every time he finished something, he would send me copies of his paperwork and certificates (that included logos, current dates, and signatures of authority) as proof, even though I didn't ask him to. If I sent him money to help him buy something (such as work shoes, seeing as one of his jobs was maintenance), he sent me receipts to prove that this was what he spent the money on (and again, I never asked him to prove anything to me.) He even asked me to give some of the money I had set aside to help him to my church so that he could tithe.
Last year I was able to visit him in the midst of his new life. Prior to that, I had never spent any time with him outside a prison visiting room. I joked about how strange it seemed to be having food in a real dining room that was made in a real kitchen and didn't come from a vending machine!
I wish I still had every letter we ever exchanged, but unfortunately, I only have our correspondence from the past 5 years or so. One of these old letters states that we first started corresponding nearly 20 years ago, and it's hard to believe that much time has gone by. During the time I was visiting, I got to meet his family, see where he grew up, meet the people and see the organizations who had helped him with his education and career, and talk to the woman he was currently dating. It was an amazing experience and I felt that God had now brought everything about our friendship to a full circle.
His family had already known about me, but he would tell everyone else we went to meet, "This is (Seoul), and she used to come see me almost all those years I was in..." His family, teachers, and mentor who helped him get his current jobs kept saying, "Thank you for believing in him." He himself had told me many times that having contact with those who care from the outside world is what keeps an inmate human.
The funny thing is, people like us (on the outside) might be thinking we're trying to help someone, but in the end, it's amazing how much God will help you through that other person. Because so much time went by, I had a few major life crises of my own, and this person would always tell me, "This is what we do: we get out our Bibles and we FIGHT," even though I thought I had given up a long time ago.
However, I also want to stress that it's definitely not all rainbows and miracles or for the faint of heart (which I'm often guilty of myself.) Most of the other inmates I wrote had no interest in changing or bettering their lives, and clung on to all the wrong things because it was more exciting or it was all they knew. Nothing stretches your faith like having someone write you in coded language that they stabbed someone a few days ago (in prison), and you know in your heart that they don't feel any remorse. It also makes you take a good hard look in the mirror because you wonder what you would do in the same situation (for instance, what if it was self-defense?) I broke contact with every other person I wrote during that time except for the one I've been talking about. I wish and pray for the best for the others but he stood out because he was earnestly working to better his situation from the day I met him.
I truly wish I could go back to this kind of work but as I said, I don't feel I have "clearance" from God at this time. Towards the end, a young woman who was doing similar ministry work was murdered by an inmate who had escaped and gone looking for her. When I read this story in the paper (it occurred in another part of the state), I knew God was telling me that my time had come to a close.
I have to admit that I often wish I could go back to doing this kind of work, but if that never happens, I am ever grateful for what God taught me during that time. I am especially grateful for the friendship I made because without seeing it for myself, I would not have known that people can truly change (although I have to be realistic in that it seems very rare.)
Please keep us posted if you get involved in this type of ministry and God bless you for remembering that people in prison are still people who need to see God's love through other people (like us!)
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