When I first started the prison feeding program there was
ninety-two men in two cells. The conditions were bad, but nowhere near as bad
as what they could be I have now learned. Today we cooked for 180 people. Still
they are placed in the same two cells. They can’t even sit down at the same
time let alone lay down to sleep. The main problem I’m facing now is that there
are so many of them they can’t hear me when I try to speak to them. I’m praying
for them, but only the few that are crowded around the cell door can hear me. I
told Kenzy the other day if they are getting rice but not hearing the gospel
then we are wasting our time. That’s not why I decided to help these men. Rice
will fill their bellies for a day. The gospel could last them for eternity.
So, the other night I woke up around 2:00 in the morning and
couldn’t fall back asleep. I laid awake and thought about a lot of different
things like most people usually do on nights like that. Right before I fell
back asleep I had an idea to start writing letters. I have such a short amount
of time to speak with them, but a letter can be read over and over again. The
next morning I woke up and started praying that God would give me the words to
write. I set down at my desk having no idea what I would say, but as always God
gave me exactly what I needed. I wrote two letters, one for the men and one for
the women.
When I reached the women’s prison things went smoothly. The
women were really excited about the idea of receiving letters from me, and they
even asked if they could write me back. I said yes, of course. I’m anxious to
see what letters they give me next week when I go to visit them.
Like always, the men’s prison was more challenging. Kenzy
and I walked into the front office to sign the forms and hand over our cell
phones. The office was busy that day. There was a soccer game playing on the
television and a large crowd of police officers and UN officials were standing
around cheering for their team. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the TV screen,
including Kenzy’s at that point. I
didn’t see the game, though. My focus was solely on the man chained to the back
wall of the office. He had a look on his face that I’ve seen many times before.
He was at the very edge of breaking down. He was fighting with everything
inside him to keep back the tears. He may have been a thief. He may have been a
murderer. The families of his victims may still be in mourning as I write this
blog now. I don’t know what he had done or who he was. All I could see at that
moment was a defeated man.
Suddenly the game ended and the men started cheering wildly.
For no reason at all, one of the police officers began celebrating by
swinging a belt around in the air and hitting the chained man in the head
numerous times with a heavy belt buckle.
He wasn’t doing it hard enough to cause serious damage. I mean, I’m sure
it didn’t feel good, but it was more degrading then anything else. The man
looked up at me with pleading eyes.
What can I do? I’m 120lbs. I’m a little pampered white girl
from West Virginia. I’m still afraid of the dark, and when I get sick I want to be babied. How could I possibly help him in this room filled
with huge scary Haitian police?
Prayer….
“Excuse me Sir,” I said, “Can you please stop hitting him for
a moment. I need to pray for this man.”
The room began to get quite. The officer looked at me like I
was a fool, and then walked away. Some
of the guards walked outside. Some whispered amongst themselves. Some just
stood beside me and stared. I held the man’s hand and began to pray. Honestly, I can’t remember what I prayed for
because half way through the prayer the officer sitting at the front desk
started screaming at me.
“Hey! White Woman, you can’t talk to that man. Stop what you’re
doing right now!”
I kept my head down and my eyes closed. My prayer wasn’t
finished yet! He continued to yell for a moment longer but when he saw I wasn’t
listening to him he quite. After I said amen I turned around to see a very
large Haitian officers staring me down.
“Don’t do that again,” he said in a stern voice. “Now get in
there and serve your food and then get out.”
I smiled as I walked back down the hallway towards the other
cells. I was able to pass my letters out and give everyone a hot meal. I was
even able to serve the man chained to the wall.
Compassion over powered hatred today even if it was only for
a moment. It was a small battle won in the midst of a war, but Jesus came out
the victor. I hope when that man looks back on his life and remembers that moment
he will remember being shown love when none was thought to be found. I pray he
will remember a Christian that shown him compassion, and he will associate that
compassion with the name of Jesus Christ.
“Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves.
Therefore be wise as serpents and harmless as doves. But beware of men, for
they will deliver you up to councils and scourge you in their synagogues. You
will be brought before governors and kings for My sake, as a testimony to them
and to the Gentiles. But when they deliver you up, do not worry about how or
what you should speak. For it will be given to you in that hour what you should
speak; for it is not you who speak, but the spirit of your Father who speaks in
you.”
Matthew 10:16-20
