A New Perspective on Hope

It's the time of year when families come together.  When consumerism skyrockets.  When the general population tends to notice the less fortunate a little bit more.  And I think some may take it for granted how blessed they are to be able to go home to their kids, spouses, pets at the end of the day.  I was able to experience a new perspective this past weekend. As a part of the music ministry at TDF, we've been branching out into the community to serve them in a few different ways this Christmas season.  Little did I know just how rewarding it would be to my own heart.  

Of all the opportunities we were presented with, one in particular really drew me in.  We have a maximum security prison for women right outside Nashville and one of our own, Melinda, works at the prison as a teacher.  She got our group on the schedule so that we could come in and hold a service in their chapel.  

As we learned more about what we'd be doing and the environment we could potentially be walking into, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit nervous.  And I know I wasn't alone.  So we're going in there...into maximum security...with nothing separating us from the inmates except empty space?  Women from all backgrounds and walks of life are in that prison.  Our intellect tells us that we're just like them, but our imaginations create scenarios that would keep us up at night.  But more so than all of that...our hearts know that God had gone before us to prepare the way and to soften the hearts of the women we'd meet.

The process to get in the prison was more involved than airport security and once you're in, behind the sliding medal door, it closes with an ominous clang.  As a "civilian" you start to think of everything you can't do at that point.  Need to look up lyrics to the song you're about to sing?  Oh wait...  Man, I need some chapstick...let me just run out to my car real quick!  Nope.  I'm so hungry...let's go grab some Chick Fil A.  Well...not today.  

When our team walked into the chapel, we were greeted by about 7 or so inmates.  The room was set up for about 60.  We were definitely expecting a bigger crowd, but no matter, we jumped right in and introduced ourselves to those women.  Corey started setting up and making sure the keyboard was ready to go while we had spread ourselves out to chat with the ladies.  As the minutes passed, we started thinking we'd just be having this service for these 7 or so women and that would be okay because we would give them our best.  And then, the "floodgates opened".  Suddenly the room was full, almost every seat taken.  We only had a certain amount of time there so we didn't want to let any of it go to waste.  Corey introduced himself and started right on in with the music.  We sang worship songs and Christmas carols, shared scripture, and a few of us got to sing specials.  

Russell and I got up to sing Mary Did You Know.  I was a ball of nerves.  We had our lyrics up there with us and I made sure I was situated to where I could see them.  I started to sing, and noticed that a lot of the ladies were singing along or mouthing the words.  I didn't look at those lyrics a single time.  And by the grace of God, I got through the song without dissolving into a puddle of tears.   I hope I don't ever come across as conceited about my singing, but when I own a song and say thank you to those who compliment me, I want to make sure they know where it comes from.  Who it comes from.  I don't do a lot of things really well, but music is something I have a gift for.  Given to me by God. And I want to use it to glorify Him to the best of my abilities.  

Some of the women were standing by the end of the song.  Some were wiping away tears.  While we had done the first worship set, a few were even lifting their hands in praise.  Women who are behind bars...with no freedom...being told their every move from sun up to sun down, praising God because of who He is.  Corey's devotional was centered around hope.  A theme we're embracing this season.  And the reason for all the outreach is to try to give hope to the hopeless.  He shared this verse at the end: Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. Psalm 130:7  And stressed that he hoped we would all meet again in eternity if we never got to see them again while we were here on earth.  He prayed something like a sinners prayer so that if any of them wanted to accept salvation from God, they could do it right then.  

Some of those women will never step foot outside that prison ever again.  But they can still have hope in a God who cares about every single one of us.  And they can have freedom in Christ.  Some have parole hearings coming up and have a lot to look forward to...and maybe after that service, will decide to put their hope in something greater than just their earthly freedom.  When we were done with our prepared service, we still had about 20 minutes left.  They requested a few songs and one inmate even got up and sang.  Bless her heart, she changed keys about 4 times and was nervous as could be, but I was in tears thinking about how much my God was loving that.  The song she sang was "Who Am I" by Casting Crowns.  She only did the first verse and chorus, but those lyrics are so rich.

Who am I, that the lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt?
Who am I, that the bright and morning star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart?

Not because of who I am
But because of what you've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who you are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you hear me when I'm calling
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling
And you've told me who I am
I am yours

All I could think was who am I?  I'm not behind bars.  I'm generally a nice, rule-following citizen.  But I'm still a sinner.  And in the eyes of God, I'm on the same level with the inmate that sang those words.  When the last inmate had left the chapel and the team was waiting to leave, a few of us asked when we could come back.  This experience was something not many people get to have...or even want to have.  But once you do real kingdom work, it's hard not to want to blaze trails for God all over the place.  Those inmates have few resources when it comes to holding a worship service.  They have one chapel and many religions who make use of it.  But I'm a part of a church family who is rich with spiritual and musical gifts.  And it would be a shame not to take advantage of that.  

At the end of the day, I walked away with a sense of responsibility.  To always use what I've been given to further the kingdom.  To never waste an opportunity to share the gospel with someone.  To look at everyone in this light of hope...how I interact with a stranger may be the difference between them being hopeful and hopeless.  Anyone can wind up at their rock-bottom, and that's exactly when we need to extend this hope we have.