The penitentiary mess hall was tidy but colorless and institutional; that is, void of any warmth or contrasts. Barred windows and sulky workers. Inmates shuffling past counters of tasteless, stench-filled food that fell barely within government nutritional guidelines of minimum vitamins. I suffered through lunch in the Officer’s quarters and was astonished at how they managed to eat this unappetizing menu with such relish and enthusiasm. I had lost my appetite for this torture when I was informed that the green baby lima beans were really creamed corn! And a fish head was floating around and looking up at me from the sea-food soup! It was a blessing to escape from this noxious event and begin the lengthy walk to the Chapel.

An unpretentious Asian guard or as they prefer to be addressed, Correctional Officer or C.O. for short, began escorting me out of the cafeteria into the dimly lit hallway, down some metal steps and then through a labyrinth of twisting and turning, often loud catwalks past bad-tempered prisoners on lock-down.

In one particular corridor, our gait has hasty but my eyes were drawn to the darkened prison cells in a blurred kaleidoscope of unshaven faces and slumped or sleeping bodies. All at once I stopped in my tracks and turned back to the cell I had just passed by. I had seen an attractive woman stretched out on the bunk in a very alluring pose!

Now wait a minute, wasn’t this an all male maximum security prison? What was a seductive woman doing here? I had turned so abruptly that the Officer did not think to respond before I looked again into this cell to ascertain that it wasn’t a female but rather a transvestite with long silky hair, a smooth shapely body and very obvious breasts. Horrified is an understatement!

Our eyes met in an uneasy brotherhood as I asked, “Would you like to receive Jesus Christ as your Saviour and be born again?” He leisurely got up and off his bunk, then glided in a seductive manner to the bars in front of which I was standing. As he drew nearer and I was able to scrutinize him more he said to me, “How can I change what I’ve done to myself.” His masculine voice startled me. I responded, “You must be born again. You need to change on the inside first and that begins with permitting Jesus to be your Lord. He is the God of miracles and you will become a walking trophy of His grace if only you will become willing and believe.” He looked me in the eyes and whispered, “I want to do that very dearly,” and began to sob uncontrollably.

We slipped to our knees right there on the cold concrete and tenderly held hands through the bars. A woman with man’s hands asking God for a spiritual healing. We prayed a heart-felt prayer and he sincerely asked that he would be delivered from homosexuality and become the man that God had created him to be. Just then the C.O. took my arm securely and said sharply, “We have to keep moving.”

I learned months later that he was severely beaten by his “husband” and repeatedly raped by homosexual “gang-bangers.” The prison administrators had learned of a contract on his life so they transferred him to a single cell in protective custody. The last word I received is that he is remaining steadfast in the Word of God and his family has raised the money for cosmetic surgery to physically reconstruct his manliness.

 TOM AND JERRY

The joy of birthing was a double blessing to the exhausted mother, having given birth to two healthy sons. Identical twins! They were so similar that a ribbon was placed around little Jerry’s wrist so that his daddy could tell which one Tom was.

In time they were snuggled in at home and differing characteristics began to be obvious. Jerry was always happy, ate well and slept through the night, while Tome was cranky, had colic and cried all through the night. As years passed by and kindergarten began, Jerry was buddies with everyone and happily shared his toys while Tom was constantly fighting and hitting his playmates with anything handy. Soon the pre-teen time arrived with Jerry attending Bible studies and praying for Tom. Meanwhile, Tom had lost his virginity, was stealing and smoking crack. Well into the young adult years, Jerry became a church youth leader while Tom was selling drugs, pimping for whores and carrying a pistol. Jerry soon graduated from college, started a family and was a respected deacon in his church, still continuing to pray daily for Tom to be born again.

The contrast in their lives grew even sharper as Tom’s drug addiction caused him to begin a crime spree of robbing and killing innocent bystanders.

One night the police received a tip that Tom was planning to hold up a crack house so they sent two armed policemen to apprehend him while the crime was in progress. Tom crashed through the door, shot the drug dealer dead and filled his pockets with all the dope and cash he could carry. But as he turned to leave the two cops burst through the doorway with pistols drawn. Tom shot them both dead and escaped on a motorcycle he had parked nearby. He was not a cop-killer!

The syndicate and police were both after him dead or alive, either one would do. He had made the top tem most wanted list! Tom robbed, shot and killed his way across the country with nowhere to go, not even to his heroin sources. Exhausted, yellow eyed, shaking and deathly sick, lost in the swampy woods, he put the barrel of his gun into his mouth. “I’ll never hear the bang,” he thought. At that moment he remembered his only friend in the whole world, his brother Jerry.

Determined to see his brother one last time, he found renewed strength to sleep by day and hitchhike by nightfall, finally reaching his brothers home late one evening.

Jerry was startled by the midnight knocking on his back door. Cautiously, he looked out and faintly saw his long lost brother Tom! He threw open the door to greet what was left of the twin brother he once knew. Tom had become almost toothless, skin and bone, vomiting blood. Jerry helped him to the shower, scrubbed him down and then led him back to the kitchen in fresh pajamas, to a hot meal his wife had prepared and then slipped away so they could be alone together.

There they sat at the kitchen table. Tom and Jerry. Darkness and light. Identical twins.

Tom poured out his heart as Jerry intently listened and silently prayed for Tom’s salvation as he had done so countless times over the years. Meal completed and in a flood of tears, the brothers knelt on that had wood floor and Tom asked Jesus to be the Lord of his life. True, heartfelt repentance. The Angels were rejoicing at this extraordinary trophy for the Lord.

Jerry made a bed for Tom on the living room couch and Tom settled down to the first good nights sleep he had had in months. As the morning dawned, Tom awoke and panic stricken could not find his brother Jerry anywhere in the house. Jerry’s wife said, “He went to see your judge.”

The judge! Tom’s mind went ballistic. The judge was the last human on earth that he would ever want to meet up with. The “Hanging Judge” had vowed not to retire until he convicted Tom and personally watched him die by hanging! No one on earth hated Tom more than the Judge. And Jerry, his twin brother, had gone to see him. Blind with confusion and terror, Tom quickly dressed and drove their second car to the courthouse. The last place on earth Tom could ever dream of going was into the private chambers of the judge. A nightmare come true. But that was exactly what he did as he pushed the secretary aside and burst his way through the thick oak double doors.

The silver haired Magistrate was seated at his large imposing hand carved desk, head on arms as Tom shrieked, “Where is my brother?” He continued, “I’m finally here. I’m Tom, the cop-killer you vowed to hang!” All the slump shouldered old judge could manage to say at this point was, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God no!” Tom shook the judge as he demanded, “Where is my brother Jerry? Tell me right now!”

The judge began calmly, “Around 3am I was summoned to the court room because your brother Jerry had surrendered himself to the authorities. You both are perfectly identical twins, you know. I convened court, found him guilty of first degree murder as charged and he was executed by hanging less than an hour ago.”

Tom broke down screaming and crying, “You’ve killed an innocent man for my crimes! I’m the one you want! Hang me!”

The judge replied, “We’ve completely destroyed all of your records. You don’t even have a parking ticket.”

Tom, still dazed replied, “What an I going to do now?”

The haggard old judge thought for a moment and then wisely suggested, “An innocent man was executed in your place. He paid in full for the punishment that you deserve.” He went on, “I would suggest that you live out the rest of your life as Jerry would have lived his life. He died so that you might live. Live you life in memory of him.”

I FOUND HIM IN HELL

Mr. Carnal was a professing Christian that lived an exemplary life. He was a deacon in his church and taught Sunday school Bible study. All the congregation looked up to him and the pattern he set for others to follow. On the outside, the side all could see, he was the husband and father that all the women wished that their man would become. Unknown to everyone was the real truth that on the inside he confessed that Jesus is Lord but never became obedient to His lordship. He was living a lie that finally caught up with him in a sudden and unexpected death!

He died and went straight to hell.

As he looked out over the glowing lake of liquid flames, the abhorrence and inexpressible torture he witnessed was more than his damned soul could bear. As far as he could see was a holocaust of screaming human beings thrashing about in the white blistering conflagration, begging to die and escape this deathless tribulation.

Silently, Satan himself slithered up and rasped, “I have you!” He responded, “I know. I never confessed Jesus AS my Lord,” and began to sob. Through tears he pleaded, “I beg you, give me 24 hours more before you throw me into that lake of fire.” Satan smiled a toothless smirk and growled, “Granted!”

He hesitated and then began trudging along the steamy shoreline while flames licked at his exposed carcass. Reaching down from time to time to hoist up to eye level one wretched body after another, he looked them full in the face and cursed with all his pent up venom of loathing. Again and again he would choose and grip an anguished cadaver to curse as he eventually found his way around the smoking abyss, counterclockwise to where he began his twenty-four tedious hours before. He was totally spent and lacking the strength left to stand in front of the immoral one who had patiently waited for his prey to return.

As he collapsed on that smoldering shore, Lucifer quietly approached and hissed, “Your time is up! But before I cast your body and soul into the black inferno, I must ask you just one last question. Why were you doing that?”

The condemned looked up and gasped, “I was looking for that preacher that told me I was saved!”

Satan’s twisted features gleamed with pride as he snarled, “That was me who told you that you were saved!”

I love the outdoors! The fresh smell of a spring breeze, sunshine and lazy summer days, the gentle falling of autumn leafs, and the gusting winds of many winters past and yet to come. Oh, how I love life and the liberty to reach for the sky with all that is within me.

What a blessing to live in the midst of my ancestors and yet have the privilege of watching my families grow up around me, tall and strong. Rooted and settled in a land of flowers, sunshine and gentle rains, and God’s creation in its fullest.

It was a dismal day, my worst in memory when I was uprooted and taken to a foreign land on a hill that was so depressed and foreboding. I ached with pain and terror as this wretched group of carpenters fashioned me into something I never dreamed of becoming, a cross. As wooden as I am, I still marveled that man was taking me the good and changing me into bad, the cross that the Son of God would be nailed to. What greater horror could I possibly go through!

I was totally depressed and dismayed until I recalled the lessons that were passed on to me from tree to tree since the Garden: What man has made for bad, God will use for good. This comforted me that maybe there was a reason for me to be picked to be the death stake of Jesus the Christ.

I bore the body of the King as they nailed him to my arms. I felt His pain and wallowed in His sorrow. His blood streamed down to the ground that wept in agony. The King was crucified and I was what held him up. Wait a minute. I held Him up! He was the King! Then that made me the throne. I was blessed to hold the King of Kings in my arms and lift Him up to the Father as He became the salvation for mankind. What greater honor could any tree have but to have embraced Jesus for the last time before He slept in the ground and then raised Himself up to His former glory?

I just know that I will be remembered for all times: the symbol of His sacrifice. When others look at me the will think of Him. And when they look to you, will they see Him?

Maximum security penitentiary leaps off the screen of a James Cagney movie with long metal catwalks and tier after tier of cages holding the incorrigibles locked down 23 hours a day. The level 5 security risks are separated into four geographical quadrants so that even a chow or shower-time, the gangs cannot assemble together. Divide and conquer is particularly applicable to this bizarre nation of murderers and mutilators doing life without parole sentences.

Once a month, at my evangelistic service, the chapel is the place where all the campus general population is restricted to a central and presumed contained location; the chapel! As over four hundred inmates began filing in by group sections, I was painfully apprehensive that two high-powered rifles were being directed at them by sharp-shooters from the safe position overhead and behind my back. They assembled into their respective gangs; Chicago, East St. Louis, gang-bangers, black Muslims, white Aryans and of course the Christians.

The Warden came up to me and he said that he anticipated an insurrection to take place because he was compelled to allow sixty trouble makers and effeminate homosexuals from Protective Custody to join us from the balcony overlooking the auditorium. These infidels could not even live their own kind! The bottom of the barrel.

The balcony began to fill as they flexed their muscles, sneered and could he heard cursing the name of Jesus. The crowd was growing anxious and I sensed the presence of Satan. I signaled the praise team to begin singing and I dropped to my knees in foreboding desperation of the danger I had led my devoted volunteers into. I cried out to the Lord and began rebuking Satan with all the faith that was in me. A hollowed hush fell over the chapel and through tear blurred eyes, I looked out over the assembly and witnessed a modern day miracle.

About two hundred Christian prisoners had turned their backs to me and were standing upright, in the midst of this living hell. They lifted their holy hands to the balcony and began praying out loud in the Spirit of the Lord. Those few minutes seemed like an eternity as I observed the Spirit of God rush through that demon possessed gallery of incorrigibles. Behold, fourteen notorious gang leaders rose to their feet and cried out to Jesus for salvation! With tears streaming down their faces, the overwhelmed gang members on the ground floor began to stand with their leaders to do the same and I had yet to deliver a word of my sermon to any of them. I cried out, “There is a God!”

The service then began and at the completion I gave an alter call. The alter was flooded with a sea of repentant sinners. I was sobbing too hard to even recite a sinner’s prayer, so I handed the microphone to the black Pastor assisting me. He too was helpless to say a word. So a prisoner doing a double life sentence plus 50 years led them to the throne of grace; the old rugged Cross.

When the service had concluded and the men were led out cell block by cell block, I gathered uou team for praise and prayers of thanksgiving. I later learned that 23 shanks (weapons) were left on the stage! Faith coupled with fervent prayer had prevailed.

I FOUND HIM IN HELL

Mr. Carnal was a professing Christian that lived an exemplary life. He was a deacon in his church and taught Sunday school Bible study. All the congregation looked up to him and the pattern he set for others to follow. On the outside, the side all could see, he was the husband and father that all the women wished that their man would become. Unknown to everyone was the real truth that on the inside he confessed that Jesus is Lord but never became obedient to His lordship. He was living a lie that finally caught up with him in a sudden and unexpected death!

He died and went straight to hell.

As he looked out over the glowing lake of liquid flames, the abhorrence and inexpressible torture he witnessed was more than his damned soul could bear. As far as he could see was a holocaust of screaming human beings thrashing about in the white blistering conflagration, begging to die and escape this deathless tribulation.

Silently, Satan himself slithered up and rasped, “I have you!” He responded, “I know. I never confessed Jesus AS my Lord,” and began to sob. Through tears he pleaded, “I beg you, give me 24 hours more before you throw me into that lake of fire.” Satan smiled a toothless smirk and growled, “Granted! 

He hesitated and then began trudging along the steamy shoreline while flames licked at his exposed carcass. Reaching down from time to time to hoist up to eye level one wretched body after another, he looked them full in the face and cursed with all his pent up venom of loathing. Again and again he would choose and grip an anguished cadaver to curse as he eventually found his way around the smoking abyss, counterclockwise to where he began his twenty-four tedious hours before. He was totally spent and lacking the strength left to stand in front of the immoral one who had patiently waited for his prey to return.

As he collapsed on that smoldering shore, Lucifer quietly approached and hissed, “Your time is up! But before I cast your body and soul into the black inferno, I must ask you just one last question. Why were you doing that?”

The condemned looked up and gasped, “I was looking for that preacher that told me I was saved!”

Satan’s twisted features gleamed with pride as he snarled, “That was me who told you that you were saved!”