Entertaining Angels
The first two weeks in prison are the WORST!!
The first two weeks in prison were the toughest for me as I struggled to adapt to this new life. It was a life devoid of privacy, living in close quarters with strangers, and constantly under staff surveillance - especially challenging for a first-timer like me.
During those two weeks, I learned that I would be called to the medical building every day. It felt like an annual checkup, only it took two weeks to complete. Each day brought a different medical procedure or consultation.
The medical building itself was nothing like a typical doctor's office. It was crowded and noisy, making it seem more like a third-world outdoor market. There was no proper waiting room, just a long hallway with benches on either side. Going to any doctor isn’t fun but this place took discomfort to the next level. I figured any doctor working there probably had firsthand knowledge of malpractice suits.
On my third trip to the medical building, I was surprised to find the waiting hall completely empty. Maybe I got lucky this morning, I thought.
As I walked between the empty benches, I enjoyed the calm before the storm, expecting the chaos to begin at any moment.
To my surprise, nobody else showed up. Over the loudspeaker, I heard the announcement that inmate movement had closed. The next movement was scheduled for an hour later, giving me some precious time alone. I had already realized that alone time in prison would be rare, so I thought, maybe this God stuff is working out, and He's already looking out for me. I soon found out it was something else entirely.
I took a seat and zoned out for a while. After some time, I heard someone approaching down the hall, but I assumed it was a nurse and didn't bother looking up.
Then, I "felt" someone sit down on the bench directly across from me. Thinking it was an officer and that I’d done something wrong, I raised my eyes and a jolt of surprise shot through me. Before me sat a giant. A black behemoth with his head down and a tangle of dreads hiding his face. Both of his arms were a canvas of ink, telling their own silent stories.
My first thought was, Really dude? Out of all these empty benches, you have to sit down right across from me.
But more importantly, I wondered why he chose to sit there. I couldn't think of any positive outcomes from this encounter. In prison, you never knew what people wanted, so I tried to keep my interactions to a minimum.
I prayed that the nurse would call me soon.
I studied the man from the corner of my eye. He wore white overalls streaked with dirt and yellow knee-high rubber boots, the attire given to dishwashers in the chow hall. He was an imposing presence. The dreads and his sheer size reminded me of the alien from a predator movie.
In that moment, my survival mantra echoed in my mind: Keep your head down and your mouth shut.
Given the racial divisions in prison, I figured there was a good chance he wouldn't say a word. Maybe he sat there to mark territory or something. But to my dismay, he looked up and started talking.
With a voice that could have easily graced a Harvard lecture hall, he asked, "What are you in for?" The stark contrast between his speech and his appearance momentarily left me speechless.
After taking a deep breath, I replied, "Odometer fraud, rolling back the miles on cars."
He nodded thoughtfully and said, "That's not so bad. How long did you get?”
"Fifty-seven months," I answered despondently, feeling a bit guilty since my sentence was much shorter than most here. He looked like he had been in prison for a while and probably had a long time left.
"I've been in solitary confinement for nine months. Just got out last week," he shared.
Nine months of solitary confinement? I couldn't imagine. The months ahead of me seemed to stretch forever….but solitary?
"That's tough, man," I nodded, as if I could remotely understand that experience.
"I've had a lot of time with nothing to do but think," he continued. "Perhaps I could give you some advice?"
Weirder and weirder I thought, "Ummm, Sure."
"You will never get another chance like this one. Away from the world and its distractions," he said. "You can change your life right here and right now, but you have to choose. It can be a defining moment."
I nodded, thinking of the absurdity of this gang banger predator guy giving me life advice. "Want me to tell you something I know for sure is true?" he asked.
I shrugged nervously, wondering where this was going, "Maybe."
He shook his head, smiling. "I know, I can get pretty intense sometimes," he said. Then, he suddenly stopped and stared into my eyes. "Listen to me, you're not going to get another chance. This is it. Make it count."
Chills ran down my back as I stared at him, unable to utter a word. Before I could respond, the nurse called him to her office. As he walked away, I heard him murmur, "Good luck, bro."
At first, I dismissed him as just another crazy inmate in prison. But as the months went by, I never saw him again, and he was a truly noticeable guy. The entire compound shared meals together, yet he just vanished after that encounter.
Oh, and they can’t keep you in solitary for more than 90 days.
Like so much with God, I didn’t see it until later. I don't claim to know who or what he was, but I know he had a message for me. And it wasn't long before I began to realize the truth in his words. What we think about, how we spend our leisure time, and our obedience all affect our connection with God. This world is incredibly distracting, and it's a sobering thought to consider that we may be down to our last chance. I decided to try to meet this God who seemed so intent on saving me.