Tales From The Lions' Den, Volume 4
"Watch out for the angels!"
"Watch out for the angels!"
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During my twenty six months imprisonment at the Westville Correctional Facility –
September, 2000 through October, 2002 – I was housed in eleven different dormitories.
Moving from one dormitory to another, for the most part, meant getting to know and
becoming known by 79 or 80 strangers. And on my first day in a new dorm, I always wanted
to ask around to learn if there was an ongoing, daily Bible study or Christian prayer group
meeting. If there was, I joined in the group. If not, I started one by sitting on the floor at the
closed end of the hallway after evening chow with my Bible open. In this way I met the other
professing Christians on the dorm first and began to minister among them. But there was one
time when I had no opportunity to employ this strategy, which is one of two reasons why I
remember the date of that dorm change: September 13, 2001. Of course the first reason is it
was two days after the attack on the World Trade Center.
I had worked a full shift in the Main Dining Facility kitchen from 4 AM to 12 noon. When I
arrived at the kitchen dorm, I was told to pack up and be ready to move by 1 PM because I
was selected to attend Culinary Arts classes. (Hallelujah!! That meant my release date would
be six months sooner!) I was picked up by the van at 1:30 and arrived at my new school dorm
about an hour after that. And by the time I had located my room, made up my bunk and
stowed my stuff, I was more than ready for a hot shower.
As I began my walk down the hallway toward the toilets and showers area, four angry African
American men joined my walk, two on my left and two on my right. They were telling me
things that were going to happen to me in the showers in language I cannot print and hope you
can’t imagine. The gist of it was: if I lived I would be wishing that I hadn’t. And I prayed
fervently even as I kept on walking purposely toward the shower. (Do not misinterpret this
as bravery. I knew that the beating I apparently faced was not as bad as the consequences of
displaying my fear in this circumstance. There are some things worse than a painful death. It’
s a prison thing. I simply chose the lesser of two evils.) As I walked on praying fervently, I
heard my own voice speak out with a boldness I certainly did not feel: “You fellas just watch
out for the angels!” (It was a Holy Spirit thing. My first thought after hearing myself speak
was: I’m a dead man for sure now.)
But in two… three steps more at the most I became aware that those men were no longer with
me. I found myself alone taking a long, hot shower. Well, there were no other men in the
showers with me; but I really was not alone. No, I felt His Presence and I was thanking my
Lord and Savior for always being with me in time of trouble.
Now may I tell you the real miracle? That very evening I met with other Christian inmates at
the other end of that hallway. After a month, I noticed men sitting in the doorways of their
rooms listening to my teaching and hearing the good news of Jesus Christ. One by one, some
of them joined the group after evening chow. And over the course of the next several months
it was my privilege to baptize three of the four men who had greeted me with threats of harm
in that very same shower. Oh, Glory to our God Who desires to save every man and woman!
Who will use anyone willing to become His servant! Even me.
September, 2000 through October, 2002 – I was housed in eleven different dormitories.
Moving from one dormitory to another, for the most part, meant getting to know and
becoming known by 79 or 80 strangers. And on my first day in a new dorm, I always wanted
to ask around to learn if there was an ongoing, daily Bible study or Christian prayer group
meeting. If there was, I joined in the group. If not, I started one by sitting on the floor at the
closed end of the hallway after evening chow with my Bible open. In this way I met the other
professing Christians on the dorm first and began to minister among them. But there was one
time when I had no opportunity to employ this strategy, which is one of two reasons why I
remember the date of that dorm change: September 13, 2001. Of course the first reason is it
was two days after the attack on the World Trade Center.
I had worked a full shift in the Main Dining Facility kitchen from 4 AM to 12 noon. When I
arrived at the kitchen dorm, I was told to pack up and be ready to move by 1 PM because I
was selected to attend Culinary Arts classes. (Hallelujah!! That meant my release date would
be six months sooner!) I was picked up by the van at 1:30 and arrived at my new school dorm
about an hour after that. And by the time I had located my room, made up my bunk and
stowed my stuff, I was more than ready for a hot shower.
As I began my walk down the hallway toward the toilets and showers area, four angry African
American men joined my walk, two on my left and two on my right. They were telling me
things that were going to happen to me in the showers in language I cannot print and hope you
can’t imagine. The gist of it was: if I lived I would be wishing that I hadn’t. And I prayed
fervently even as I kept on walking purposely toward the shower. (Do not misinterpret this
as bravery. I knew that the beating I apparently faced was not as bad as the consequences of
displaying my fear in this circumstance. There are some things worse than a painful death. It’
s a prison thing. I simply chose the lesser of two evils.) As I walked on praying fervently, I
heard my own voice speak out with a boldness I certainly did not feel: “You fellas just watch
out for the angels!” (It was a Holy Spirit thing. My first thought after hearing myself speak
was: I’m a dead man for sure now.)
But in two… three steps more at the most I became aware that those men were no longer with
me. I found myself alone taking a long, hot shower. Well, there were no other men in the
showers with me; but I really was not alone. No, I felt His Presence and I was thanking my
Lord and Savior for always being with me in time of trouble.
Now may I tell you the real miracle? That very evening I met with other Christian inmates at
the other end of that hallway. After a month, I noticed men sitting in the doorways of their
rooms listening to my teaching and hearing the good news of Jesus Christ. One by one, some
of them joined the group after evening chow. And over the course of the next several months
it was my privilege to baptize three of the four men who had greeted me with threats of harm
in that very same shower. Oh, Glory to our God Who desires to save every man and woman!
Who will use anyone willing to become His servant! Even me.