Captivated

I've been on those tours of old prisons that are now closed down, but I've never been to a real prison. At least, I hadn't been to one until last week. The church I'm attending here in Lubumbashi does a prison ministry once a month. We take a team to the prison to deliver a message and then give them some food. I decided to tag along last weekend and see what it was all about. The prison we went to is in Kipushi, which is about an hour and a half drive from Lubumbashi and right on the border of Zambia. I didn't really know what to expect from the prison. All I knew it was cramped and not the greatest of conditions for the prisoners. When we got there we were led into an outdoor gathering area. All the prisoners were gathered in this courtyard, seated on the floor watching we set up our things in front of them. A family from my church had come along and sang some songs for the men. The message was then given and then we passed out food. They are not fed very well so I'm assuming they really appreciate the food we bring, even though it is not much. I got to help hand out the food so I got to look each prisoner in the eye as I handed them food. I had no idea what any of these men had done to deserve to be in prison, but I never felt uneasy or afraid. I felt sorry for them. I probably sat in the same room with them for 2 hours, sitting towards the front so I could see all their faces. I didn't feel like I was better than anyone of them. I've made tons of mistakes and done terrible things like I'm sure these men have, yet I am the one who could walk out of that prison whenever I wanted to.

It was one of those times, which seems to happen a lot to me, where I try to be a blessing to someone but they end up blessing me more. It also reminded me of Ephesians 4. While Paul is in prison he gives this message to the church:

"While I'm locked up here, a prisoner for the Master, I want you to get out there and walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don't want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don't want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline—not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences."

I have the opportunity to run, yet I often find myself sitting on my hands or going down these dead end paths. The prison visit reminded me that I am not a captive of my sin and I need to steadily running on the road God has called me.