What We're Not Here For*

I visited a nearby prison with a friend today and conversed with the seven inmates who joined us for Bible study. I've learned both from my friend and from the application I filled out to volunteer that it's inappropriate to ask the women details about their imprisonment. But the details are often offered by the women themselves. Today one of them, a mom, shared that she will be moved soon to a state penitentiary; that when she heard the news, she fell apart, knowing she'd be even further removed from her kids. One women is in for a hard six months for violating parole while another expects to be released soon and is worried about falling into the very same traps that landed her in prison. I've realize over these weeks of visiting that prison, so foreign to me, is very familiar and more than home to many in the group with whom we visited today.

One woman in attendance arrived in tears, explaining that she had just been moved from one block to another. "I have a lot of anxiety," she explained. "The block where I was houses about 20 women; I'm in with 40 women now and that's hard." But then she said, "I knew this was coming. I've been too comfortable, and I'm not here to be comfortable. I'm here to change and grow." I was and am still stunned.

The truth is, the women we visit have few comforts; all are dressed in orange scrubs, white socks and sandals or sneakers; all have prescribed and limited possessions, eat what is served them and sleep when the lights go out at a designated time. The number of sheets and blankets and types of pillow is also prescribed; being caught with more than the designated number may end in deeper discomfort. 

Crazy that it's possible to become too comfortable in prison, but I'm not here to be comfortable either. I'm here to change and grow, but I have to admit that I'm doing everything I can to be as comfortable as possible.


*(dedicated to my friend Penny Hood whose email reminds us that we should resist the urge to become too comfortable)