And the WALLS came tumbling down

"When the trumpets sounded, the army shouted, and at the sound of the trumpet, when the men gave a loud shout, the wall collapsed; so everyone charged straight in, and they took the city."  -Joshua 6:20

"If loving other people is a bit of heaven then certainly isolation is a bit of hell, and to that degree, here on earth, we decide in which state we would like to live."  -Don Miller, Blue Like Jazz

“The true story of every person in this world is not the story you see, the external story. The true story of each person is the journey of his or her heart.”
― John Eldredge, The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God

My husband.  A man with a tender heart.  Desiring to help people.  Know people.  He thrives on generosity…even when he has nothing.  Even when it might cost him dearly.  He’s always giving of himself in service and friendship and jumps in headfirst when it comes to relationships.  I love that about him.  That’s one of the many things I love.  

Father’s day weekend in the visitation room of prison fills full and heavy.  Rick sat with us talking and laughing and loving his precious little gems who give him the honor and privilege of being a dad.  He is their brave hero, protector, and playmate who they love and trust.  And they see a man redeemed by Saving Grace being refined and chiseled and although painful...growth is a beautiful thing to see.

Rick leaned with his back up against the wall unusually quiet and pensive.   Watching the men all around with their children and families acquainted with many of their stories.  

And the ones who didn’t come.  The fathers who sat in their bunks trying to block out the pain of separation from the most important people in their lives aching to be with them …pierced by the dull drone whisper that surely  their own choices had caused the rift…gaping hollow wounds oozing so much regret.

And then he saw them.  Eyes brimming tears and lips quivering, he gulped back tears of joy.  A father reunites with his son.  A son who doesn’t come to see him.  Ashamed by his sins.  Ashamed that the perfect pretty canvas painted of their family was exposed counterfeit.  And the picture was more important than the man.  A man who had raised him and taught him right from wrong and loved him unconditionally.  A man who has repented.  Deep regret and sorrow as he turns and looks back…at the shadows and lurking lions of temptation waiting to pounce.

Rocky is his name.  A humble looking chap probably in his sixties with the warmest smile in the room.  He hugged his boy…and his grandson.   Then his daughter-in-law with a swollen belly of new life and blessings to be.  

Rocky was a top executive who had embezzled a lot of money from a monster corporation.  I met him and his wife.  He reminded me of my sweet granddaddy who was the kindest and jovial of men.  

He has three grown boys who have been disgraced by him and the stigma brought upon the family name.  And so they don’t come to see him.  And Rick says he talks about these boys as if they are the light of the moon and is so proud of them…and so sorry for what he’s done.  Rocky got greedy and disillusioned and had a job that made it easy…and he fell.  Hard.

It doesn’t happen with a single choice.  We don’t walk into a life of destruction with eyes wide open and plans to crush.  It’s slow.  And seductive.  Each barrier of truth broken down by small seeds of corrupted desire and twisted hope until the lines seem fuzzy...and the heart is numb.

How many times have we walked a road with a smile on our face and a skip in our step knowing all the while that something…something isn’t right?  And sometimes it’s on the grandiose scale of measurable filth like dollars.  And then sometimes it’s the black hole of bitterness sucking every ounce of joy right out.  

And what of the face of a prisoner?  High walls of razor wire and steel lock down the physical being that souls are temporarily housed in.  And does that change the heart of a man?  And what about those that can’t forgive?  The broken hearted that build protective barriers higher after every hurt…every loss…every disappointment barricading themselves in their self made fortress…keeping out the only true healing heart medicine.  Grace.   

The walls don’t heal….

And so Rocky serves out his 5 year sentence.  But not drowning in the sorrows of his wayward past or even his current state of affairs.  He fixes his eyes on the true Redeemer.  The only Hope we really have.  And lays down his own hopes and dreams and plans of what his life could have been and even what’s to come…and surrenders.  And his son…his joy…walks in.  And our hearts melt and the only real response for such a time as this is praise.  Praise His sweet Name!  For He makes all things new.

And the WALLS came tumbling down…


***On another note***
Jason aka "Gypsy" who I wrote about in my last blog post A Twisted Rose, has just arrived at a halfway house in Austin, TX.  I'm not sure of all his needs right now because he is still getting set up with an email and such.  But I know he needs a job.  He's into fitness and Rick said he'd be good in sales.  I'm sure he's open to any opportunity.  Please email me at rachpayne@verizon.net or call me if you have any contacts for him or know of anyone who can help. And thank you to all who already have stepped up and offered!  I feel the Lord calling us into a ministry that I never would have entered in on my own...but there is something sweet and exciting and wonderful to be a part of helping these people.  Only can explain it by Grace.  Won't you be apart? 

A Twisted Rose

"Every flood of trouble remakes the landscape of your soul - making you better or bitter." -Ann Voskamp

"Romance is the deepest thing in life.  It is deeper even than reality." -G.K. Chesterton

He offered her a rose.  It was his son.  Bringing the white tissue twisted gift resembling God’s thorny jewel of the earth.  Beautiful and delicate.  Carefully crafted.  But she wouldn’t take it.  She doesn’t like attention.  She doesn’t trust strangers.  And gifts do not entice my wary little girl.

 His name is “Gypsy”.  At least that’s what Rick calls him.  He’s Romanian with a big smile and a long banded ponytail.  He’s been in for 1o years and will finally walk free in a couple of weeks.  His little girl was our daughter’s age when he was taken away.  He has four children now teenagers and young adults.  His 21 year old son visiting had grown up seeing his father inside the walls of an institution.  

A first time offender slapped with a harsh sentence.    Little children left without their father.  Father’s missing out on the lives of their children.  Families broken and destroyed.  Same story over and over again.  

 

We sat in the courtyard and they threw a football to our boys.  Laughing and running and teaching them how to position their arms.  A beautiful picture of humanity.  A beautiful picture of Grace.  

Gypsy’s been Rick’s “personal trainer” for the last few months.  He’s done a wonderful job, I must say.  Rick’s lost quite a bit of weight working out most of the day.  His skin glows bronze from the hot sun on those dusty plains blazing red.  And he was telling me the little bit that Gypsy had shared with him about his life.  Never stops hurting to hear the story of brokenness and injustice.  

I sat musing .  The whole scene seemed surreal.  Joy and sadness intermingled in the hope of what is to come.  The sweet father and son, now young man, sitting together and bonding and engaging with my kids in such a kind and thoughtful way.  Wondering what it must be like to know that you will be walking into a new world with nothing and a family that has fallen apart and children who hardly know you and starting all over with a felony attached to your name and the baggage from being institutionalized and 10 years of life and youth now gone.  And yet the promises of freedom within reach.  A new life…a new hope…a new dawn.  

And who will give this man mercy?  What kind of a chance does he really have in picking up the pieces and getting a good job and making a decent living and reconnecting with his family?  And living for 10 years in a hostile environment where it is not safe to be vulnerable and you have to shut down the parts of your heart that feel compassion and longing and desire just to survive…how do you find a new safe place…where not only you are free, but so is your heart?

I loved watching my husband interact with him.  I could tell he cares about him.  He can’t help but care.  His tender heart has definitely been beaten down and calloused.  But Grace has been reshaping those bent places and turning beauty out and I know God is using him to touch the lives of those wrecked and hardened men.  Even when he can’t see it…even when it rubs raw…

Gypsy didn’t give up on Arista.  He kept wooing her and making roses for her and telling her how beautiful she was.  Five hours of patient persistence, always from a distance, and she finally gave him a smile and a “thank you”.  A rare offering from this guarded little lady.  He had won her over.

The last few months have been daunting.  Mountains of hard messy life piling high and raging storms obscuring the way.  And I'm finally understanding that The Way is not a path thru it.  It is a Person.  And although I may not see where I’m going and what lies ahead, He knows.  He authors the way.

Despair held me hostage because I was looking for a way out.  Fear was paralyzing me because I was looking directly at it.  But Grace has picked me up and is carrying me through because I finally said, yes.  “Your will be done. “

There is nothing like the love of Jesus.  NOTHING.  And maybe sometimes God lets us sink into deep grief hopeless nights to see how black it is without Him.  Feasting on sorrows never felt so empty.  Earthly comforts turn to dust.  And all you’re left with is a broken bleeding spirit.  And then Grace blasts in and the reality of His love and what it is fills that holy empty space and it is absolutely extraordinary.  Beyond description.  Outside of words.  Renewing and reviving and healing and redeeming.  

Pain pours the illusion of control right out of the heart so Grace can enter in and save us from ourselves.  

He is faithful…He is forgiving…He is merciful.   He pursues and romances.  Patiently waiting for His beloved's heart.  To give all that He has...all that He is...and fiercely loving us right where we are.  “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” –Romans 8:38-39