Lisa went away for the weekend, and I ended up in jail.  It’s been a long, long time since I’ve visited anyone in prison (my vicarage year!), so I was apprehensive.  I didn’t know the person.  I visited them at the request of his significant other.

I sat in one of those rooms where you sit behind glass stations with a phone in front of you.  The guy picked me out right away, and began ranting and raving about how angry and frustrated he was.  I could barely hear him through the phone I was using.  I didn’t get to say much; just listened.  He had been in for 90 days so far.  I’d be pretty angry and frustrated, too, I guess.

Anyway, after about 45 minutes, I said I’d talk with him again when he was out.  What I’ll say, I have no idea.  I was there only because I could hear the voice of Jesus in my head, “…when I was in prison, you visited me…”  Did I make a difference?  I doubt it.  But who knows?