New Life Prison Ministry

    Lillian and I got involved at New Life Prison Ministry in the first year of our marriage, when it was still called: "New Life Film Ministry" (circa 1984).  I still find myself slipping up sometimes and calling it that. In those early years (and still now I hope) we were hungry to be useful to God and share His message with others but we knew we needed to find others who could teach us about how to serve Him. We met people like that at New Life. Through their example, they taught us about simplicity in ministry, about generosity and grace, and about plugging on, even when things get tough.  We learned too about faith and being dependant on God not just for daily guidance but also for His provision for each and every one of our needs.  We were also impressed by the committment to excellence, coming to understand that God is worthy of the best we can offer. Those are lessons we need to be reminded of on a daily basis even now, but they were learned in those early years.
     New Life Prison Ministry had a very humble beginning and has grown because of its commitment to prayer. Its influence is now felt in institutions across Canada through the presence of its Bible correspondence courses.  At a recent board meeting we came to understand that there are over 500 active Bible students across Canada completing almost 1,000 studies a month!  God has done and is doing a great work, bringing life and hope to very dark corners of our country- its prisons. You can watch a short video of the story of New Life's history and growth on the Ministry's website here: www.nlpm.com  (under construction but full of helpful info)
    New Life continues to evolve, as it must, to reflect the changing realities in Canadian prisons and society.  In 1325 AD, when writing The Cantebury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer borrowed an even more ancient phrase and included it in The Clerk's Tale.  It goes like this: "Time and tide wait for no man".  How true this is.  At New Life we are feeling it this month as our long time directors step down from their leadership responsibilities and we embark on uncharted waters, with long-time prison chaplain Rosemary Redshaw as our new Adminstrative Director.

  Please pray: a) that NLPM will continue to honour God as we serve Him
                      b) for guidance in future decisions
                      c) for God's continued provison for all the needs of the ministry- new projects require new funds, new staff and new volunteers. 
                      d) for fruitfulness as Bible studies go into the prisons and as our students are released from prison to start a new life as Christ-followers.  

Sometimes it Doesn't Take Much

   The title of this post is both an encouragement and a challenge to us. A little boy with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish Matthew14:13-21, a elderly widow with two small coins Mark12:41-44 or an impoverished mother with a tiny bit of oil and flour 1Kings12:7-16

It doesn't take much for God to use us and accomplish his plan. 
  

   I thought about this after spending a couple of hours spread over two days with a young man who had been abandoned by his parents to survive in the streets as an adolescent. He reluctantly agreed to spend some time with me after I offered to help him move forward in his life by getting some financial assistance from the government to get off the street. He was ready for failure. He expected rejection. His problem is his consuming anger. Lets face it- you or I might be too if we had been kicked out of the house as teenagers. That anger shows up in negativism and impatience, with violent language and a hatred of authority. He can't move forward because he loses his temper and fights with anyone who has the power of decision in his life. He protects himself from disappointment by sabotaging the process, pushing away those who would help him.  Anticipating closed doors and failure- that is exactly what he gets, and the cycle continues feeding itself.
   

   We met the first day and I began to doubt the wisdom of my offer to help him.  He was in a foul mood as I picked him up at the shelter, verbally abusing staff and other residents. As we started the process I silently prayed we would meet patient, understanding bureaucrats and that phones would be answered by real people and not machines. God answered. We did and they were. We made small steps of progress and I continued to encourage him to stick at it, to stop cursing and swearing and to try and treat the people we met with some respect. 

   The next morning we went met again and had to go to various offices to prove his eligibility for assistance. During one of these interviews he was asked to identify his next of kin. He gave them my name and number then asked if that would be okay. I was both saddened and humbled by that.  It says a lot about his life that there is no one else that he can identify as "family." That is the sad part. The humbling part is that in such a short time, and by giving so little, I had become "next of kin."  It doesn't take much, does it? As we walked away from each other thay day, he yelled back at me (with no cursing I might add) over his shoulder- "Thanks a lot, I really mean that." I am not sure when our paths will cross again but maybe, just maybe, a frail bridge of grace has been built. 
   

    We are surrounded by people who have deeply sad and lonely lives. Every once in a while, they explode onto our newspapers in violent ways and we wonder: "Where did that come from?" There are many in our communities that are very angry, who feel alienated and don't experience much human warmth. People are starving for kindness. They feel there is no one they can trust. You and I, as we are led by the Spirit, can break through their dark reality with simple acts that show we care; proving that someone knows they are there. Are we known for our generosity of spirit?   

   Sometimes it doesn't take much to communicate God's love, but when we do, be ready for God to work and doors to open for His grace.  What have you got to offer to Jesus that he can take and multiply in the life of others? Who is there around you that could use a smile, some eye contact, a heart-felt and sincere: "No, really, how are you doing?"

Aldonza

“The world’s a dung heap and we are maggots that crawl on it!”

                                                                                Aldonza in “The Man of La Mancha”

   Quite the worldview isn’t it?  For those of us who have seen the play, “The Man of la Mancha”, we recognize this quote coming from a hardened, abused servant girl. Don Quijote sees beyond her reality to who she is and potentially could be: the noble lady, “Dulcinea”.  I have recently had dealings with a young woman whose life and attitudes remind me of Aldonza in her cynicism and resignation.  

   I met “Sam” when she was leaving a detention centre after visiting her incarcerated boyfriend.  It was cold and raining that day and she looked like a little lost puppy. “Sam” is in her mid-20’s and although still attractive, shows the undeniable signs of the ravages of drug use on her face and in the way she carries herself.  When I first saw her she was having trouble negotiating the various locked doors that a visitor to a detention centre must face and her frustration was causing her to show anger to the officer sitting behind darkened glass, who delayed in pushing the buttons that released the door.  I whispered to her that it was best to wait until she heard the click of an unlocked door instead of yelling at him impatiently. She listened and calmed.

    She told me it was her first time visiting but that she had been a “resident” of the detention centre, released earlier that week. The early winter rain was beating down pretty hard when we got out of the jail so “Sam” asked if I could give her a ride to the bus stop.  I threw up a quick prayer, asking God for wisdom, and protection, then told her I would.

    In the car I started asking questions about her life which she answered with simple, naïve innocence that left me with the certainty that this girl was at great risk of harm and exploitation.  She told me about her struggles with an addiction to opiates and trying to make ends meet while on welfare.  She was renting a space in a rooming house, from a landlord that bullied his tenants and had threatened violence to her.  She was constantly under pressure for sexual favours.  She didn’t feel she was worth of any better, after al, what was she? An "addict."  A failure. Her openness as she talked was a call for help.  I gave her some ideas about how to get support for her drug use, and offered to spend some time with her either trying to find a safer place to live or connecting with workers in town that could help her.  I let her know I am a follower of Christ and that the God who created her loves her and wanted to see her safe.  I prayed with her for God’s protection and leading.  I could tell from her eyes that “God-talk” was a foreign language. We exchanged cell phone numbers and talked about meeting the next week.  She seemed so young and at risk of overdose and/or sexual exploitation. She agreed with me but was not willing to go to detox or make any other changes at that time.  As I left her at her “home”, I was not confident I would ever see her again.  An unsolicited show of gratitude through a text message she sent minutes later surprised me and also showed me there was something there.

    It was 9 months before I saw her again.  During that time I would send text messages, reminding her of the supports available if she wanted to change the direction of her life and just checking in to see how she was doing.  With each of those texts I would invite her to our London Dismas group.  Sometimes she would respond back, other times, no.  Then one day recently, I got a response asking me if I could help her leave the city where, if she stayed, she would “either die or go to jail.”  She sounded distressed. That gave impetus to a series of text messages that resulted in an offer of a bus ticket to go home to where her family lives. I wasn’t going to be able to see her for a week but a colleague of mine in London was willing to put her on a bus that day.  I don’t think she expected such an immediate response and asked if it could wait until the end of the month so she could get her next social assistance cheque.  I agreed to get together with her the next time I was in the city and she gave me an address and a time to meet her and her latest “boyfriend.”

    I picked her up at the place she was staying, in the back of a mechanic’s garage. I took her boyfriend to his doctor’s appointment and her for a coffee so we could talk.  She related to me that during the past few months she had been: beaten up, had all her belongings stolen, evicted, homeless, bouncing from man to man and, through it all, injecting opiates into her veins.  Now she knew she needed to get out. In spite of all she has experienced, she still maintained that naïve innocence. It was so very clear to me that although she was scared and didn’t like the lifestyle she was trapped in, she also didn’t believe she deserved anything better or different. Her worldview was stained by a sense of her own worthlessness and just reinforced by the people who had used her. Even though she knew life could be different, she had either lost, or was losing hope that it ever could be different for her. 

   I talked to her about the God who made her, sees her as precious, and loves her so much that he came to earth to die for her. She didn’t buy it.  She asked for proof.  She said: “I can’t see that God, where is he?” I talked about how I knew, from my own experience about Him.  I talked about people I know and am currently involved with whose lives are being radically changed by that God. I shared about how I believe He is working now, in her, and how He is showing He is real by reaching out to her. We spent about an hour together that day and I invited her and her boyfriend to join me that evening for a meal at the Dismas fellowship meeting.  She hummed and hawed and said she would think about it, but it seemed like a “no.”  She expressed nervousness about going to a church, feeling that she wouldn’t fit in.

    That afternoon, just as we were starting the Dismas fellowship, I sent her another text message, reminding her of the meeting and inviting her again.  She said, “yes”, so I went to pick her and her boyfriend up.  Maybe it was the promise of a meal that drew them.  Maybe it was that I had purchased a bus ticket out of town for her at the end of the month that convinced her she wanted to know more about what makes Christians tick. Or, maybe it was the fact that her brother had become a Christian recently and he had told her he was going to pray for her that made her change her mind and take a step of faith to join us that night.  I don’t know, but she came.  In the Dismas group she met others who were struggling with addictions.  She met others who had spent time being homeless, or in jail.  She heard their stories of relapse and recovery.  She heard of God’s grace and desire to rescue and redeem.  It was no longer so easy for her to say: “I don’t see God, where is he?”

     After the meeting, as I was driving them back to the garage, “Sam” talked about her brother and the changes she had seen in his life. She thanked me for inviting her to Dismas. I reminded her again of God’s desire to work in her and to give her a life she can feel good about.  I spoke with her of God’s purpose for her life. I will see “Sam” one more time I expect- when I go and pick her up and take her to the bus station so she can use the ticket. I told her that one-day, I hope to hear from her again, telling me that she is safe, that she is clean, and that she is now seeking the God who loves her so much that He was willing to die for her.  

     This world is messed up- because we are messed up.  As followers of Jesus we need to see past the dung heap with maggots crawling on it that Aldonza saw, and remind people like Sam, that the God who created the universe and made us in His image longs to transform each of us, and through us this “out of order” world.

Patience

2 Peter 3:9  (NIV)The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

1 Cor. 13:4  (NIV)Love is patient, love is kind.

I am convinced that one of the most necessary ingredients for working with men and women recently released from prison, is patience. Patience smoothes over the bumps and cracks, allowing one to see past them to keep the eye on the goal: helping people grow to become like Jesus. 

Patience listens to the persons heart’s desire and doesn’t focus on their behaviour. This can protect the heart from discouragement as people struggle and sometimes fail after facing challenges and past issues that arise often and sometimes without warning.

Patience means not forcing our time-table on anyone but allowing them to grow and change at a pace that is sustainable for them

Patience allows for trust to develop, as the person we are supporting doesn’t feel we have an agenda or that they are a “project” with a timeline.

Patience prepares one for the long haul where recovery is sometimes measured in baby steps over years, not usually quick or easy. (The quick and easy progress often cloaks deeper, well-buried problems that will always eventually surface.)

It means that we don't give up on anyone. There may be needed times of rest when a break is required because the involvement has been so intense, but we don’t “wash our hands” and we don’t “close any doors.”

Patience is the fruit of a Spirit-filled life and flows from love.  When we lack it we need to look inside and not focus on the one we are impatient with.

Patience is elusive for many reasons.  One, is our own selfishness and self-centeredness.  Another is that we live in an age of quick fixes, when we look for immediate results. Unfortunately, real life is seldom like that. We can find patience though when we keep our own condition and moment-by-moment need of God's grace firmly fixed in our mind.

Patience is possible when ego isn't involved- a person’s recovery is about him/her, not a reflection on us and our effectiveness.
     

Patience is possible when we have a clear belief in a Heavenly Father who pursues and never stops extending His arms of love, inviting us to faith in Christ and obedience to His word.  I am so glad He pursued me. We can’t give up on people, because God doesn’t give up on us.

It was one of those days....

      ...when God moves.
        I share this story for no other reason than to remind myself, and whoever reads this, that God is there.
         Lil and I were at a point that we had decided to leave the Aftercare ministry of New Life Prison Ministry http://www.nlpm.com/.  I had applied for a full time position with a community agency because, after two years with New Life, our financial support had not reached a point where we didn't need to depend on a subsidy from the Ministry.  I felt that we were being a burden.  Added to that, the relief position I had been working at with a secular organization in order to supplement what NLPM could give to us, came to an end. We were facing a financial crunch and did not feel comfortable moving forward with NLPM and being a drain on its finances. I was confused and anxious about the next step. I was disappointed in myself too- how after so many years of seeing God's faithfulness in guiding and providing in our lives, was I allowing these circumstances to affect me?
       Leaving the aftercare ministry was not my desire. As I look back over the two years, I can point to God's hand working in the lives of a number of men and women who have come back into the community from prison and are doing well: attending church, working or studying and moving ahead in life. Others are still struggling to overcome huge barriers, like addictions issues or mental illness, and have been experiencing God's unconditional love and committment to them.  Through the two new Dismas Fellowship groups http://www.friendsofdismas.com/about-2/ministry-of-friendship/ in London and Cambridge a number of different Christians have had the opportunity of learning how to wisely care for folks who have experienced prison and all that comes along with it. "Returnees"desperately need the love, discipleship training and affirmation that the church can offer. The prospect of ending my involvement with aftercare was causing me to lose more than a couple of night's sleep. I couldn't figure out what God was saying.  Why had He not brought people forward to give to this work?  Why, after two years were we still needing to look for financial support from New Life Prison Ministry? Was God telling us- "Not you. Not this time." The need for someone (actually a whole team of people), to be involved in being there to support and encourage "returnees" is scandalously obvious.
     I was ready to leave though.  It was the only way of seeing our economic needs met without being a burden to a ministry we love and respect. I had applied for the full time position and had an interview in two days. I met with Gerrit and Susan Blok. They are our friends.  They have been and are our spiritual mentors.  They also give leadership to New Life and needed to know what I was thinking and the way it seemed God was leading.  As I shared my thoughts, they were supportive and understanding.  They, like Lil and I, were sad at the prospect of us leaving New Life Prison Ministry, but as we talked none of us could see a way forward.  We were confused by what God was doing: the needs are so obvious but the resources were not available. Gerrit asked: "What is your fleece?" as we talked about what it would take for me to stay with New Life. I had thought about it and said: "God will need to do something special this week- He will have to have someone call in and offer to support New Life with at least $500 for me to believe He wants us to keep on going.  We prayed, then I left to go into the local jail to visit a couple of men.  I had peace about leaving New Life, but no joy.
    Well, you can see where this is going- that phone call came in within half an hour from someone known to the ministry but not a regular supporter.  He said he had been reading his Bible and felt he needed to contact New Life.  During the phone conversation he asked questions and managed to pry out of Susan details about my time with them earlier that morning. He then assured them that the need would be met.  God had graciously and amazingly responded to the fleece with a message of: "I want the aftercare ministry to keep on going!"  Later that day, I was encouraged by two managers at a community agency to apply for a part-time position that was about to open up.  That part-time position, and the generous support being offered by the individual who phoned, will allow me to continue with NLPM in aftercare.  I cancelled the interview for the full-time position.
     I have shared this story this week with a number of people; "returnees" and others.  As I share with you faithful reader,  I want you to know and be encouraged- God is real. He does listen. He does let us know (sometimes after a period of waiting and silence) what He wants us to do and where He wants us to go.
    Please pray for New Life Prison Ministry. God has had and still does have His eye on it as we seek to share the message of God's love and purpose in Jesus Christ to men and women who have involvement with the criminal justice system. May our actions, attitudes and words help others to know how great God is.

Philippians 4:6,7  (NIV)

 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

     

Dismas in Action

Marty has abused alcohol for his whole adult life.  It has abused him too.   His relationship with it started when he was a young teen but he managed to patch together a career as a mechanic and truck driver.  Eventually his drinking caught up with him and a series of bad decisions resulted in the loss of his driver’s license, large fines and then jail time, a number of times.  He lost everything he had worked for: his family, a home, his business and all his retirement savings.  Marty is a trusting soul but those he trusted bilked him of all his assets and have now pretty much abandoned him.  In his 60’s now, he feels like a failure; betrayed and foolish.  I got to know him after his most recent release from jail, when he called me and asked for support in finding somewhere to live.  He was in a homeless shelter but proud of the fact that he had completed a few months of sobriety while incarcerated.   A year later he is still sober a year and, thanks be to God, in his own apartment.  He has a lot to feel good about.  When he lives in the present and focuses on what he has now he is fun to be around. Marty started attending a church and knows that God can give him the strength to go on. 

But Marty struggles with depression. His life-long relationship with alcohol has left him full of regrets and the feeling of loss plagues him.  It takes away his joy.  Sometimes he wonders why he even bothers trying and thinks about giving up.  At one of our recent Dismas Fellowship meetings, Marty was very much in that dark place.

In addition to joining a local church, he also joined the local Dismas group and his honesty and sense of humour make him an important part of our community.   A Dismas fellowship is a Christ-centred support group for ex-prisoners.  At every Dismas get-together we always take time to talk about life and God’s place in it. It usually starts with a reflection; prepared by one of the group to share with the rest.  Every reflection ends with a question that is meant to stimulate thought and allow people to either share how the theme relates to them or, if they don’t feel comfortable sharing, to pass.  The reflection question that night had centred on what God was doing and wants to do in our lives.  Marty was in a negative space when he arrived and when it was his turn to talk, he shared about his current struggles; his anger towards God and how he feels everything and everyone has turned against him.  He expressed confusion about God’s silence in unanswered prayers. He was saying that he wonders if God really loves him and is believing that everyone would be better off if he was dead.  Marty’s mind was firmly anchored in the past and was being flooded by regret and guilt, a place it usually camps out when he takes his eyes off Jesus and all the good that is in his life. That is why it is so important that he surround himself with a loving supportive community.  That night the Dismas community responded and gathered around him to pray with him and reassure him. That night, and since then, the group became the hands and feet of a loving God for Marty. The future is uncertain for him because of some big challenges ahead but the good thing is he won’t face it alone- after all; he belongs to a  Dismas Fellowship!

Pray for Marty.  Pray that he live in the moment and learn to forgive himself and others who have hurt him in the past.  Pray too for the Dismas groups in London and Cambridge and the volunteers that have pitched in to help.  Pray that God will use the groups to encourage and build up ex-prisoners as they seek to know and serve Him. Thanks for taking the time to read this and to pray. 

                The light still shines in the darkness

                and the darkness has never put it out.

    Yesterday I received a call from a medical center asking me to get a message to a fellow that I had referred to them, a fellow from the community that has addictions and mental health issues. He doesn't have a phone and has sort of dropped off the face of the earth. His Dr. has sent three letters advising him of an important appointment but he hasn't responded and has missed each appointment. As I know where he lives, I was asked to deliver the message personally. When I got there one of his neighbours opened the main entrance into the house for me and I went to his room and knocked on his door. At that point I heard a large dog go ballistic and a voice from inside demanding to know who I was. I replied: "My name is Tim and I am a support worker with a message from your doctor" and heard the response: "Open the door". The dog was still barking furiously so I prayed a little prayer and opened the door.  Just as I did, the dog charged through the small kitchen towards me, thankfully sliding to a stop, still furious and still barking, just short of my legs. In the small kitchen were seated two men who I have met before but was surprised to see there.  Both are notorious to the police and in the community for their use and trafficking of drugs, as well as other criminal activities. Both of them know me because I have been working in the lives of some of their "customers." We have bumped heads before. They have been partially responsible for the overdose deaths of a couple of my clients while I was with CMHA as well as the eviction and homelessness of at least one other. A number of others that I am still involved with are no longer their clients thanks to God working in their lives. They know we are on opposite sides. They are rough characters, deeply trapped in destructive lifestyles and showing no obvious interest in freedom at this point. Neither of them tried to restrain the dog as they glared at me from their chairs. My guess is that they wanted to see what would happen. I passed the message over to them with no confidence it will ever get to the man it was intended for, the man whose small apartment has been taken over by these two. I never saw him but did hear him speak from the back room. As I left I felt somewhat hopeless and fearful for the fellow whose doctor has gone out of his way to try and help. He has chosen his “friends” poorly.

    Today I am encouraged to pray for that man, and his two “friends” after reading John 1:5 The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.  With a truth like that to stand on, how can we stop hoping? This world can be a very dark place- we all know it. Where God is ignored or rejected there is darkness. We can all be touched by it and stained by it. What a tremendous foundation to build on when we remember that we who belong to Jesus share in His light and carry it with us wherever we go and that no matter how black things look, the darkness can never, ever extinguish the light.