CHRISTMAS HOPE - PART 3

CHRISTMAS HOPE – PART 3

Even with the bright moon and the uber-zillion candle power yard lights blazing down on me, the stars were equally bright and crisp.  The sky was full of them.  Everywhere I looked, they were endless – like the descendants of Abraham.  Every turn I took on the track, I could see a different section of the sky; unique with its ow arrangements of stars and distant planets.

In the Eastern sky there was a thin layer of a single cloud reaching closer to the camp.  The cloud was ultra thin – even translucent, as it absorbed the light of the moon.  It was like a mist or a fog rising from the swamp, except it was high in the stratosphere.  The leading edge, approaching the camp, extended forward in wisps that appeared like fingers reaching ahead into the night sky.  Could they be from the very hand of God reaching out to his people?  Perhaps a sign showing us that He is here with us?  Does God speak to us in a cloud formation?  He has done it in the past, to lead His people and speak to them. 

I felt overwhelmed by the whole experience.  Did He do this all for me because I was having a bad night?  Did anyone else see what I was seeing?  I’m sure I wasn’t the only person in the world having a difficult time on Christmas Eve.

What if this was the same sky the shepherds saw when the angels appeared to them?  If I was overwhelmed by a cloud that appeared as the Hand of God, how must they have felt when messengers from Heavens Army appeared in front of them and SPOKE to them?  That scene may have caused me to fall on my face in absolute fear!  Why would the God who created the world and designed each one of us in His image care enough to reach out to us?  Certainly He doesn’t NEED us to do His work.  But it seems He “desires” us, and if the God who created us also desires us, then He must have placed a desire for HIM within us, as well.

Therefore, as crazy as it may seem, I will accept the idea that my creator, my God knew that I needed to be comforted that night by knowing that He was with me in my sorrow and pain.  He gave me a sign through His creation, His Word, to remind me that He has His hand on my life, just as he does for my family.

I continued my stroll, basking in the moonlit sky, talking with My God.  My anger and frustration were distant now and my heart felt lighter as He lifted my burdens from me.  I could see more clearly that this night was not about me.  It was about God sending His Son to show us the Way to God.  I needed to see God in His revealed creation.

The night air was so still that sounds carried easily.  Somewhere in the dark a dog was barking.  Perhaps he was outside the house with the Christmas tree in the window.  I can’t say for sure.  It was a comfort to hear him bark, none-the-less.  Then the sound of a motorcycle starting and warming up broke the stillness.  It seemed a sound so out of place on Christmas Eve.  I was waiting to hear the coyote, whom I had heard other nights from the depths of Buzzard Gulch.

Over the loud speaker, the announcement came to tell us the “never-ending track” was closed for the night.  So my night watching God in His creation’s glory was over -- at least for now!  There will be many more, but none like tonight, as this was MY silent night.

My steps were lighter and my spirit was lifted as I walked back to Hog Lodge.  I wished people a Merry Christmas as I passed them in the hall.  A few of them felt obligated to tell me that Christmas was not until tomorrow.  I would not let them deter my mission of sharing Christmas cheer.  Some guys in prison, take joy in being very literal and technical and insist on being “right” all the time.  I was two cubicles away from my “crib”, passing along my Christmas greetings when I noticed Crankshaft hanging out with his friend, who is a natural born Jew.  I wished them both a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah!   Crankshaft responded to my greeting with a very sarcastic statement about Christmas being a pagan celebration.  It was the last thing I needed to hear and I let him know it!  I reminded him of our fallen nature and how God, yes GOD, has redeemed us into a new creation.  We celebrate the birth of Christ, which is not built on pagan rituals or beliefs.   We do have a responsibility to understand those things that are rooted in pagan origins and guard ourselves from them.  The fact is that God sent His Son, Jesus, to become fully human to save our wretched selves from the pagan practices and sin.  Without Christmas and Easter, this salvation would not exist.  We celebrate that which is good – much as God has redeemed us and uses that which was unholy and makes it holy for His purposes.  Apparently, I was pretty “intense” in my delivery because Crankshaft became very quiet and later came to my “crib” to apologize.  I accepted his apology and offered my own for my outburst.

Christmas Day in prison is a difficult day for everyone.  It is a day where you are reminded of everything you have lost by going to prison.  To help cope with our losses, we look for distractions to occupy our minds.

I went to breakfast because I heard they would be serving Egg Nog.  They came through with their promise!!  The rest of the meal was standard Bran Flakes and cake. 

Polish Mike sat down next to me and proceeded to hand me a “gift”  as he wished me a Merry Christmas.  It was a packaged brownie from the Prison Gift Shop (commissary), along with a note that read, “Merry Christmas, Father”.   Immediately I felt bad for not having something to offer him in return.  His note was meant to be funny and I took it that way.  But I was also very touched that he thought about me with that gift.  I need to give you some background context before you can see the humor in his note…

Polish Mike is a 24 year old and he is big, in stature.  He is slightly taller than I am and stocky.  He is from the Chicago area and is … Polish!   He has a distinctive accent in his gentle voice.  When he first arrived, he spent much of his time sleeping.  I encouraged him to come outside, but he didn’t have any tennis shoes and didn’t like wearing the prison-issued boots.  So I gave him a pair of my old medical shoes.  They helped a little.  I stopped by his crib a few times to see how he was doing, but we didn’t really develop a friendship.  It was more of an occasional acquaintance.

Then there is an officer who works in the kitchen, whose name is Mr Long.  He is nicer than most of the officers, but is very quirky in a humorous sort of way.  One of his odd quirks is walking along the serving line of his waiting “customers” and “Thanking them for coming!!!!”  This, of course, is done in sarcasm, but is still a nice gesture.  Most guys ignore him or acknowledge him with an uncomfortable smile.  As for me, I respond with equal sarcasm and say, “Thank YOU for inviting us!”  (I choose to fight crazy with crazy!)

Now you know the players, so let me put the story together.  Gee whillickers, this is like a flashback in a movie! 

Last month, it so happened that Polish Mike was in the meal line with me.  As we stepped into the Dirty Spoon Diner, Mr. Long was walking the line, thanking the “customers”.  He approached me and said, “Thanks for coming and bringing your son!!!”  This was an awkward moment that made us all laugh.  There is a little resemblance that can be made in our similar statures.  So from that moment on, we have had fun calling each other with our new titles.  Others, too, have joined in on the game.  Besides the comedy relief this brings, it also forces me to see the reality of age differences in here.  Perhaps I should bear more responsibility with my “advanced years” to help those who are younger.  This is an overwhelming thought!!!  GOOD GRIEF!

To be continued….

(I know, I know…this is getting a little ridiculous…one more Part…I swear, that will be the last!!!!!)

McFreedom