This weekend I traveled to Oklahoma City and participated in the Bill Glass Behind the Walls prison ministry. Satanic attack began before I even arrived at the airport when Delta sent me an e-mail stating that my plane was going to be two hours late, meaning I would miss my connection in Atlanta, meaning I would arrive late in Oklahoma City, meaning my driver would have to change intricate plans that had been setup for weeks and involved picking up dozens of platform speakers.
Delta rescheduled me and after many long boring hours of waiting in airports and flying on different planes I finally arrived in Oklahoma City and of course after waiting for my luggage for another hour was informed that it was lost.
Things got better when I got to the host hotel and found some good friends and we attended the Bill Glass spiritual enrichment service together and listened to several highly energized and motivated speakers and heard some good Gospel music. Later I finally headed off to bed. I felt much better and I’d even heard from the airlines that they’d located my luggage; and would deliver it to the hotel at midnight.
Things were looking up, but it didn’t last. My room was located right in front of a metal gate that everyone had to pass through in order to get to their rooms. It loudly clanged whenever anyone walked through it. People were loudly talking, laughing, and clanging that stupid gate throughout the night and in spite of being very tired I didn’t get so much as one hour’s sleep.
Shortly before daylight we left for our first prison of the day. After an hour’s drive we saw the familiar foreboding looking gray building with doubled razor wire fences. We finally got through security and entered the prison. It was a cold, gray, windy day and hardly any prisoners ventured out into the tiny wet mud hole that they called a prison yard to hear our program; (I couldn’t say that I blamed them). It was located between two buildings and was like a wind tunnel carrying cold air through it that cut to my old bones.
After giving my testimony to perhaps a paltry forty inmates I talked to one prisoner who was doing life without the possibility of parole. He looked tough and had gang tats, (tattoos), all over his body. He said he’d accepted Christ as his Savior several years ago but had fallen away when he was transferred to this particular prison. He said he was totally surrounded by evil there and that the gangs, (Bloods, Crips, Mexican Mafia, and Aryan Brotherhood), had all declared war on each other and everyone was fair game; it was all he could do to stay alive on a day to day basis.
He told me he wanted to be a Christian but he couldn’t quit his gang without serious repercussions, like getting a homemade knife stuck in his neck. He looked at me with pleading eyes and asked me what to do.
Hmmm . . . I had no idea what to tell him, so I did the next best thing; I gave him a knowing look and asked, “What do you think you need to do?”
He responded, “I know what I need to do.”
I boldly said, “Well then quit screwing around and do it!”
He looked a little taken aback at my stern response and then smiled as he shook his head and softly responded, “It’s hard man.”
“God will be with you my friend. He’ll strengthen you. Ain’t nothin too hard for Him”
He said, “Yo, good point. Okay man I’m gonna give it a try. Thanks, you’ve put me on a righteous path man – I love you bro!” And with that he bumped fists with me and walked off.
Before you ask I have no idea what he is going to do to resolve his dangerous situation, but I’m praying for God to give him wisdom and ask that you do likewise.
We left for our next prison and I was given a box lunch that was . . . well I won’t go there. Suffice it to say I didn’t eat much that day.
We went to another prison that afternoon and the sun had warmed things up substantially and several hundred inmates attended. After speaking, a tough looking guy came over and we started talking. I asked him if he were to die did he think he would go to heaven. He told me he believed in God and assumed he would make it there. I told him believing in God won’t get him there; satan and every demon in hell believes in God and Jesus, and they ain’t gonna make it to heaven. I asked if he had confessed his sins, asked for forgiveness, and repented (or turned away) from his sins.
He looked at me with a lost hopeless expression and said, “I can’t repent in this place. It is full of evil and I’m owned by a liquid that I put in my arms every day”. He went on to tell me that he and three of his buddies in his pod were shooting up 3-4 ounces of meth a week right there in their prison cells and the meth owned his soul.
This guy was doing life without the possibility of parole, was severely addicted to meth while in prison, and had lost all hope.
I put on my most optimistic cheerful face and though I must admit I was having a hard time envisioning how God would pull it off, I told him that God could deliver him and I would pray for him.
I was feeling very bummed out. My foul mood was not helped by the fact that ever since I’d left home every day all day long and far into the night, each time I would check my e-mail people from home and work were raising hell about something or other.
I thought, “Damn! People are dying in here and these folks in their comfortable environment want to fuss and fight and snivel and whine about the smallest issues. You’d think we’re facing the Cuban missile crisis in Greenville Florida”.
I fought my way through it all day and exhausted finally went to bed. As soon as I did I discovered that the heat wasn’t working in my room and it was shivering cold in there. I called the front desk and was told that the maintenance man would not be in until 8 a.m. the next morning. I said, “Well move me to another room”. He told me that he was sorry but the hotel was completely booked out and there were no more available rooms.
Gr-r-r-r…
I stripped the covers off the extra bed in my room and covered up with everything in that room and was still freezing. Finally I just got up and took a hot shower and went to the warm lobby where I worked on my computer. As I sat down to my e-mail, I discovered that I’d received hate mail from several people going back to an entry about “giving to the church” that I’d posted almost a week ago! You don’t even want to know what I told them – Jesus was not proud of me at that moment and neither am I right now!
More satanic attack!
The final day we went to two more prisons, but these were women’s units. There was more talk of drugs, violence, perversion, and despair behind those walls, but God moved mightily and many of those women inmates responded to our program and turned to God anyway.
Finally the Bill Glass Weekend of Champions was over. After an exhausting two days of pouring my heart out offering my testimony and dealing with all of the stupid side issues, we finally completed our last program.
I was very tired and began walking out towards the security area, I heard someone calling me and I turned to see a nice little lady who was a volunteer. She told me that one of the inmates had just told her that my testimony was so very powerful and meant so much to her that she wanted to accept Jesus as her Savior too.
She looked at me and said, “I just felt that you need to hear something like that every now and then”.
I looked down at that tiny little angel and kissed her on the top of the head and smiled and told her that indeed I did “need to hear something like that now and then”. I gave her a big hug as a few tears began working their way down my cheeks.
We all get tired, frustrated, discouraged, and beaten down at times. If you get the chance to tell someone who is down something positive today then please do so. You’ll be glad you did! You might even offer them this verse:
John 16:33
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”