October 18, 2013
Dear Friends,
I’ve been meeting with Chris at East Mesa Reentry Facility (EMRF) for several months now. Chris is 23, and his most recent arrest was this past January. When he was put in jail this time, he began reading the Bible for the first time. Every time we would meet, he would bring new questions about what he was reading. About two months ago, Chris was charged with more crimes, this time in Los Angeles County. Nothing changed right away, primarily because there was a typo in the system regarding the amount of his bail. When the typo was corrected, however, San Diego County officials had to move Chris to another, more secure facility. I visited him once downtown at the Central Jail, and then three times at the mysteriously named “Facility 8”.
Two weeks ago, at Facility 8, he told me of a Bible study he attended. The topic was The Good Samaritan, and Chris told me that, for the first time, he had begun to see himself as someone to give help, rather than someone to be helped. This was a major breakthrough for him. The unknowns of facing new charges in another county had been weighing on Chris quite heavily. He was scheduled to be released from San Diego’s custody last Friday (October 22), but he was “on hold”, waiting for LA to pick him up. But he was still at Facility 8 when I visited him this past Saturday, even though the county had prepped him for release the day before and left him in a holding cell for most of the day.
This past Tuesday, as I leaving EMRF after meeting with another inmate, a bus with “Sheriff Los Angeles County” on its side was pulling out from Donovan State Prison, which is just down the road. I thought, “O my goodness—Chris is on that bus!” But when I got home, the Sheriff’s web site said he was back downtown at the Central Jail. When I checked later that night, he was no longer in San Diego custody. My first reaction was of gladness—that this next phase of Chris’s life was finally underway. And then I felt a sense of loss, because I didn’t know when I would see Chris again. Chris will eventually return to San Diego for
substance abuse treatment and supervision, and I can write to him (or even visit
him) in the LA jail, but we don’t know if that will be two weeks, two months, or
two years.
Last Thursday, I was able to meet one-on-one with Chris at the Miramar Brig. This Chris is 31, and has yet to be court-martialed. The best deal he’s been offered so far is five years, which doesn’t make him very happy. Chris has been coming to Bible study on Thursday nights since he came to the brig—about a month now. He always has questions after the study, so I arranged to meet individually with him. Chris never knew his father, and his mother died when he was 18, just before he joined the Army. In the hour we had together, Chris started with having lots of questions about why God might do this or why God hasn’t done that. By the end of the hour, he seemed to understand what God had done for him in Christ and what that meant for him and his life. That he did understand was more or less confirmed by his comments in our regular Thursday night Bible study in Galatians.
Most Tuesdays, I meet with yet another Chris. This Chris is 34, and six months into five years of parole after four years in a California State prison. Chris and I are also working our way through Galatians, but very slowly. Chris comes from a close family, and all of them are Christians. The only job Chris has been able to find is spinning a sign for Cricket Wireless (a job somewhat unique to Southern California). Chris knows that God loves him—and can even make a list of very bold things that God thinks of him. But not finding a good job—and being prevented from going to school because of his felony—makes Chris thinks that no one beyond God, his family, and a few people at church cares at all about him. Unlike God, society will not cast our sins from us as far as the East is from the
West.
It is hard to believe that 2013 is nearing its end. Please prayerfully consider a donation to this ministry—either an end-of-the-year donation, or a regular contribution for 2014. Your faithfulness in prayer and giving is a big encouragement to me, and keeps me available to meet with men like Chris (and Chris, and Chris, too).
Sincerely in Christ,
Ben Conarroe
Dear Friends,
I’ve been meeting with Chris at East Mesa Reentry Facility (EMRF) for several months now. Chris is 23, and his most recent arrest was this past January. When he was put in jail this time, he began reading the Bible for the first time. Every time we would meet, he would bring new questions about what he was reading. About two months ago, Chris was charged with more crimes, this time in Los Angeles County. Nothing changed right away, primarily because there was a typo in the system regarding the amount of his bail. When the typo was corrected, however, San Diego County officials had to move Chris to another, more secure facility. I visited him once downtown at the Central Jail, and then three times at the mysteriously named “Facility 8”.
Two weeks ago, at Facility 8, he told me of a Bible study he attended. The topic was The Good Samaritan, and Chris told me that, for the first time, he had begun to see himself as someone to give help, rather than someone to be helped. This was a major breakthrough for him. The unknowns of facing new charges in another county had been weighing on Chris quite heavily. He was scheduled to be released from San Diego’s custody last Friday (October 22), but he was “on hold”, waiting for LA to pick him up. But he was still at Facility 8 when I visited him this past Saturday, even though the county had prepped him for release the day before and left him in a holding cell for most of the day.
This past Tuesday, as I leaving EMRF after meeting with another inmate, a bus with “Sheriff Los Angeles County” on its side was pulling out from Donovan State Prison, which is just down the road. I thought, “O my goodness—Chris is on that bus!” But when I got home, the Sheriff’s web site said he was back downtown at the Central Jail. When I checked later that night, he was no longer in San Diego custody. My first reaction was of gladness—that this next phase of Chris’s life was finally underway. And then I felt a sense of loss, because I didn’t know when I would see Chris again. Chris will eventually return to San Diego for
substance abuse treatment and supervision, and I can write to him (or even visit
him) in the LA jail, but we don’t know if that will be two weeks, two months, or
two years.
Last Thursday, I was able to meet one-on-one with Chris at the Miramar Brig. This Chris is 31, and has yet to be court-martialed. The best deal he’s been offered so far is five years, which doesn’t make him very happy. Chris has been coming to Bible study on Thursday nights since he came to the brig—about a month now. He always has questions after the study, so I arranged to meet individually with him. Chris never knew his father, and his mother died when he was 18, just before he joined the Army. In the hour we had together, Chris started with having lots of questions about why God might do this or why God hasn’t done that. By the end of the hour, he seemed to understand what God had done for him in Christ and what that meant for him and his life. That he did understand was more or less confirmed by his comments in our regular Thursday night Bible study in Galatians.
Most Tuesdays, I meet with yet another Chris. This Chris is 34, and six months into five years of parole after four years in a California State prison. Chris and I are also working our way through Galatians, but very slowly. Chris comes from a close family, and all of them are Christians. The only job Chris has been able to find is spinning a sign for Cricket Wireless (a job somewhat unique to Southern California). Chris knows that God loves him—and can even make a list of very bold things that God thinks of him. But not finding a good job—and being prevented from going to school because of his felony—makes Chris thinks that no one beyond God, his family, and a few people at church cares at all about him. Unlike God, society will not cast our sins from us as far as the East is from the
West.
It is hard to believe that 2013 is nearing its end. Please prayerfully consider a donation to this ministry—either an end-of-the-year donation, or a regular contribution for 2014. Your faithfulness in prayer and giving is a big encouragement to me, and keeps me available to meet with men like Chris (and Chris, and Chris, too).
Sincerely in Christ,
Ben Conarroe
