Six years ago when I was expecting our eldest boy, I heard God challenge me through reading Hebrews 13:3, to begin writing to those in prison.

I’ve inherited my Dad’s love of sending cards and letters, so I expected I would enjoy this chance to impact others. The phrase I got in my head when I prayed was ‘Someone cares’. I looked that up on the Internet and discovered an old-fashioned prison work in the USA by that same title. God’s clever like that.

I wrote to Don and Yvonne, it’s founders, and asked if I could join their team. I’ve been writing to various prisoners ever since. Often my letters are the only correspondence that the inmates receive from the ‘outside’. Some have no family or have been deserted by them. My letters carry simple words of affirmation, interest and acceptance. Nothing fancy. I currently have amongst others a Messianic Jew, a Sioux Indian and a single mother of three ‘on my books.’ it’s amazing who God brings into my life.

I find some of their letters hard to read. Some are angry about the injustice of their situation, claiming their innocence. Most however, are content to serve out their sentences, knowing they are learning vital lessons about life. Many of them have a strong faith and often make me weep with their trusting words, expressed in the bleakest conditions.

One such man -I’ll call him Ken- was exceptional though. His first letter showed him to be a talented artist. He covered the cheap, thin prison envelope with a beautiful drawing of lillies and roses.

His words broke my heart. He truly believed he had angered God so much that he was unforgiveable. He quoted scripture to ‘prove’ it.

Ken had been convicted on three counts of child molestation. He hated himself and believed society (and specifically those he had hurt) hated him too. He prayed every day that he would not wake up.

The first time someone abused me, I was 6. The second time was when I was around 9. My abuse lasted years at the hands of a number of different men.

Imagine my heart when I read this man’s achingly desperate words.

What better person to tell this man that forgiveness didn’t depend on what HE had done but on what JESUS did for him 2000 years ago. My sin and his were nailed to the cross…. along with yours, my friend.

I never heard back from Ken. Perhaps the Lord took him as he prayed…. Perhaps my words were too much for him?

I pray that whatever happened, Ken read in my words that he had certain forgiveness, as all who approach Christ in true repentance can claim. And I pray too that this truth brought him real freedom.

I hope I get to hug him (and those men who hurt me) in heaven. I’ve learnt that the line from the Lord’s prayer ‘…and forgive us as we forgive those who sin against us…’ is far from a ‘bolt-on’ extra to my faith. Forgiveness may need to be a daily choice for some of us, but its a path I gladly and intentionally choose.

Who do you need to forgive right now?
Go ahead.
DO IT.
Trust me.
It sets you free.

emshancock.com