First, it’s nice to understand the connection you have to
this place. I didn’t personally know your
son, but I know of him. In fact, a
couple of the college guys were close to him.
I also knew the story about him sitting in the building one day when the
intercom announced “Pack up. You’re
free.” The story made its way around the
compound because everyone knows their release date. “How did he not know?” Guys would ask. But, one guy in the college program who knew Sketch
simply said, “That’s just him being him.”
As I’ve written in this blog numerous times over the years, I
hate hearing about guys getting out only to turn around within days, weeks,
months, and come right back in. It is
the height of narcissism, self-loathing and “coal bucket” stupidity to think
after a prison bid you can play fast and loose with the law. You can’t.
A released convict has a target on his back. It’s easy, way too easy in
fact, for the police to pick you up and put you right back in. You’d think guys would know that having seen
chucklehead after chucklehead walk out one day only to be seen pushing a cart
back up the boulevard the next. But guys
always think they’ll be the one to get away with it. They couldn’t be more self-centered or wrong.
Your son is that guy.
I wish I could tell you he isn’t, but that would be a lie. He hasn’t grown up; he hasn’t accepted responsibility
for himself and his actions; he just doesn’t give a damn. Sorry to be so harsh, but guys like Sketch
make it tougher on guys still inside who’ve turned their lives around and just
need a chance to get out and get on with life.
Sketch, like so many others, plays up to the worst stereotype imaginable
about a felon: “Once a prisoner, always
a prisoner.”
And I know from reading your posting you already know
that. But, I also know you’re asking me,
as a parent, what do you do. My answer
may surprise you. See, I don’t want you
to give up on your son. He may need to
spend another bid in prison, but don’t give up on him. Everyone, Alaska, is redeemable. I accept that as a core principle of faith
that a God who can create everything in the universe can most certainly open
anyone’s heart.
Redemption doesn’t come without a price. You can’t avoid the consequences of your
actions, but you can get a fresh start.
I’ve struggled with that the last few years but have come to accept that
there is a reason for all of this and a season – first of despair, then of hope.
So, I urge you to continue to hold out hope for your
son. Prison breaks you. Don’t let him fool you. It’s dehumanizing the lack of privacy,
respect and dignity you encounter in here.
He knows it; he just won’t admit it to you. I have yet to meet any man in here, from the
petty thief to the murderer who won’t honestly say there haven’t been nights so
lonely and desperate where your eyes well up with tears and you just say “I don’t
think I can do this.”
But, holding out hope doesn’t mean you have to continue to
support his reckless behavior. One of my
favorite Bible stores is the one about the prodigal son. He tells his father he doesn’t need him; he
takes his inheritance and goes out on his own leading a life of depravation and
sin. The interesting thing is, the
father didn’t chase after him, didn’t search for him. The father loved his son and let him go. The son had to figure it out for
himself. And when he did, the father
ran to him and accepted him back.
Alaska, no one is completely beyond repair. If and when Sketch decides he’s tired of this
place and the loss and loneliness that accompanies it, he’ll get it
together. Have faith.
Thanks for your posting.
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