The Joshua Principle

This past week I found myself thinking back to an incident during my time at the receiving unit.  I had been placed in a cell with a psychotic 24 year-old gang leader beginning a 76 year sentence for the double murder of two rival gang members.  A day or two after my arrival, he asked me to read his appeal.  He wanted to make sure his court appointed lawyer wasn’t “screwing” him over.  What I read chilled me.  I realized I was in an 8 X 8 cell with a man who had no conscience.

One particular incident stood out in the paperwork.  He had held a gun pressed against the head of a six month old baby to force the parents to turn over a few thousand dollars in cash.  I couldn’t imagine such cold, detached behavior.  His eyes were black as coal.  He showed no empathy, no humanity.  He was prescribed psychotropic drugs to control his anger and stop “voices” he heard.  He pocketed the pills and sold them around the facility.  He preyed on the weak. On more than one occasion I saw him physically hurt another inmate.

By the time I met him I’d been in jail a little more than a year.  Shortly after my arrest I had contemplated taking my life.  I was afraid, lonely, and hopeless.  God, however, had other plans for me.  During my time at the jail I faced a number of difficult days.  On more than one occasion, my life was threatened.  Yet, I was never afraid.  I had made a deal with God in the jail and was sure, no matter what I faced, I’d be alright.

But prison receiving on this morning would test my belief.  Every morning at 5:00 am there was a standing count.  Every morning I stood.  Every morning, my cellmate lay in bed and yelled expletives at the officers.  On this particular morning, my cellmate was asleep when the officers came by.  There was a mutual hatred that existed between the counting officer and my cellie.  It had grown and festered over eighteen months of fights, verbal abuse, and disrespect.  This morning, the officer decided to get even.

I stood at the end of my bunk.  “Cover your ears”, the officer said to me before letting loose with a blast on his whistle.  The sound vibrated off the cell walls and startled my cellie.  He sat up too quickly and fell off his top bunk landing with a sickening thud.  He lay motionless.  Fearing he was hurt, I walked over to him and reached for his arm.  He jumped up, ran to the cell door and unloaded verbal volley upon volley at the officer.  Then, he turned his attention to me.

Pushing me against the cell door, he screamed at me with spittle coming off his lips.  “I’ll kill you. You stand again and I’ll rip your throat open and watch you drown on your own blood!” For a second, I stood frozen.  And then, I thought about my ex-wife and sons and how I let them down.  I failed them as a husband and father.  Everything I was going through was a direct result of my bad decisions and my fears.  And I realized right then that it’s a lot worse living with shame than standing – and possibly dying – for principle.

I don’t know why, but I stepped forward, into my cellmate.  “I’ll stand up everyday” I said.  “I’m better than this place.  I’ll do the right thing and I’ll get out of here.”  I waited for the attack.  But, it never came.  My cellmate turned around and climbed back in his bunk.  The next day I moved buildings.  Shortly after that, my cellie beat a middle aged white inmate severely.  That assault led DOC to finally ship him to a maximum security prison. 

Why am I telling this story?  It’s in response to a recent posting by an “Anonymous” reader who obviously knows me from the outside yet chooses to hide behind anonymity on the blog.  I never hide the truth when I write, and I don’t make smug accusations while hiding behind “Anonymous” postings.

One of my favorite Bible verses is in the first chapter of the book of Joshua.  The people of Israel have been wandering in the wilderness for forty years being cleansed and prepared by God.  It wasn’t easy and often time they felt abandoned and forgotten by their God.  “If only we’d stayed” was a common refrain.  God never breaks His promises and the day came for them to enter the Promised Land.  Problem was, their leader, the man who led them there – Moses – had died.  Joshua, a brave, trusted leader was called on to replace Moses.

And Joshua, naturally, wasn’t sure he was up to the task.  But then Chapter 1 begins and God speaks to Joshua and gives him two profound promises.  The first, do not fear; be strong and courageous because I am with you.  The second, do not turn to the left or right, but follow My path and you will succeed at whatever I give you.

I remember the first day in jail when I read those verses and I remember the overwhelming sense of peace and confidence I felt.  And it dawned on me that Joshua wasn’t chosen because he was perfect.  Just like Moses (a murderer), Joshua was very human; he failed and sinned.  God, however, knew what was in his heart.

I am frequently asked in here about certain aspects of my faith.  Guys will misread Romans 8:28 and say “God led me to prison”.  That’s not what Paul was saying.  He didn’t say “God makes you do everything you do for a good purpose”.  No, what he said was “God causes all things to work together for good….”  That means if – and when – we screw up, if we admit it and remember God’s promises, He will set us back on the road to the Promised Land.

My life is an open book.  I am not a perfect person and I have done a number of things I’m not proud of. And, nothing weighs on me more than the loss of my wife and sons.  But I wonder, “Anonymous” if you’re willing to shed the same light on your shortcomings?  I doubt that you are.  I can figure out who you are and then write back, detailing all your indiscretions, failures and improprieties – but why bother. 

See, in some very difficult, trying circumstances, God helped me to discover the person He always saw.  The fact that it had to come out through a place like this just proves God understands irony.

One of the lessons I’ve learned is the difference between so many of the men I’ve met in here and the folks I knew on the outside is merely one of degree.  “Anonymous” bears a lot of the same cold, unempathetic world views of my receiving unit cellmate.  It’s the view that we can’t step back and spend even a moment in someone else’s shoes.

Anonymous doesn’t know my full story, doesn’t know what went on behind closed doors at my home.  Worse, Anonymous doesn’t even take the time to ask what they would have done if facing the same choices I faced.  No, instead Anonymous smugly takes shots and thinks they are justified.

As Bob Dylan prophesized, “a hard rains gonna fall”.  Everyone screws up, everyone faces that moment staring into the abyss.  And some are given a second chance, maybe even a third or fourth chance.

How you judge is how you will be judged.  Pretty straight-forward isn’t it.  It’s a reminder that we all fall short and as Atticus Finch tells his daughter Scout in “To Kill a Mockingbird”, “we have to walk around in another man’s skin to understand them.”

I like to think my five years in this wilderness – caused by my own actions – have given me an opportunity to witness the humanity that exists even in places of despair such as this.  And, my eyes have been open to the failures the system creates.  And Anonymous, you don’t know what it’s like in here and if you think some people deserve it you are closer to being like that cellmate than you know.

I learned the Joshua principle early on in jail.  Perhaps, Anonymous, it’s time you pay attention to it as well.