Joseph

So what do I write about Christmas?  Tough subject because Christmas is a time of family, and hope, and wishes fulfilled.  And prison?  Prison’s just the opposite.  It’s solitary and lonely and hope seems to be just beyond your grasp.  Fulfilled wishes?  More like unfulfilled.  Guys treat Christmas as just another day, another knocked off their remaining three, or seven, or ten years left to do.  Christmas in prison.  It’s hard to put into words everything that goes through your mind.  Memories of Christmases past, longings for Christmases in the future.

The country folk singer John Prine has a song, “Christmas in Prison”, that I find myself singing as I run. 

“It was Christmas in prison
And the food was real good
We had turkey and pistols
Carved out of wood
And I dream of her always
Even when I don’t dream
Her name’s on my tongue
And her blood’s in my stream.”

Christmas dreams.  What do I write, what do I put down on paper to explain exactly what I’m feeling as the day approaches?

Someone sent me pages of quotes from my favorite Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life”.  I love the character George Bailey.  And, like I did when I was out there, I choked up as I read George calling out to his guardian angel,

“Clarence! Clarence! Help me, Clarence.  Get me back.  Get me back.  I don’t care what happens to me.  Only get me back to my wife and kids.  Help me, Clarence, please.  Please!  I want to live again.  I want to live again.  I want to live again…Please, God, let me live again.”

Who can’t relate to George Bailey, at the end of his rope when nothing in his life, when everything in his life, seemed to come into crystal clear focus?  Everything was gone.  Everything was out of his control.  All he had left was that deep felt, primal plea to God “let me live again”. 

Christmas in prison and you’re alone and you’ve lost everything you worked for, everything you lived for.  What do I write?  And then Joseph came to mind.

I’m not talking about Egypt Joseph.  I’m talking about the largely forgotten Joseph.  And yet, without him I’m not sure there’d be “The Christmas Story.”

This guy asks a girl to marry him.  He’s doing alright for himself; he owns a small business, has a trade; he’s got his life planned out.  Only the girl comes to him and says “I’m pregnant”.  That is a major problem.  They hadn’t slept together, so it obviously isn’t his child.  So I imagine that conversation, how disappointed Joseph must have been.  All those plans, all the preparations he made, wasted.

Joseph does something out of character for most people.  He decided to keep things quiet, not embarrass the girl.  She’ll go home and he’ll say “things just didn’t work out”.  And then, he has a dream.  In his sleep an angel visits him and tells him to still get married.  “Don’t worry”, the angel says.  “It’s God’s child.”  The angel even tells Joseph what to name the baby.

Here’s the crazy part, the extraordinary part – Joseph listens.  He decides if God chose him to marry this girl, that was good enough for him.  Ever hear that voice deep in the back of your head, the one that tells you the right thing to do even when conventional wisdom tells you otherwise?  For years I heard that voice and I ignored it.  Then I got arrested and started following those little instructions even though it cost me everything.  And I learned on the outside my life appeared worse, but on the inside I’m stronger and I sleep better.  Funny how that voice works.

Joseph listened to the angel, but that wasn’t the end of the story.  He’s largely forgotten in the New Testament story and yet, without him I wonder if Emmanuel, “God is with us”, would mean the same thing. 

Christmas in prison.  What does it mean?  Sometimes we find ourselves in places we never imagined with dreams lost and we wonder what should we do?  And the voice tells us to “do the right thing”.  Life doesn’t suddenly turn out wonderfully.  In fact, things may get worse.  We have more in common, I think with Joseph than we do with George Bailey.  But like both men discovered, the Christmas message is alive, it’s real.  God is with us, even in prison.

So what do I write about this Christmas?  How about this? It’s a wonderful, blessed time, even in prison because I know the real message of hope exists.  As John Prine sang,

“It’s Christmas in Prison

They’ll be music tonight
I’ll probably get homesick
I love you
Good night.”

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Dreams

My mom sent me a copy of her minister’s sermon delivered the week before Christmas. Ironically, it was on a subject that I had jotted down in my notes a few weeks ago. I’d been thinking a good deal about the approaching New Year and how so many of the plans and dreams I had “BA18” (before August 18th) had been lost.



I’d been thinking during that time about Joseph. Here’s this guy. He’s about to get married to a young girl (he’d be her first) and start life as a newly married man handling his carpentry business. All of a sudden she shows up and says “I’ve got good news and bad news”. And Joseph finds out the woman he’s betrothed to is (1) favored by God, so much so that an angel paid her a visit; and (2) oh yeah, she’s pregnant.


Probably as bad as news can get for a Jewish guy living in Roman occupied Israel in 2 or 3 AD. Joseph is devastated, but he doesn’t want to hurt or publicly embarrass his bride to be (after all, announcing she was pregnant out of wedlock was a capital offense. She would have been stoned to death). Instead he decides to let her go quietly home.


All his dreams: the honeymoon, kids, his carpentry business; all are going out the window. But, an angel visits him and says “Keep her as your wife”. Joseph doesn’t argue. He doesn’t complain about the hand he’s been dealt. He does what he’s been told by God, not once, but again when he packs up and moves to Egypt to protect his wife and this baby he didn’t father.


There isn’t a lot written about Joseph, but he’s an integral part of the Christmas story. Every plan he’d made was thrown out the window when Mary told him she was pregnant. Yet, he trusted God and did the right thing and it made a difference.


As I’ve written before, early in my marriage I wondered why the beautiful young girl I fell so deeply in love with was so sad and depressed. I had changed every plan, every dream for my future to be with her and it wasn’t what I’d expected. I stayed because, well, that’s what you do when you love someone. You don’t bail out, you don’t give up on them, you stay and you trust and believe with all your heart because it’s the right thing to do.


Fast forward to 2010. Every dream I had growing old with that beautiful girl, watching my son graduate college, holidays with friends, my youngest son playing baseball and performing piano recitals, all gone.


You’d think I’d be bitter and depressed. I’m not. As I look back on this past year I’ve learned some amazing things about myself and realized I was wrong about so much in my life. I’ve made some friendships with men in this prison that I wouldn’t trade for anything: Big S, DC, Tyrone, Black, Craig and E to name a few.


I’ve had people outside and in here tell me how I’ve made a difference for them. I’ve learned to let go of many painful memories. And, I’ve learned patience and trust. Pretty ironic that all this took place in a cesspool like this.


It’s been a good year. All those times I was struggling, when I felt like I couldn’t go on, somebody was helping me. Maybe it was the day I got a letter from my cousin or my friends at home, or maybe it was the guy coming up to me and saying thank you, but those things happened when I needed them most.


I still have dreams. Maybe someday my ex will tell me she still loves me; maybe my sons will show up; maybe I’ll sell a book. I know this. God knows what I need. He’s got a plan for me.


I read a quote the other day:


“The black moment is the moment when the real transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light.”


2011 will be a bright year, even in prison.