His Mother's Voice

My buddy Rabbi Dave went home Monday. As I write this, he’s back in his house in Pennsylvania starting his life over. I’ve said this a lot in the blog, but prison is a tough place to build friendships. So much of what goes on in here is really a con game. Relationships don’t matter; it’s what you can get from someone that counts. It’s an environment where “trust” is a four letter words and “use” is the golden rule. And that has always bothered me.

            I try and be genuine in here. Who I am in prison is who I am with family and friends outside. Am I weary and cautious at times? I have to be. Still, guys I’m close with matter. And there are a handful – three to five – which I can see keeping in touch with. Rabbi Dave is one such guy.

            I’m glad I met Dave in here. He’s a good guy. And I’m glad he’s home. His last full day here, his mom drove down from PA to pick him up. The weather was terrible (ice and snow). Another guy in the building offered to get Dave patched through to his mom while she was on the road. I saw him on the phone; a few minutes later he stood by the door wiping his eyes. “You ok?” I asked. He told me that was the first time in over eight years that he’d heard his mother’s voice.

            They had had a falling out before his arrest and conviction. Contact between them had been sporadic for a number of years. I get that; more importantly, he got it. It’s easy, almost too easy, disappointing those we love. But time, and the bond between a son and his mother, helped to lessen the hurt and remind each that what was between them was stronger than what drove them apart.

            And I thought about something Pastor Rick Warren wrote recently. Warren, author of “The Purpose Driven Life,” has been dealing with the suicide of his youngest son, who had struggled with mental illness.

            “This year became the worst year of my life,” Warren wrote. “How am I supposed to be thankful?” He answered this way:

            “God doesn’t expect me to be thankful for all circumstances, but in all circumstances … God sees all I go through. He cares … God can bring good even out of the bad in my life … God loves to turn crucifixions into resurrections.”

            Eight years and he heard her voice; and he cried out of joy; and he went home. You can give me a dozen explanations for Dave’s new life beginning at home but I think Pastor Warren’s is the only one for me. Nothing good comes from prison but good can come from any circumstances. My friend Dave reminded me of that.