I Was A Prisoner
Stories
Contents
"I Was A Prisoner" by Peter Andrew Smith
"Thanksgiving and Advent" by John Fitzgerald
I Was A Prisoner
by Peter Andrew Smith
Matthew 25:31-46
The prison door slammed shut behind Gary. His heart raced as he stepped forward to the guard standing behind the security glass.
“You have your papers and identification?” the guard asked.
Gary slid them forward and watched the guard looked them over carefully and check his identification against the computer.
“You’re here to see Purcell?”
Gary nodded.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’m going to talk to him and pray with him.”
The guard slid his papers and identification back to him. “You know what he did, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know.” Gary tried not to think of what was presented in court and thought of Dorothy instead. She loved Purcell and that was why Gary was standing in front of a guard. “The warden required me to read the transcript of his trial before he would agree to this visit.”
“Animals like him don’t deserve anything but to be locked up.”
Gary put his identification back on his shirt. “Am I good to go in?”
The guard buzzed him through. “You’re wasting your time.”
Gary felt those words echo in his ears as he walked down the corridor toward the guard waiting for him on the other side. That guard patted down Gary again, made sure he understood the rules about visiting a prisoner, and handed him a Bible.
“Chaplain said you could have this. Not sure why since Purcell never goes to chapel.” The guard pointed. “You can go in and have a seat. We’ll bring him down as soon as the others are finished visiting.”
Gary frowned. “Can I ask why he has to wait?”
“Security,” the guard said. “He and some of the others got into it last week. So he has to wait until we get everyone else out.”
“The warden said I would have half an hour.” Gary looked at the clock.
“You’ll be lucky to have ten minutes.” The guard shrugged. “Nothing we can do.”
“I’ll wait.” Gary sat down at an empty table and opened his Bible to Matthew 25 to remind himself why he was sitting in a prison waiting to see a man he had never met before. He glanced up as each person and visitor left. When the room was empty Purcell was led in and chained to the table.
“Is that really necessary?” Gary asked. “No one else was chained during visiting hours.”
“No one else did what he did.” The guard looked up at the clock. “Five minutes until visiting is finished. I’ll be over by the door if there are any problems.”
Purcell stared at Gary. “Do I know you?”
“No, we’ve never met.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I used to sing in the choir with your grandmother, Dorothy.”
“My grandmother is dead.” Purcell growled. “They wouldn’t let me go to her funeral.”
“I know. I was at her funeral. She used to speak about you all the time.”
Purcell let a ghost of a smile touch his face. “She liked me.”
“She did.”
“So why are you here?” Purcell asked.
“I’ve come to visit you.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother can’t visit you any longer.”
“So? How is that any concern of yours?”
“I believe everyone deserves to have someone come to see them when they’re in prison.” Gary took a deep breath. “You’re the grandson of someone I knew and you’re a child of God.”
Purcell stared at him.
“Wrap it up,” the guard said from the doorway. “You’ve got a minute or two until he’s back in his cage.”
“I don’t get visitors since Gran died,” Purcell said.
“I’m happy to come and visit you weekly if you would like.”
Purcell eyed the Bible in front of Gary. “You going to try and save me?”
“We can read from the Bible, we can pray, or we can simply talk.”
“I’m not one for praying.” Purcell narrowed his eyes. “Do you know what I did?”
Gary nodded.
“And you still want to visit me?”
“I do.”
Purcell resumed staring at Gary. Finally a guard came over and unchained him from the table to take him back to his cell.
Purcell finally spoke. “I’m okay if you come back.”
“Then I’ll see you next week.”
Purcell nodded. Gary picked up the Bible and handed it to the guard at the door.
“Seemed like a waste of your time,” that guard said. “All he did was sit there and stare at you.”
“Yes, he did.” Gary smiled. “I’ll see you next week.”
The guard frowned as he buzzed Gary out of the prison. Gary stepped forward with a sense of peace knowing that he was walking in the way of Jesus.
* * *
Thanksgiving and Advent
by John Fitzgerald
Psalm 65
Maxie Dunman once wrote an article on stewardship that has always reminded me of the fact that God is the one who is ultimately in charge. As the Psalmist said, “We owe God the praise!” After all, “It is God who provides the land for us.”
In his article, Turn in an Account of Your Stewarship, Dunman tells the story of an enormously rich man who complained to a psychiatrist that despite his great wealth which enabled him to have whatever he wanted, he still felt miserable.
The psychiatrist took the man to the window overlooking the street and asked, "What do you see?" The man replied, "I see men, women, and children." The psychiatrist then took the man to stand in front of mirror and asked, "Now what do you see?" The man said, "I see only myself."
The psychiatrist then said, "In the window there is a glass and in the mirror there is glass, and when you look through the glass of the window, you see others, but when you look into the glass of the mirror you see only yourself. The reason for this, "said the psychiatrist, "is that behind the glass in the mirror is a layer of silver. When silver is added, you cease to see others. You only see yourself."
Whenever our devotion to money and material things causes us to be self -centered, we are in essence denying God's intention for our lives.
An old legend tells how a man once stumbled upon a great red barn after wandering for days in a forest in the dark. He was seeking refuge from the howling winds of a storm. He entered the barn and his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. To his astonishment, he discovered that this was the barn where the devil kept his storehouse of seeds. They were the seeds that were sown in the hearts of humans. The man became curious and lit a match. He began exploring the piles of bins of seeds round him. He couldn’t help but notice that the greatest majority of them said, “Seeds of Discouragement.”
About that time one of the devil’s helpers arrived to pick up a load of seeds. The man asked him, “Why the abundance of discouragement seeds?” The helper laughed and replied, “Because they are so effective and they take root so quickly.” “Do they grow everywhere?” the man asked. At that moment the devil’s helper became very sullen. He glared at the man and in disgust he said, “No. They never seem to grow in the heart of a grateful person.”
God wants us to have a thankful heart. God wants to be praised. And by being grateful we are acknowledging God as the true source of all things.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 26, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"I Was A Prisoner" by Peter Andrew Smith
"Thanksgiving and Advent" by John Fitzgerald
I Was A Prisoner
by Peter Andrew Smith
Matthew 25:31-46
The prison door slammed shut behind Gary. His heart raced as he stepped forward to the guard standing behind the security glass.
“You have your papers and identification?” the guard asked.
Gary slid them forward and watched the guard looked them over carefully and check his identification against the computer.
“You’re here to see Purcell?”
Gary nodded.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’m going to talk to him and pray with him.”
The guard slid his papers and identification back to him. “You know what he did, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know.” Gary tried not to think of what was presented in court and thought of Dorothy instead. She loved Purcell and that was why Gary was standing in front of a guard. “The warden required me to read the transcript of his trial before he would agree to this visit.”
“Animals like him don’t deserve anything but to be locked up.”
Gary put his identification back on his shirt. “Am I good to go in?”
The guard buzzed him through. “You’re wasting your time.”
Gary felt those words echo in his ears as he walked down the corridor toward the guard waiting for him on the other side. That guard patted down Gary again, made sure he understood the rules about visiting a prisoner, and handed him a Bible.
“Chaplain said you could have this. Not sure why since Purcell never goes to chapel.” The guard pointed. “You can go in and have a seat. We’ll bring him down as soon as the others are finished visiting.”
Gary frowned. “Can I ask why he has to wait?”
“Security,” the guard said. “He and some of the others got into it last week. So he has to wait until we get everyone else out.”
“The warden said I would have half an hour.” Gary looked at the clock.
“You’ll be lucky to have ten minutes.” The guard shrugged. “Nothing we can do.”
“I’ll wait.” Gary sat down at an empty table and opened his Bible to Matthew 25 to remind himself why he was sitting in a prison waiting to see a man he had never met before. He glanced up as each person and visitor left. When the room was empty Purcell was led in and chained to the table.
“Is that really necessary?” Gary asked. “No one else was chained during visiting hours.”
“No one else did what he did.” The guard looked up at the clock. “Five minutes until visiting is finished. I’ll be over by the door if there are any problems.”
Purcell stared at Gary. “Do I know you?”
“No, we’ve never met.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I used to sing in the choir with your grandmother, Dorothy.”
“My grandmother is dead.” Purcell growled. “They wouldn’t let me go to her funeral.”
“I know. I was at her funeral. She used to speak about you all the time.”
Purcell let a ghost of a smile touch his face. “She liked me.”
“She did.”
“So why are you here?” Purcell asked.
“I’ve come to visit you.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother can’t visit you any longer.”
“So? How is that any concern of yours?”
“I believe everyone deserves to have someone come to see them when they’re in prison.” Gary took a deep breath. “You’re the grandson of someone I knew and you’re a child of God.”
Purcell stared at him.
“Wrap it up,” the guard said from the doorway. “You’ve got a minute or two until he’s back in his cage.”
“I don’t get visitors since Gran died,” Purcell said.
“I’m happy to come and visit you weekly if you would like.”
Purcell eyed the Bible in front of Gary. “You going to try and save me?”
“We can read from the Bible, we can pray, or we can simply talk.”
“I’m not one for praying.” Purcell narrowed his eyes. “Do you know what I did?”
Gary nodded.
“And you still want to visit me?”
“I do.”
Purcell resumed staring at Gary. Finally a guard came over and unchained him from the table to take him back to his cell.
Purcell finally spoke. “I’m okay if you come back.”
“Then I’ll see you next week.”
Purcell nodded. Gary picked up the Bible and handed it to the guard at the door.
“Seemed like a waste of your time,” that guard said. “All he did was sit there and stare at you.”
“Yes, he did.” Gary smiled. “I’ll see you next week.”
The guard frowned as he buzzed Gary out of the prison. Gary stepped forward with a sense of peace knowing that he was walking in the way of Jesus.
* * *
Thanksgiving and Advent
by John Fitzgerald
Psalm 65
Maxie Dunman once wrote an article on stewardship that has always reminded me of the fact that God is the one who is ultimately in charge. As the Psalmist said, “We owe God the praise!” After all, “It is God who provides the land for us.”
In his article, Turn in an Account of Your Stewarship, Dunman tells the story of an enormously rich man who complained to a psychiatrist that despite his great wealth which enabled him to have whatever he wanted, he still felt miserable.
The psychiatrist took the man to the window overlooking the street and asked, "What do you see?" The man replied, "I see men, women, and children." The psychiatrist then took the man to stand in front of mirror and asked, "Now what do you see?" The man said, "I see only myself."
The psychiatrist then said, "In the window there is a glass and in the mirror there is glass, and when you look through the glass of the window, you see others, but when you look into the glass of the mirror you see only yourself. The reason for this, "said the psychiatrist, "is that behind the glass in the mirror is a layer of silver. When silver is added, you cease to see others. You only see yourself."
Whenever our devotion to money and material things causes us to be self -centered, we are in essence denying God's intention for our lives.
An old legend tells how a man once stumbled upon a great red barn after wandering for days in a forest in the dark. He was seeking refuge from the howling winds of a storm. He entered the barn and his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. To his astonishment, he discovered that this was the barn where the devil kept his storehouse of seeds. They were the seeds that were sown in the hearts of humans. The man became curious and lit a match. He began exploring the piles of bins of seeds round him. He couldn’t help but notice that the greatest majority of them said, “Seeds of Discouragement.”
About that time one of the devil’s helpers arrived to pick up a load of seeds. The man asked him, “Why the abundance of discouragement seeds?” The helper laughed and replied, “Because they are so effective and they take root so quickly.” “Do they grow everywhere?” the man asked. At that moment the devil’s helper became very sullen. He glared at the man and in disgust he said, “No. They never seem to grow in the heart of a grateful person.”
God wants us to have a thankful heart. God wants to be praised. And by being grateful we are acknowledging God as the true source of all things.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 26, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
