One of the major strands of the fabric of reason that led my wife and me to the Dominican Republic was the fact that our daughter is there. Yes, I did feel the distinct leading of the Lord to retire from public school teaching and to use my experience to “work for the Kingdom” in a more direct and full time basis; but underneath was always the hope and prayer that the Lord would use us to be a support to our daughter in the Dominican Republic.
After praying for a few years about this, the Lord opened a door of opportunity for me to teach at Santiago Christian School. Now I not only have the mission of sharing the gospel in the classroom of a nearly 80% non-Christian student body population, but it is only a few hours by bus to see our daughter. For the past five months we have been consumed with four major goals:
1. actively trying to set up our apartment so our daughter can live with us,
2. learning how to speak of God in the classroom after 38 years of being
trained not to,
3. learning to live in a different culture,
4. and, visiting our daughter as much a opportunity will allow.
Since her birthday is very close to Christmas we knew that we wanted to visit her sometime during the holiday break. The prison where she lives sponsors two unique visitation days during the year. One is on Christmas Eve and the other is on New Year’s Eve. Normally a visitor is searched thoroughly and only then he is able to enter almost naked (at least I feel naked without my mini Day-Timer and pencil!) and allowed to stay only two hours.
But on these two special days we are able to bring in food and stay most of the day. In addition, instead of being confined to the cafeteria for visitation as usual, we are allowed to wander around outside in the exercise area. So our goal was to visit on Christmas Eve and bring as much food as we could carry on the two-hour bus ride down to see her.
Since we don’t have our own transportation it takes a series of small miracles for us to visit this women’s prison just outside of San Cristóbal … even on a normal visit. So we were praying more fervently for this special Christmas celebration. Not only did she announce that we should bring extra food to feed 20 to 25 other foreign prisoners that she was inviting to eat with her, but she has also been organizing a special project of providing some physical needs for some of the women in this prison. This attitude in the life of our daughter is nothing short of a miracle.
There is nothing like a foreign prison to bring a person to ones knees … at least this was our daughter’s experience. After living a number of years on her own in a pursuit of pleasure and turning away from God she learned the hard way the meaning of what Christ said, “Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin.” (John 8:34) She became enslaved to her own appetites until one day a foolish choice resulted in a seven-year sentence in a Dominican prison. During that first year in prison, like the Prodigal Son, she “came to herself” and returned to the Father.
Our daughter has become a living example of what David wrote about in Psalm 116:3-9.
The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me:
I found trouble and sorrow.
Then called I upon the name of the Lord;
Lord, I beseech Thee, deliver my soul.
Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful.
The Lord preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and He helped me.
Return unto thy rest, O my soul;
for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.
For Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears,
and my feet from falling.
I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.
Since her conversion, she has mentioned more than once, “I came to prison to find my freedom.” It has been 3 ½ years now and it is possible that she can be released on parole to live with us in the next few months. Sensing the short time left in this prison where she has made many friends and grown spiritually with many of them, she wants to do two things:
1. Begin encouraging other women to take the reins of spiritual leadership so
the work of fellowship and witnessing can continue when she leaves.
2. Organize a way to provide for the needs of some of the “forgotten” women
in the prison.
These concerns were on her heart as she looked forward to our visit on Christmas Eve, and we were praying that we could be used of God to help.
As soon as my school released for Christmas break on the 19th we put our full attention to the task of being ready to visit our daughter. As one can probably imagine, it took us four full days to find the right ingredients in this strange country, cook all the food, and organize the details of transportation. At the risk of an understatement I need to say that it is definitely harder to accomplish projects in this country. Carol’s apple pie is one example of this reality.
Wanting to bring special foods that our daughter hasn’t been able to eat in prison (such as an apple pie) we scoured several grocery stores to assemble the closest facsimiles of the necessary ingredients that we could find. Then on the day before we were to leave I peeled the green apples while my wife attempted to make the crust.
An hour later the apples were peeled but the crust had not materialized. It just plain did not turn out. After another half hour on the Internet she came back into the kitchen brandishing a viable alternative … a recipe called “Easy Apple Crisp”!
At the very instant that she finished putting the ingredients in the 9x13 glass baking pan with the brown sugar oatmeal topping, she knocked over an empty drinking glass on the counter which shattered. Although it was a distance away it took 15 minutes of peering through a magnifying glass to satisfy ourselves that no glass landed in the dessert.
Twisting the knob of the gas oven to the estimated Celsius degrees that supposedly corresponded to 375 degrees Fahrenheit she placed the glass pan on the rack, closed the door, and waited. About a half hour later we heard the sickening sound of a loud crack coming from the oven. Sure enough, the glass pan which we had purchased in a local Wal-Mart-type store had cracked in half. (She has now learned to stay away from anything that does not have the name Pyrex!) By now our “hope” tank was pretty empty, not to mention the “time” tank that was ticking away, so we reluctantly gave up on the apple pie/crisp and focused on cutting all the grapes in half to dig out the seeds for the fruit salad. Another lesson in patience and trusting God for events that don’t turn out the way we had pictured!
But, as Psalm 116 mentioned, God is gracious. We were ready to leave the next morning at 5:15 (barely … a late night gave us only a few hours of sleep); a friend picked us up to deliver us to the bus station (barely … on the way to our place he was blocked by a drunken parade of all night Christmas revelers); the food survived the two-hour bus trip (barely … we had to wipe up a few spills when we got there); and the family that picked us up at the bus station in Santo Domingo to take us to the prison also brought some food (lots of food)! So God had graciously provided for all our needs.
The woman that picked us up at the Santo Domingo bus station knew our daughter from visiting her with a church group who does a prison ministry. She has been saved for about 10 years and God has placed on her heart to have a ministry with these women prisoners. Although married to a Dominican she is from Peru, and her parents and brother were visiting for the holidays, so they came along. What a blessing to get to know this family … each one walking with Jesus with a testimony of being delivered from darkness to light in the last few years.
While many people waited in line outside the prison to get in, we simply drove up in the car which was laden with food, and with a few animated words of Spanish, the gates swung open. This in itself is very rare but this lady is known and trusted by the prison director. The director met each of us with a warm hug and a broad smile (a bit different than the austere prison warden that I had for a mental image before I came.) She has been here for only a half year and our daughter calls her a God-sent. The conditions of the prison have improved, a lot in part because she is recognizing the benefit of allowing Christian ministries more access to help the women.
True to her word our daughter had invited 20 to 25 women for our get together in the prison cafeteria. It reminded me of my few visits to the Rescue Mission with my pastor when I was in high school. With the food perched on the cement table and the aroma filling the large cafeteria, the women were asked to meet for awhile to hear the gospel first.
While Erika, our Peruvian driver, shared the message that God had laid on her heart, the ladies listened. I looked around at the assortment of prisoners that had gathered. Some were young and pretty … others were older and had the hard lines of a tough life etched in their faces. Among them were drug dealers, prostitutes, murderers … each hearing the gospel message that in the death of Christ our sins have been forgiven and eternal life offered to any who would receive the gift by faith. It reminded me of some verses in I Corinthians 6:9-11 that stood out to me this year in my Bible reading:
Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the Kingdom of God?
Be not deceived: Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor
effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor
covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit
the Kingdom of God. And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but
ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus,
and by the Spirit of our God.
When Erika finished sharing the simple message of salvation our daughter gave an animated testimony of how the Lord answered her prayer two days ago when she was asked to do an interview at the downtown courthouse in front of several judges and the district attorney. Evidently a number of men and women who were on parole had also been asked to attend. So she used this as an opportunity to give her testimony and was thrilled at the power and peace that God gave her to do this. And she wanted the women to know how God had helped her.
After she shared this testimony and praise with the women, they asked her to sing one of the songs that she has written while in prison. With her eyes closed and hands raised in praise she sang a song about the love and freedom that she has found in Christ in the middle of a hard situation. Although I couldn’t understand the Spanish words that she was singing, I could tell that the ladies who were listening could identify with its message. One lady next to me began to cry and continued throughout most of the meeting. It had the earmarks to me of the Holy Spirit’s conviction but I’m so lost with most of what goes on in this culture with its strange language and customs that I couldn’t tell for sure. But later when our daughter talked with her she discovered that this woman wanted to turn her life over to Christ.
Erika, our Peruvian evangelist, talked with her and another woman who wanted to turn from lesbianism and smoking with the power of Christ. Both wanted to make a public decision in front of everyone so we prayed for them. Later another woman, with tears in her eyes, told me (in Spanish) that she had been praying for this woman to receive Christ for a long time.
A jubilant, rotund woman from Jamaica found my wife and me and gave us a huge bear hug as she pointed to her feet. The shoes we had bought for her a couple of months ago were the only shoes she has owned since coming to the prison two years ago. This was the first time she had the opportunity to thank us personally.
Another delivery of pajamas and undergarments and clothing were delivered on this day again to women who are too poor to buy anything. Many Latin prisons, including this one, depend on the care of relatives to provide for their inmates. Those women with no relatives nearby have many needs since they are without proper clothing and food and love. Our daughter has seen this and organized a “project” which she introduced to some of the people who minister in the prison. These people in turn have related this concern to their respective churches. With her inside information and the generosity and love of God’s people, many of these women are now being provided for in the name of Jesus.
After the preaching and testifying was over, two large pieces of butcher paper were taped to the wall and the women were divided into two groups to play Pictionary. This is one activity I felt I could be part of … a competitive game! The only problem is that I couldn’t tell when to stop drawing because they were shouting the answers out in Spanish. But this didn’t keep my side from winning by one point. (Yeah!)
When the food was uncovered and the flies shooed away, the women lined up to feast on food they hadn’t seen for a very long time … rice, chicken, fresh-fruit salad, deep fried steak strips, “I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-a-Dip” with chips, Dominican-style potato salad, chocolate chip cookies, Rocky-road fudge, and pop. Even after the ladies finished, much food was left over, so they brought it outside to offer it to the other inmates who had visitors with them sitting under large white awnings. It reminded me of the story when Jesus fed the 5000 but still had 12 basketfuls of food left over … nothing wasted but plenty for everyone.
Erika and her family remembered that our daughter’s birthday was in a few days. With great flare they produced a huge chocolate cake with a large, lighted six-inch candle in the middle. She managed to blow it out before the breeze extinguished it. Then the women sang “Happy Birthday” in English with an accent so heavy that I had to chuckle to myself. Before the song was over, every person in that huge cafeteria had stopped what they were doing and joined in … finishing with some kind of peppy, hand-clapping Spanish rendition of birthday recognition that I wasn’t familiar with. The prison has about 350 inmates in it, and although they are divided into distinct cell blocks and living quarters (called “pabellons) they all know who our “gringa” daughter is.
After we finished eating we cleaned up everything and moved outside to make room for others who were waiting to come in. For the next hour or so we visited outside with our daughter and more in depth with her friends … most of whom we had heard about for several years but never met.
Since this sunny climate is not friendly to my white, bald head I had to seek shelter in the shade near the edge of the erected awnings. Unbeknown to us it had rained that morning and a pool of water had gathered on the awning just above my head. While my wife and I and daughter were deep in discussion, a sharp gust of wind caught the awning dumping the gallon of water on us like the proverbial “bucket-of-water-over-the-door” practical joke. About a hundred people behind us laughed hilariously. I guess we were a hit as we jumped up and began to shake the water off our heads like a dog after a bath.
No less than three times our daughter mentioned that this was the happiest day of her life. She was so excited that she couldn’t even eat even though she had looked forward to this meal since Thanksgiving when we planned it. I pondered that statement on the long bus ride back home… “The happiest day of my life.” Wow! It was uttered in genuine sincerity and I had no doubt that she meant it … but a girl in prison surrounded by less than desirable conditions and the riff raff of society … experiencing more joy and happiness than any time in her life? This is a miracle of God … not only in the obvious replacement of her heart of stone with a heart of flesh, but with the work that God has been able to do through her as she is open to the Spirit’s leading in her life.
The time ended too soon. Erika had to leave to rescue her husband from babysitting their two children, so we left with her early in order to catch the bus back home to Santiago. My wife and I were beat …. after experiencing the let down of a four-day project. We found a taxi driver who delivered us to our apartment safely and we went to bed early. As I look back on this holiday it is an understatement to say that it wasn’t exactly a normal or traditional holiday celebration, but I can praise God that He allowed me to spend Christmas Eve in prison.
