Chapter 19: LOVE AND HATE

Love

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Matthew 22:39

“By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you have love and unselfish concern for one another.” John 13:35

“Did you see who’s back?” Jae asked me. I turned to see who she was talking about. The dayroom in Tubman was full. “There, by the window,” she added, pointing to a woman sitting by herself. I followed Jae’s hand and saw Tiffani. Tiffani, in her early 20’s, stared out the window sucking her thumb, rocking back and forth and gripping a strand of hair. I remembered her well and my heart sank. Tiffani was thirty behavior problems in one package. Right now she looked pitiful. 

Tiffani was in the GED program, but was ‘Hoffed’ out a year before I became a tutor. For overcrowding relief the prison would ‘HoF’ out (House Outside the Facility) inmates to county jails. Now I groaned, realizing she would be rejoining our class. My mind flashed to Edith.

As I read the Bible, themes stood out, like helping the poor. Lately the theme of loving others also stood out to me. I recorded it in my journal, thoughtfully and wondered, ‘How can I love people I don’t even like?’

“Who do you like?” Jesus answered my thought.

Hmmm. My children came to mind. I had a few friends in prison. I liked them. It was a short list. Now that I considered it I felt ashamed. Was I really such an unloving person?

“Who do I love?” Jesus pushed.

“Unlikeable sinners,” I answered, chastened. “But how do I do that?” I asked miserably.

“Ask Me for that love,” Jesus answered. “Ask to see people as I see them.”

C.S. Lewis says in his book Mere Christianity: “Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him.”

In order to do this, I created a prayer list and added Tiffani to it (reluctantly). I thought about other students and inmates and added them, too.

At first it was difficult to pray for people I wasn’t friends with and didn’t like. What should I ask for on their behalf? Jesus told me, “Start by asking that they be saved.” I did that. Jesus then added, “What would they ask for themselves?” Oh boy, this meant thinking about their lives, their wants, dreams and goals. I took more of an interest in their lives so I could pray more specifically. Soon I began to see people differently, more compassionately.

Laughter erupted behind me the next day. Melissa and I sat at a table in the day room playing a game. I didn’t know her well. She hadn’t been here long. “I’m worried about my teenage son,” she said, dropping a card on the table. My ears perked up as I could relate.

“What about?” I asked, laying down a card myself. Linda wandered over. Linda was back for the second time in a year. She told everyone her father was a preacher.

Linda dropped into a chair as Melissa answered, “Well, he’s been getting into trouble. We think he’s doing drugs, I’m not sure what else. My husband wants to send him to our church Camp.”

I considered it. Before prison, I focused on money and caregiving – provision and supervision – as central aspects of parenting. Once in prison, unable to do either, I became determined to find other important aspects of mothering. Now I worked on fostering spiritual knowledge, love, leadership, and respect. These were things I could pour into my children.

My relationship with Jesus kicked this work into high gear as I experienced personal transformation I’d never known was possible until now. Jesus nudged me out of my hesitation. “Melissa, would you write a letter to your son?” I asked her. She nodded. Linda watched us, curious. “Ok,” I continued, “I write weekly letters, umm, like Bible study letters, to my sons. I could share one with you, if you want.”

Melissa agreed. I wondered if she would feel comfortable teaching her son about the Bible and I could understand feeling hesitant. As parents we all desire to teach our children well. Issues can arise when we confuse a relationship with Jesus and moral rehabilitation strategies. The secret of my transformation was not in “what I was doing” but Who I’d met.

The next day, while reading the Bible, I puzzled. “The first will be last and the last will be first.” I had seen that several times. “What does that mean?” I asked Jesus. Sometimes when I asked Jesus a question I got an immediate answer. He might remind me of another Bible verse that explains it. Another way He explained things to me was with an object lesson – usually experiential. This time it was the latter.

Later that day I headed to dinner with the rest of my work site “Education,” which is the largest work site. We all made our way out of our living units, women from all over the campus streaming out of doors and heading down the sidewalks to the Core building, where a bottleneck formed at the door. Prison rush hour traffic, we called it. Someone jostled my elbow. I turned and a caseworker beside me said, “Sorry,” with a smile. We were all stuck in rush hour together, staff and inmates alike, elbow to elbow.

Finally through the door we walked single file away from the cafeteria, took a right past medical, walked down the next hall and took another right, walked another hall turning right again before finally making it back to the cafeteria which is actually right next to the building entrance. Now our single file line split into 3 lines, one on the right and left to receive a standard meal, and a third line on the other side of the room for those wanting an “Alternative” meal. I received my tray of food and followed the inmate before me to the next open chair. We were not allowed to sit wherever we liked.

My seat happened to be close to the Alternative tray pick up. I began to eat when a commotion caught my attention. Ignoring the long Alternative line a woman barged to the front and demanded the next tray, which she grabbed. She stormed off to the next table.

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth as I watched. I reviewed what just happened. That woman had a poor attitude. The others waiting in line were being respectful. Just then Jesus said in my heart, “The first will be last, and the last will be first.” Suddenly it made sense! Humility before honor, and pride before a fall. I smiled, grateful.

A week later I sat alone in the day room. Suddenly Linda dropped into a seat in front of me. Surprised, I looked up to see her frowning. Linda’s usually cheerful face appeared angry and oddly, a little smug.

“I read the letter you gave Melissa,” she said, waiting and I struggled to shift gears, so Linda added, “the letter you wrote to your kids, the one you gave her for her son.” Again, Linda waited for a reaction. Not sure where this was going, I smiled and nodded. Linda frowned, irritated. She spat out, “That was the stupidest letter I ever read!” Linda’s features turned hard. “I’m a preacher’s daughter and I want you to know that was the dumbest letter I ever read. It was poorly written. And your kids won’t learn anything! Why did you even bother?” Now she sat back and crossed her arms.

Shocked, I set aside my work. Leaning forward I answered, “Linda, as a preacher’s daughter you must know Paul, in the Bible, and what he wrote.” Flustered, my head spun from her hostility. Linda gave a small nod, so I continued, “Well Paul says he relied on the Holy Spirit to persuade people and not his own words.”

“He did not!” Linda argued, slapping the table for emphasis. I reached for my Bible, opening it to I Corinthians and slid it across the table, pointing to these verses: “My speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.” I Corinthians 2:4-5

Linda read it and pushed my Bible away. I continued, “I take this to mean that I could be the best writer and if God isn’t involved, it won’t do anything. Or I could be a very basic writer and God can use it.”

Linda’s rage seemed to increase as I spoke. “Do you even believe in God?!” she retorted. “Are you even a Christian?!” she added loudly. Confused, I considered her reddening face.

I considered Linda, an addict with multiple felonies, the daughter of a preacher. How often had she been asked these same questions by her parents? How often had she asked herself? I felt bad for her and didn’t answer her, just stood from the table and headed for my room.

A few weeks had passed since I’d added Tiffani to my prayer list. Now that I was praying for her, I became invested in the outcome. Something else resulted. Tiffani responded to my better attitude. As she did, I realized I had been the problem all along. She was nice! She became a friend. With this new experience, I saw others with a new set of eyes. Jesus would use this love to show me how to truly help the poor around me. His results would be tremendous!