![]() ![]() Only a trip to the shower or the doctor brought them from their cell. These were the walking dead, entombed in cold concrete mausoleums. Or they didn’t care anymore-all that mattered was venting rage or getting revenge. ![]() Souls so angry, so frustrated, they thought they could fight the system and get away with it. The SHU housed the worst offenders-the most rebellious, most dangerous, most violent. ![]() I thought about what life must be like, caged in that cell. ![]() In my heart I cried to God for her life, for liberation from sin and death, for a way to live behind razor-sharp barbed wire and monstrous walls that separated Lucinda from the beauty and solace of trees and gardens and ponds. I watched His words cut like a sword as I read and explained Romans 1 along with other scriptures. Mine were the words of man His are the words of life-divinely empowered. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this unusual opportunity came about because of God, and I was there because the women needed to hear not my words but God’s. Everything about Lucinda-the pallor of her skin, her shaved head, and the vacant stare of her eyes-spoke of death.Įvery fiber of my being-body, soul, and spirit-was focused on what I was doing. From where I stood, I could see the silhouette of Lucinda’s hard, flat, rail-like form through the small window next to the huge brownish orange iron door that locked her in. I was teaching in the Secured Housing Unit of the largest women’s prison in the United States. In 74 minutes, Lucinda would live, never to die again. ![]()
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