Prison Ministry Reimagined

When you think prison ministry, what image comes to mind? If you’re like most Christians, you might envision visiting a jail on the outskirts of town, perhaps leading a Bible study or prayer meeting with six or eight inmates dressed in orange jumpers.

It would be easy to beg off this sort of ministry as “not my calling” or “not my gift.” Of course, God has called some people to minister directly to inmates, but prison ministries in churches around the country need not be limited to such a one-dimensional ministry. The Bible tells us to remember the prisoners as though we ourselves are prisoners. This sort of empathy is challenging, if not impossible, for most of us. For me, however, the empathy is all too real, because from 2012 until 2016, I was incarcerated in a Federal prison camp.

Old School Prison Ministry

I saw my share of volunteers who came to minister to us, and I appreciated their ministry more than words can describe, but the greatest ministry I experienced in my time there involved men and women who had never set foot on that campus or any other prison. They weren’t affiliated with a particular church or congregation, nor were they sent by a prison ministry or organization. They did not even minister to my personal physical, spiritual, or emotional needs; instead they ministered to the needs of my family, and in so doing, provided a ministry to me that surpassed anything I might have imagined before I became an inmate.

One of the worst consequences of incarceration, aside from the physical separation one experiences from one’s family, lies in the overwhelming feeling of helplessness and despair. Many inmates file appeals or seek commutations and sentence reductions, fighting for hope against insurmountable odds. But when the hope of a successful appeal, a stay, or the vacating of their sentence evaporates, a helpless sensation lingers that convinces an inmate that there is nothing more they can do, for themselves or for their family.

From the time our children were very young, my wife and I participated in Angel Tree toy drives, a ministry that provides toys to the children of inmates at Christmas. Perhaps because of my previous experience as a donor, I’ll never forget the tightness in my throat when they handed out Angel Tree forms at chapel in August during my first year of incarceration. Suddenly, those nearly emotionless years of innocently buying gifts for the children whose names were written on angel-shaped ornaments became quite palpable, empathetic, and real to me. But Christmas gifts for the children of inmates only scratches the surface of the potential held by a prison ministry that focuses not on inmates, but on their families.

Prison Ministry Reimagined

Allow me to illustrate by telling you about my friend Louis. Although certainly amiable and cordial, prior to my incarceration I would not necessarily have considered Louis a close friend. We met in 2009, some three years before I was charged. When we first met, he lived in Orlando, while I lived about an hour away in Ocala. After being introduced by a common associate, we shared some phone conversations and a few meals, but at most we were just good acquaintances. In 2010, I moved to Dallas, and the distance strained whatever friendship we shared. But in late 2012, shortly after I reported to the prison camp, our friendship took a dramatic turn.

Louis wanted to help, and he took the initiative. He asked to remain anonymous to my family, as he wanted to minister to them on my behalf, but he wanted no credit. That, he said, should accrue to me as the husband and father. He then asked for my wife’s and children’s ages, birthdays, favorite colors, favorite candies, interests, hobbies, and the like. He wanted to get to know them, if only superficially. Louis, his wife, and their children “adopted” us. Throughout my incarceration, they stayed on the lookout for items they thought Pam or the kids might like. The items weren’t particularly expensive, but they were usually quite personal. Then, on their birthdays, at Christmas, or on other special occasions, Louis mailed care packages from a P.O. Box in Orlando (to preserve his anonymity) directly to my family. Using the Bureau of Prison’s version of email called Corrlinks, I sent personal notes to him that he enclosed with the gifts. While I was helpless to provide such meaningful gifts to my family, Louis acted on my behalf to provide for the material wants of my wife and children. The enormity of the impact still staggers me. To protect his identity, whenever I spoke to my family about Louis, I jokingly referred to him as my elf. But really, he was more like an angel.

Whenever I spoke to my family about Louis, I jokingly referred to him as my elf. But really, he was more like an angel.

I had many other angels who supported my family. Richard, who lives in Tennessee, coached Pam via phone through plumbing or other maintenance issues on the house. Dan, a CPA in Florida, helped her with her taxes and discussed financial matters with her. John took Pam to an auto repair shop in Dallas and paid for maintenance on her car before a trip to Florida. Once in Florida, David bought tires for her, and had them mounted and balanced. Donna replaced her washing machine when Pam could no longer do the repairs with the help of YouTube. Another David brought a chocolate cake by the house on Pam’s birthday, while yet another David sent her a text wishing her a good day. Another friend sent her housekeeper by every other week to clean. Kristina found out about Pam’s first visit to see me, and the roach motel she stayed in, and offered to use her husband’s rewards points to book her a room at the Hampton (a huge upgrade); Pam didn’t pay for another hotel night for the rest of her visits. Richard and Lisa drove Pam to our daughter’s state swim meet in San Antonio, covering her meals and other costs along the way. I could go on for pages with the names of families that sent checks, gas cards, gift cards, and cash at the perfect times throughout my incarceration. (Coincidence fails as a relevant term when the exact amount needed repeatedly arrived the day before the expense occurred. And it happened over and over and over again.)

There were also angels who cared for my children. One family hired my daughter, Amber, to babysit numerous times, and paid her generously to help fund her mission trips. Jeff took Alden to the midnight opening of a Marvel movie. Bob took Abram to the batting cages and out with his son to play catch. Ron provided scholarships for all three kids to attend camp each summer and gave Amber the opportunity to work at the camp. The parents of one of Abram’s teammates approached Pam after a soccer game and said, “We recently heard about your situation and believe God is leading us to provide orthodontic treatment for your two older children.” And they followed through.

Homecoming dresses, baseball uniforms, sports fees, school supplies, tuition, tennis shoes and more, all provided by the generosity of others.

Qavah Ministries

This ministry to my family had teeth. It was thoughtful, timely, and practical. I heard someone say on the radio once that one of the worst things you can say to a cancer patient is, “Let me know if there is anything I can do.” A far stronger response is simply to do something. Bring a meal, wash their car, mow their lawn, invite their kids to the movies. Whether living with cancer or incarceration, the single greatest need is helplessness. Jesus gave us the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Or put another way, “Do for others what they cannot do for themselves.”

“Do for others what they cannot do for themselves.”

This ministry to my family remained rather organic. No one organized it. There were no strategy meetings. No one voted on the best way to mobilize the ministry. Folks just heard the prompting of the Holy Spirit and acted upon it. But as I looked around at the others incarcerated with me, as I heard their stories of despair and saw the sadness in their eyes, I realized how much God truly blessed me. I also realized what a glorious opportunity I could have to use the platform God has given me to multiply the efforts of those who continue to pour into my family, and to give countless others the chance to minister to inmates and their families.

My pastor and friend, Ron, often says, “Your greatest pain can become your greatest ministry.” As I ponder what to do with my newfound and welcomed freedom, I keep coming back to prison ministry, or more specifically, ministering to the families of inmates. I don’t yet know if God is calling me vocationally to this ministry, but I sense a burden to act on it now. And as with any ministry, the greater blessing awaits those who are willing to give their lives away to others. Greater love has no one than this, that a man would lay his life down for his friends.

One day while in prison, after enduring a particularly grueling day, my wife sent me a message with the subject line “Business Plan.” I was intrigued by the unusual subject, but when I opened the email, my heart broke for her. “Please don’t lose sight of the business plan you were working on for a prison ministry to families. The need for that is GREAT!”

Our former church in Texas is a national leader in children’s ministry, worship, pastoral care, and even hosts a conference every year for pastors from around the country. Our former church in Florida has seen thousands of believers come to Christ, hosts a conference for church planters, and has helped launch numerous churches around the country. But as strong as both these churches are, neither has a ministry that specifically ministers to the families of inmates. Hear me when I say there were dear people from both of these churches who ministered to my family during this season, but it was a personal ministry because of our relationships, not a ministry of the church. How many other great churches fail in their efforts (or have even considered the need) to care for the “widows and orphans” of the incarcerated? The sick? Yes. The hungry? Of course. The lost? Absolutely. Yet the prisoners and their families from their congregations and their communities often live on helplessly. We can change that.

I believe many churches would minister to prisoners if they only knew how. I also think many churches would be shocked to know how many of their members and attenders are directly affected by the incarceration of their friends and family. Some 2.5 million men and women are currently incarcerated in the United States. That’s more than two million households dealing with the incarceration of a family member. If you stretch the concentric circles to include the friends and co-workers of incarcerated individuals, the number of impacted families is staggering. If your church has more than 100 members, the probability is quite high that someone in your church is directly affected by the incarceration of a close friend or family member.

So why are churches so effective at ministries to the infirm and hungry, to the temporary widows and orphans, but woefully inadequate at caring for the imprisoned and their families?

So why are churches so effective at ministries to the infirm and hungry, to the temporary widows and orphans, but woefully inadequate at caring for the imprisoned and their families? It’s partially because our society largely ignores the plight of the incarcerated. There’s a stigma attached to prison that doesn’t affect the hospitalized or homeless. Perhaps there is a perceived lack of innocence, that inmates are getting what they deserve. Even if that’s true (though it’s not true in a startling number of cases), what about their families? Should they be punished? Do the inmates’ children deserve to be without their parent? Do wives and husbands deserve to be without their spouses? And does the Bible not tell us to care for prisoners as though we were in prison with them?

And speaking of husbands and wives, incarceration can be fatal to marriages. I read recently that the divorce rate among couples where one spouse is incarcerated for one year or more is 80 percent for men and close to 100 percent for women. That is staggering. But it’s not surprising. The stress that a “surviving” spouse endures holding the family together during the incarceration of their spouse is unimaginable. Sadly, Pam did not have to imagine it; she lived it. And without the support that she received as the Church (capital C) loved her in very practical ways, statistics say that our marriage would have ended. So when I say these families were a blessing to us, I cannot stress enough how much of a blessing!

But the blessing doesn’t stop there. We miss our own tremendous blessing when we fail to provide for inmates and their families. We can bring them much joy, but as with many paradoxes of the Christian faith, we receive more joy as ministers than even those to whom we minister. Consider the profound truth in Jesus’ statement: “It is better to give than to receive.”

Get Involved

God used the generosity and creativity of others to allow me to serve as his instrument during my time away. While obviously not eliminated, my stress was greatly reduced, and that gave me the freedom to focus on others. And because I was less encumbered by some of the stress and helplessness of caring for my family, I was able to use that energy to minister to others. During my time there, I saw or heard about more than fifty men come to Christ. I saw marriages restored and witnessed lives healed as men discovered their calling in Christ. Imagine the Kingdom impact if more men experienced the grace of Christ through His church!

I once heard that if every church in the U.S. adopted just one orphan, it would eliminate the need for orphanages in our country. I suspect this metric is likewise at least partially true for this country’s prisoners: If every church in America were to adopt the families of the inmates in their church or community, couldn’t we eliminate the sense of helplessness and despair from every prison across the United States?

Let me ask a more personal question. What is your church doing to minister to inmates’ families? Would you like to do more?

Such a ministry is not without obstacles, but the opportunities are worth the effort. I want to help.I want to provide you with an insider’s view of how this ministry can work. I want to use my unpleasant experience to spawn ministries to reach the countless inmates who lack the amazing support structure I experienced. And I want more Christians to experience the joy of showing love to the least of these.

Please understand, though. I’m not asking for your support because I want something from you. I’m asking because I want something for you. As I mentioned early on, Jesus said it’s better to give than to receive. Or as Paul wrote in Philippians 4:17, “I mention this not because I’m requesting a gift, but so that the fruit of your generosity may bring you an abundant reward.” That’s not to say that you should give to get, but I encourage you to give to give. For the sheer joy of giving. And for the blessing you can be to others.

Give of your time.
Give of your talents.
Give of your treasure.

Then watch what God can do!