“I have been all things unholy. If God can work through me,

he can work through anyone.” ~St. Francis of Assisi

 

Francis of Assisi was a self-proclaimed “wild child.” So is Anthony, a prisoner in Indiana.

Unlike Francis of Assisi, from his earliest memories, Anthony was not well cared for or loved properly by his parents. From a very young age, he suffered abuses, neglect, abandonment and the impacts of poverty. From his teenage years and beyond, he entered a life of crime riddled by violent acts and substance abuse.

Here is Anthony’s reflection on the road he’s traveled from those darkest of days:

“Until I found God, I thought I was a total psychopath because of all the dirt I’ve done. I was able to do without any feeling whatsoever. Today, I’m remorseful. Today, I can feel. Today, I love and care. I’ve gone from victim to survivor to victor – Thanks to God! I’ve always felt God’s presence in my life but was so stubborn and calloused. I would never acknowledge Him. There is no other explanation about how I’ve come out of some of the situations I’ve been in other than Providence.

I’ve reached a turning point in my life. It was time for me to get honest with self, to forgive others and forgive myself. Letting go of all the hurt, hate and resentments. The horrible and evil I’ve received and released needed to be put to rest if I was to heal and change my life. I’ve run from my problems my whole life. I’m a professional at escape and evade aside from the Lord’s protecting arms around me helping me to survive. Trust me, all the dirt I’ve done, I should either be in prison for life or dead. I can’t count on my fingers how many times I’ve been pronounced dead from herion overdose. All I can say is if God has a plan for a guy like me, then please never give up on yourself because He has a plan for you as well.

I feel the importance of being up front and straightforward to anyone considering Christianity. It is the way, the truth and the light, plus a beautiful thing. It’s worth the effort to stand firm in our faith. Knowing, is a huge advantage, that goodwill always prevails and no matter how hard it gets, I smile in the face of evil because I know I’m on the winning team.

Today, I let go and let God. Today, I pray for these people who’ve hurt me. Today, I put pen to paper to share a 41-year journey that wasn’t always fair in hopes someone, somewhere can relate and find the same peace I’ve found. Realize you’re not alone, that anything is possible with God and with good friends. I extend my hand of friendship to you, whoever and wherever you are in your own journey. Don’t give up, it’s only just begun. You are loved.“

 

A member of our Prison Ministry Network, Sue Clones, recently shared Anthony’s story with us. She and Anthony have been pen pals for four years. The excerpts from Anthony’s memoir are shared by Dismas Ministry to shine a light on one prisoner’s journey and his renewed hope for the present – and the future.

Pen pals help prisoners stay aware of the world outside of prison, particularly the area where they resided. Through letter writing, individuals “outside” show compassion, caring and understanding and help improve the inmate’s self-esteem. These inmates often feel alone and forgotten, and inspiring words of comfort from a trusted friend fill them with hope. To learn more about becoming a pen pal to a prisoner, please contact the Order of Malta – Federal Association in Washington, DC, at https://www.orderofmaltafederal.org/prison-ministry or email: [email protected]

 

The artwork in this post is original work created by Anthony M.

 

 

Written by Kate Nava, Vice President, Dismas Ministry Board of Directors 

I’m Mary Kate Nava, Dismas Board Member. I’m recently connected with the Roman Catholic Diocese of Laredo, Texas, where Bishop James A. Tamayo’s team directed our collaboration with Deacon and Prison Minister Enrique Peñuñuri.

I accompanied Deacon Enrique who routinely delivers God’s Word in lecture and prayer sessions for incarcerated men and women across Laredo, the third largest city on the US-Mexico border.

With appropriate clearances in place, we visited groups of inmates at La Salle County Regional Detention Center in Encinal, Texas, and the Webb County Detention Center in Laredo.

I reminded my unsettled self of Paul Claudel’s insight: “Lent is meant to be the springtime of our hearts. The season when snow melts, sap runs, and new life springs up from the barren ground.”

Our first stop was the La Salle Regional Center for women. After passing security, we were escorted to an empty multi-purpose room where a simple preparation took place. We arranged chairs in rows at the appropriate separation distances, and at the front of the room, a folding table with a white cloth and simple crucifix was centered. Women inmates of all ages were escorted into the now-less-stark, cinderblock room.  A deafening slam of the steel door locked us together with an astute guard and with God, which suddenly warmed the space with holiness.

Deacon Enrique opened with a blessing, and his words paralleled Psalm 19. He reminded the women that the Word of God is directed to each one of them as His daughters. Pointing at the cinderblock wall, he suggested each block is akin to life and the stages therein. One block is birth, then youth, perhaps marriage and the blessing of children, work or profession, friendships, family, and freedom. “And one block, is this place,” he suggested. “God has directed you to use this time you’ve been assigned to come closer to Him. Take and embrace without distraction the possibilities and realities of His goodness from this temporary time. Do this in lieu of counting the days. Participate in God’s way and receive His generous gifts and virtues.”

In closing, we prayed the words our Savior gave us: the Lord’s Prayer. My right hand automatically rose to hold that of my neighboring seatmate. The guard, following policy, shook her head toward me, indicating No.

Time was up; the women arose and seamlessly fell into queue. Many had a lovely glow, and others appeared calm or contrite. Clearly, “New life springs up from the barren ground.”

Our second visit took a similar format with male inmates at the Webb County Detention Center in Laredo. (This unit is operated by CoreCivic, a processing center for Immigration ICE.) The men arrived with actual eagerness. Deacon Enrique urged the men to become followers of God during this time. He strongly discouraged “labeling” any fellow inmate as an enemy, and to erase and abandon the “eye for an eye…tooth for a tooth” approach. “If a fellow is angry or aggressive toward you or others, instead of watching TV, or napping, invest your time in taking interest in him.” He gave some examples, starting with “you seem very sad or mad. What’s going on? We have plenty of time to talk about what you’re feeling or going through.” Other approaches to the most aggressive can start with: “Matthew, how did you get to be so great at basketball? Draw out your brothers. Assure them that God knows each of them. Have no enemies nor fall to the level of labeling your brothers. In becoming amigos, in this scenario, one truly becomes a genuine Disciple of Christ.”

Once more, we wrapped up with a prayer and the prisoners in their bright orange uniforms fell into queue. This time I observed the majority had smiles and even a little more “spring” in their steps.

This Lenten Season, new life indeed is springing up from barren ground.

Kate Nava is a Dismas Ministry board member based near Dallas, Texas. Born and raised in Philadelphia, she holds a bachelor’s degree in business from the University of Oregon and a master’s in business administration from Notre Dame de Namur University in California. Kate’s career path included work in the airline industry and higher education. A devout Catholic, Kate lives her faith through loving service to family, friends, and neighbors in need in her community.