Prison Talk

Verbiage, reflections, introspection, I had so much to divulge. In prison, it was just me and God. I began to realize that He was my closest friend. Even in my sinfulness, He listened. He loved me, and loves me, and loves me. I even began to learn to love myself; I found hope in prison talk. See, the guards were disrespectful, other inmates were unhelpful, but God listened. He also graciously replied, to my pleas for mercy, and forgiveness of sins.
woman-praying-1935186__340He even walked in the dungeon of the corners of my mind. He pointed out those cognitive distortions that kept me bound for, oh so long. I started to feel beautiful and valued, just because of our conversations. When He did not speak audibly, I found Him in His word. He called me daughter, beloved, born again, redeemed.
Although I was a harlot, he treated me with tender love and kindness. He actually saw value in me. This investment by God, on my behalf, caused my chronic procrastination to become motivated to no end. Rather than dreading beginning, I couldn’t wait to finish. I began to plan, explore, and dream. I never dreamed before. I thought my current position as prostitute, addict and career criminal was my purpose. To the contrary, during prison talk, God revealed my true reason for being on this earth.

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