Free the captives

The women at the jail were kind, pointing me toward the door, which led me to the elevator, which led me to the first set of bars on the door, which through there led me to the hallway that led to the second set of bars on the door.

The waiting room for visitors was filled with seats that were very reminiscent of pews. I sat there and waiting for him to come, tired and sleepy from having risen at 5:35 and driven from Eunice to the quaint village of St. Martinville, a drive of about an hour and a half. We drove through plowed under sugar cane fields, past fields of what probably were rice and such. Through Breaux Bridge, with its little down town area of shops and a couple restaurants, through and past Bayous and bridges and things.

All the way to the set of bars that swung open at the push of some button, making a bang that signified it was open.

He came, we talked, we prayed together.

It was a morning in which the doors swung open, on hearts and on minds and on life.

It seems to me this morning as I ponder what I've been through in this life I've lived, I am so covered in God's grace that I can't even understand it all. Why He came, why He died for me, FOR ME. For you. For all of us.

As I write this, The Highwaymen are singing on Pandora, "it was down in Louisiana, just about a mile from Texarkana, in those old cotton fields back home." That might have been the first song I ever learned in its entirety. I'm reminded once again of all those decisions on all those years. Each and every one led me to this key board. And it is only by the grace of God that I'm not behind those set of bars that swing closed at the push of some button, making a bang that signified it was closed, closed on freedom, closed on the freshness of free air, closed on what comes next outside those doors.

I believe we, all of us, are given a task. It was no small coincidence that Jesus walked to the scroll and unrolled it to the passage in Isaiah that reads, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

Aren't we all sent?
To proclaim release to the captives.
To proclaim recovering of spiritual sight to the lost and blind?
To let the oppressed go free from their oppressors?

I'm reminded each time I go to the quaint cells in St. Martinville. There are ways to be free, even while captive.

I pray I was able to remind him. I pray the grace given be the grace given.