The Open House

I grappled with my cell phone camera as I tried to take a picture of my son driving his car. On our way to the college’s open house. The college he chose to go to. As dark clouds loomed over the distant mountains, I was able to capture a silhouette of my son’s familiar physique and was contented though a little dark the photo seemed.

The parking lots were half-full, expected as it was on a weekend and some regular classes were not open. There was a throng of parents with excited would-be freshmen already crossing the intersection from the marked parking lot for those wanting to explore this college’s programs. Like the three of us.

A mixed emotion started to grow in my heart as a mother. Concerned for even the littlest details. For who, as a loving parent, would never want the “best” for their children? My child that soon would be driving farther distances and would continue to advance his knowledge. Apart from what my husband and I shared and continue to share.

The atmosphere from everyone working there was very friendly and welcoming. The anxiety from that “motherly concern” of mine was slowly being replaced minute by minute with very informative lecture about the degree my son wanted to pursue and the appearance of the campus itself. It felt as if I was the student who would go here to study that I got excited myself as I observed the convenience of how near the  Student Services, the bookstore, the campus store, and the different little restaurants and coffee shop were to the building where he would go as Fall Semester starts this year.

My son…our little baby then…was not a baby anymore but a man. Ready to explore and be challenged. Yet, as a concerned parent, aware of all challenges this life would offer. There would be moments of triumphs. There would also be moments of defeat. There would be moments of joy and laughter. But there would also be moments of sadness and tears. This life, like a labyrinth…where each person’s goal would be to pursue “true happiness”. His path definitely would be changing course.

We stood for a moment…Out in the sun that came out from hiding from the dark clouds that were blown away suddenly by chilly winds. We marveled at the campus’ beauty. Of how diverse the population was. Like them, I knew my son would have to find his happiness to fulfill his life’s goals. But with uncertainties. At times.

After having a great lunch from our favorite burger joint, we headed home. Grateful that we attended the Open House this morning. Grateful that despite the uncertainties and all the labyrinths of life, my son could continue to move on because we all knew, thanks be to God, that it wasn’t about seeing things BY SIGHT that would help him find that “true happiness”…It was SEEING BY FAITH. No matter what challenges would come, only by God’s grace my son could accomplish his endeavors. For none could comfort and strengthen and help one to endure…but God…And Him alone…

“Don’t forget to say ‘Thank You Lord’,” I reminded my son as I took a sip of the cold drink I still held in my hand. 

“Thank You, Lord,” he uttered under his breath as he tried to concentrate with the pile of cars driving on the busy road.

Yes…Faith…That’s what matters…For where can one go but under His wings to feel safe and fearless?

“Thank You, Lord!”

“For giving us the opportunity to go to the college’s Open House…But most of all for Your Open Arms…Ready to welcome us when we are wounded, puzzled, weak or broken…”

The Shy Inmate

“His left side of his face is drooping!” exclaimed one nurse last night as she saw the young, male inmate who requested to be seen by the staff for his complaint of possible drug allergy.

The other male nurse, who initially accepted the phone call from the unit was still looking at his status in the glowing computer monitor and as he clicked on his booking photo, he yelled, “Oh! Don’t be alarmed guys! His face was like that already!”

I stole a glance from where this nurse was and with the enlarged photo, I saw there was no difference to the soggy cheek on the left side of his face.

As I tried to get the medical chart, the other two nurses were already surrounding him, asking him a lot of questions. He seemed shy. Clear, dark skin despite the droopiness. His words were limited as his eyes tried to maintain contact back and forth, aside from the two nurses, then, with the prying eyes of the Infirmary Deputy. He must have felt embarrassment. From all of those curious eyes. From those curious ears.

“I got it, you guys!” I volunteered to the other two nurses as I went to work for 4 hours just to help out the night crew, knowing how short they were. They had been asking me to come in whatever shifts I wanted.

“Are you sure?” asked the male nurse.

“Yeah! You’d be going home soon! It’s my turn!”

The whole time, the male inmate sat quietly. Without any movement. His ears widely open. But his mouth was shut tight. 

As my co-workers went back inside the Clinic, he noticed…It was down to just him and I. He took a deep breath. I started asking him probing questions about his symptoms. He said it was his first time to take those pills for his Seizure. He felt itching on his left foot. Then, some burning all over. I didn’t see any rash. He was not having trouble breathing. 

“Sorry, Ma’am…” he uttered…

“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” he calmly added as he bowed his head and looked down on the floor.

“Don’t apologize…You’re not bothering us. That’s why we’re here 24 hours because anything can happen anytime. There is no silly symptom. I might not see a rash now but if anything worse occurs later, you’re welcome to complain and come back,” I reassured.

His face became more uneven as he tried to give me a smile. He started talking about his droopiness on his cheek. He was shot when he was 9 years old that hit that nerve and paralyzed that side of his face. He said he was lucky. That he was still able to see, eat, and talk. He appeared more comfortable as I watched the calm rise and fall of his breathing. The redness on his face went away. I knew…It was not the allergy. It was him being shy and being intimidated by so many staff when he first walked in.

I told him that I still would put him to see the doctor in the morning to make sure the new medications were not causing any problem. Or if the order needed to be changed. He thanked me as he got up and slowly went back to the long hallway that led to his unit.

How it related to one’s journey…Any weaknesses should never stop one from complaining or by praying. There is no circumstance that should prevent one from praying as a follower of Christ. If there are any distractions, may one learn to ask by faith for His grace to drive those cares away.  Not only difficult circumstances, but also prayers drive away the spiritual enemies. If one doesn’t know what and how to pray, that can also be brought to God:

Once Jesus was in a certain place praying. As he finished, one of his disciples came to him and said, "Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples." – Luke 11:1 (NLT)

The Loud Inmate Worker

But when you give to someone in need, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.

– Matthew 6:3 (NLT)

He surely was a different Inmate Worker assigned now to work and help out inside the Infirmary. Dressed up in the usual blue uniform, no one could miss his shadow always lurking on the far end of the Clinic. By the table. Where he and the other previous ones usually worked. He was much taller. But creepy. Always staring at each nurse that walked in and out of the main door. His ears, one could tell always listening to all conversations. Some staff was careful. Some were not as if he was invisible. 

I chose to always be careful when he would be around at the wee hours of the morning when he would start his shift. For some unknown reasons, he always caught my attention even if he wasn’t staring at me. He would come into the Clinic and would empty the trash cans. Except. I noticed the difference. The previous ones always walked in quietly after asking for permission. Working with mouth closed and not asking any of us, those ones would just assess each trash can and if full, automatically, would empty and then with each plastic liner replaced. 

Not this guy. He surely picked up and returned the trash cans with a loud noise. Asking whoever was sitting on each computer station if their trash can was full or not so he could empty them. Even if the person happened to not be sitting by the trash can he wanted to change. As his hands picked up the gray, metal cans, his eyes looked around as if he wanted to make sure that everyone knew he was doing a great job.

“Thank you for picking up our trash!” I commented.

He didn’t respond. Just the usual creepy stare and then a smirk. Not like those previous ones who would even bow their heads as if I didn’t need to say thank you to their effort.

“You’re welcome, Ma’am,” was the usual answer with a big, warm smile.

As the last trash can was picked up and a loud bang created, he went back to the far end of the hallway. By the table. Staring again at everyone who walked in and out the door. 

“Deputy!” he yelled.

“I’m done cleaning the trash cans. You want me to do anything else?” he loudly asked as his big voice vibrated all over the hallway.

“Hmmm….Not at this time,” the Deputy politely replied.

Those previous ones? I never heard them asked the Deputy that loud. Always in almost a whisper-like volume. Without me hearing anything, I would see them mopping the floors or opening new medical charts if done with emptying the trash cans.

Often, whenever I heard this huge Inmate Worker speaking loudly as if he was wanting to be visible among staff, I felt like he wanted his work to be known. True. He was a big help. But there was also a reason behind him working. It was not for his service to be praised and recognized. It was for him to change his heart. Toward good. Less vain. No outward show when it came to his duties. Taking the least notice of his own, good deeds…

Give your gifts in private, and your Father, who sees everything, will reward you. – Matthew 6:4 (NLT)

The Despised Rapist

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ 

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

- Luke 18:9-14 (NIV)

This young male, newly-booked prisoner was quick to answer me when I asked him if he wanted to hurt himself (which the unit advised us prior to his arrival at the Clinic).

“Yes, I am,” maintaining his eye contact with mine through the thick, glass partition window as our Infirmary Deputy sat watching him. He looked like his hygiene was good. He answered appropriately. He looked like he was well-nourished. I didn’t see any other obvious symptoms except when I looked into those brown eyes, I knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

The secretary and I were trying to find his medical screen so we could open a chart. I was sure that Intake Nurse should have opened one if he claimed that he had mental health problem the moment he walked into the Booking area of the jail. But the Intake Nurse did not remember anything about him. There was no chart, affirming my “gut feeling” that he just complained that morning.

As I was about to print some medical labels, I overheard the deputy who escorted him and the incoming Intake Nurse for the day shift talking with him. Sure enough, with eye contact that couldn’t outlast ours by then, he started shaking a little bit, more nervous as he admitted that he got threatened by his cellmates in the unit that they would beat him up and even kill him.

“Why? What’s your charge?” asked the deputy.

He paused. He didn’t want to say anything, I felt because of embarrassment with regards to his answer. A slow minute passed by as we all stood in front of him awaiting for his answer that would help us in return whether I would put him on Suicide Watch or not.

He took a deep breath as he fell on the chair and whispered, “ Rape and Sodomy…”

I let the deputy and the Intake Nurse talked to him that going suicidal was not the answer. After being evaluated by the Mental Health Doctor, he would surely be put back into the same unit. Same cell. Because it was more of housing issue, the deputy went ahead and took him back to Intake so he could be re-housed. I saw his face lit up a bit as he walked slowly, his wrists remained cuffed behind his back.

“Go figure!” the Infirmary Deputy stated.

“Those others were probably thieves, murderers and substance abusers yet there they were, ready to kill this man because they wouldn’t accept the fact that he raped someone else. They hated that crime yet they also committed their own crimes…”

I just remained silent. Working for 13 years in the prison, I learned about that and never understood at the beginning of such behavior. But when I read more about God’s truth, I knew He was right! 

That we, humans, are quick to trust in ourselves and think how righteous we are! And how we despise others! When in reality, it is only God Who can help us be righteous. No one can enter God’s Kingdom if he is full of himself. One needs to come to God with humility and trust.

I hardly see improvement from the lives of these incarcerated individuals. Not until they recognize that each of them has committed crimes, and that in truth, there is really no one better than the other. The fact is they have all broken the laws.

For it is only by recognizing one’s sins and depending on God’s mercy (by acknowledging what Jesus has done on the cross to save humanity), one can enter His Kingdom. 

Not by one’s own merit…