I would like for you to meet my dear friend Sam. Sam is 9 years old. He likes to play soccer, dance, and do flips. Sam wants to be a doctor when he gets older.
Sam is in prison.
Not a detention center, or a juvenile facility. Prison.
A children’s prison.
Sam did not commit a crime. He did not steal. He did not hurt anyone.
Sam was stubborn.
So his dad drove him hours into the countryside, put him out at M1, and drove away.
A children’s prison.
Sam did not commit a crime. He did not steal. He did not hurt anyone.
Sam was stubborn.
So his dad drove him hours into the countryside, put him out at M1, and drove away.
The hardest day of ministry that we did in Africa was the day we spent with the children of M1 rehabilitation center. It was the only day when we arrived somewhere and the kids did not come running and singing. It was the only day when I questioned what we were doing, why we were there, and if the kids even wanted us there.
I questioned that for about fifteen minutes. I questioned it until we were led, past children in cells, to a common area, in between barred areas where the boys slept. I questioned it until an amazing young man named Aaron stood before our group and began to sing.
I need to pause and tell you it’s hard to express anything I experienced in Africa, it’s nearly impossible to convey to you what I saw and felt that day in that prison, and it is impossible to share with you the joy that filled that dark, barred cell, the moment that those children opened their mouths and began to sing.
I stood there, crammed between kids who have experienced so much injustice and so much hurt in such a short period of time, and I watched them raise their hands and their voices, and as the tears flowed down my face, and my voice choked, I knew that they weren’t alone, they had never been alone a day in their lives, Jesus lives at M1.
I stood there, crammed between kids who have experienced so much injustice and so much hurt in such a short period of time, and I watched them raise their hands and their voices, and as the tears flowed down my face, and my voice choked, I knew that they weren’t alone, they had never been alone a day in their lives, Jesus lives at M1.
I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you how those kids taught me more in an hour than any pastor ever has. I want to tell you that the stories their hearts told me in that moment changed my heart forever. I want to take you back with me to that moment, when a conga line broke out in the middle of worship, and those guarded faces broke out in smiles. I want you to feel the joy of the Lord in that prison and I want for your heart to be changed.
What I want most though, is for you to know.
What I want most though, is for you to know.
I want you to know that there are children in prison. I want you to be bothered, to be affected, to be hurt by that. I want for that knowledge to get inside of you and fester until you have no choice, but to do something about it. Be changed, cause change.
When worship was over, those children who had been too guarded and broken to even look at us, grabbed our hands, and walked us out of that dark cell into the daylight.
For the next 3 hours those prisoners were just children.
They ran, jumped rope, kicked footballs, and tossed frisbee.
They smiled and laughed.
They told us their stories.
When the time came for us to leave that place we took a moment and we prayed with our new friends. I sat down beside my brother Sam, I held his hand, and I prayed over him.
Then I hugged him and I got back on a bus and rode away. I rode away from that prison, but my friend Sam stayed. If his dad doesn’t come back for him, Sam could stay there eight more years.
Sam is one of a 100.
M1 is one of a dozen.
The people that started M1 put the prisons in the middle of the country, at the back of a dirt road, where those kid's small voices could not be heard. Where they would be forgotten.
What those people did not account for is God. They did not account for the furious longing that the God of the universe has for those kids.
“I have loved you with an everlasting love: I have drawn you with lovingkindness. I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt.” – Jeremiah 31:3
I have brothers and sisters who are sleeping behind bars, in a prison, in Uganda at this very moment. They have been abused, they have been abandoned, they have been forsaken and forgotten- by most.
They are not alone.
I know that my Jesus is in that place.
I know my God has not forgotten them.
Neither will I.
Ever.
If you want to learn more about M1, the children there, and how you can help please go to sixtyfeet.org and learn about the amazing organization that is serving these children in these prisons. It really is a story of redemption, and God is all over it and in it.
"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." - Romans 8:18
"He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry. The Lord sets prisoners free." - Psalm 146:7
"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearts, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners." Isaiah 61:1
"Higher than the mountains that I face. Stronger than the power of the grave. Constant through the trial and the change. One thing remains. Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me. On and on and on and on it goes. It overwhelms and satisfies my soul. And I never ever have to be afraid. In death and in life I'm confident and covered by the power of your great love. My debt is paid there's nothing that can separate my heart from your great love."
- Jeremy Riddle
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