manila city jail...

We are driving through the city, bumper-to-one-inch-away-bumper, as usual...turning to the right, to the left, in what seems to me to be an impossible maze...finally reaching our destination -- the Manila City Jail. As we approach the entryway, which is only wide enough for our vehicle to squeeze into, I am instructed to put away all my valuables, including my camera, as photography is not allowed on the inside. Lyn informs me that the officials don't want anyone in the outside world knowing how bad the living conditions are for the inmates... Thankfully, my battle with claustrophobia has lessened as the days have passed. Still, however, there is a mental struggle as the gate opens before us and we slowly drive through. I just know, though, that this is an experience I want to have before we leave the Philippines.

We drive into an open-air courtyard-type of area where we get out of the van and leave our things locked inside. We proceed into a walkway off to the side where we all receive the official ink stamp on our arms insuring we will be able to leave the prison once we have finished our meeting. Nervous laughter trickles through the group as some get their Bibles stamped as well.

A variety of smells waft through the air, some pungent enough to make me work to maintain a pleasant facial expression. We pass food being cooked, even flowers and vines growing up and around the concrete walls. I don't see any locked cells...everything is open to the sky. Men are staring wide-eyed as we begin to walk toward the living quarters, some smiling and saying hello, others simply looking. Up ahead is what appears to be some sort of concrete structure, open on both ends, but enclosed on the sides and roof. As we walk through, we see both sides are filled with men lying down in small square openings in the concrete. They seem to me to be no more than 3 or 4 feet wide, but many contain 4 men lying side by side in what looks like concrete coffins stacked ten high... Apparently this is where the prisoners sleep.

As we walk back into the open, more and more men are gathering to watch us pass. Slowly, I become aware of noise somewhere up ahead. With each footstep, it grows. Men have been joining us in our walk along the way, until we all finally reach a flight of narrow, steep concrete stairs. I realize the noise is men singing... One by one, we carefully begin climbing the stairs. The singing gets louder and louder. Finally, I reach out and grasp Monty's hand, and he pulls me up the last stair. I lift my head and look out onto a sea of faces -- men smiling, clapping, dancing, and singing at the tops of their lungs!

The room is open on all sides, with a metal roof, still almost stiflingly hot, but I know in an instant that I am with brothers in Christ...and that right here, in the Manila City Jail, men have found a place of freedom in Jesus that many who call themselves "Christian" never know. Monty and I are both immediately overwhelmed with emotion and can't stop the tears from flowing. Never in my life have I seen men so filled with exuberant expressions of heartfelt praise to God. This is what these men are living for. This is what brings them hope. This is what brings them peace. They have nothing to hide, for they have already lost everything, but their souls have found true freedom. One small old man moves out from the crowd into the opening at the front and begins to -- how can I put this? -- dance a jig! He dances in his own unique fashion, with a smile on his toothless face, expressing the joy he feels in his heart in the most palpable way, slowly fading back into the crowd as the song dies down.

As the team leading the music -- all prisoners who have risen to a place of spiritual leadership under Lyn's tutelage -- begins to lead another song, I look across the room and see a man I noticed when we first walked into the prison. He was a tough, hard-looking younger man, quite muscular in build, with a sharp look in his eye and very little clothing on his body. Frankly, he had frightened me a little... He was one who had walked with us toward the gathering-place, and now, as I noticed him again, I saw his arms raised toward the sky and his mouth opened wide in song. His eyes had a look of utter adoration as he lifted them toward the heavens. I knew I had nothing to fear from this man, my brother...

The first song had been in Tagalog, the native Filipino tongue, but this one was in English, and as they began, I felt a fresh wave of emotion... "This is my desire...to honor you...Lord, with all my heart, I worship you..." Then, as the voices crescendoed to the chorus, I felt my heart beat hard as tears coursed unfettered down my cheeks -- "Lord, I give you my heart, I give you my soul...I live for you alone...every breath that I take, every moment I'm awake...Lord, have your way in me..." Never before or after have I heard anything that rocked me to the core of my being like that did. Maybe that's not how a heavenly, angelic choir sounds, but it sure defines for me what a choir of lost souls who have been found sounds like! I will never forget it...

The church could only meet for about 45 minutes, so as much as I would have enjoyed several more songs, we had to move on quickly. Lyn greeted the men and gave them some words of encouragement, then introduced me. As I rose to sing, I felt my heart in my throat. What did I have to give to these men, captives in a miserable jail, so far from the riches and freedoms we take for granted in America...? Then I felt it -- "Give them your best..." And I began to tell them that we are family; they are my brothers in Jesus, and they have family at a place called LIFEchurch in El Paso, Texas. They are not alone. As I opened my mouth to sing, I suddenly knew -- "This is the greatest audience you will ever have the privilege of singing for!" The looks on the faces of my brothers in that prison as I began singing, "Don't let go... Don't give up...", is a treasure I will hold close to my heart forever. You could have heard a pin drop in that room crowded with men. It was quite a change after all the raucous singing. The gentle, quiet presence of God filled the place and brought peace to weary souls... As soon as the song ended, however, the place erupted with cheers and clapping. Then they stood, and I had the grand privilege of teaching them, "Thank You For Life"!

Lyn introduced Monty, and he began to share a powerful message from the passage about the prodigal son, emphasizing again that we are all connected in God's family, and that he loves us all the same. Our time ended quickly, but the moments we shared were life-changing... Just before we left, several of the men gathered around me to learn "Thank You For Life" -- trying the catch the rhythms and playing the chords on the only guitar they had -- old and out-of-tune! I think it was even missing a string!

A part of my heart will always be there with those men -- held captive physically, but spiritually, flying free. As we left that day, I felt none of the fear and apprehension I had felt when I entered. Instead, I left knowing I had a bunch of new brothers in Jesus that I will see again...if not on this earth, definitely in heaven. And, there will be no end to the singing and dancing then!



c2009 Lorenda Houston