(22) Journey Through Betrayal: Faith Tested in the Prison of Family Dysfunction

Do you have questions about God? Are you interested in learning about Him? In 2017 I faced many challenges and felt the strain. Oddly, despite these difficulties, I was more at peace than I’d ever been. Do you desire peace? Do you need rest? Listen today and learn how you can begin today, through a saving relationship with Jesus Christ!

TRANSCRIPT

Do you know what it means to be born again? Are you certain that you have eternal life in God?

During the summer of 2017 I was fighting to keep my son and maintain relationships with my family. God would use these events to open my eyes in a whole new way to the things that are important. Discover with me the truth about sin and personal transformation.

We’ll reveal where to get started in having a personal, saving relationship with Jesus and how you can begin today! Listen until the end, you don’t want to miss a word – this is Born Bad!

“I was kicked out of Anthony,” I overheard.

I turned in my chair to see who was speaking. Vikki, one of the ABE students, was talking with the teacher, Ms. Shaibley. It was a Monday afternoon in August 2016 and the school day was nearly over. I was at my desk reading my mail.

Facing a trial for my parental rights next month, I believed the psych evaluation I’d done in 2012 might help me, however I was having trouble requesting a copy from the psych department. I was frustrated and upset. Time was running out.

“What happened?” I heard our teacher, Ms. Shaibley, ask Vikki. She set down her work to give Vikki her full attention.

As Vikki responded the P.A. system overhead burst to life, drowning out the answer. “Two-thirty movement is open! Movement is open!” I watched Ms. Shaibley console Vikki but couldn’t hear what was said.

Vikki was a small person, shorter even than my 5-foot frame. Quite a bit older than me, Vikki came to prison with a third-grade education. I was shocked when she told me she’d left school permanently at age 9.

She lived, or had lived, in the Anthony unit, also known as the parenting unit. Vikki had no young children herself, rather she was a helper for those in the unit who did. When I arrived at prison in 2011, the Anthony unit was giving incarcerated moms the opportunity to have their children spend the weekend with them in prison. The children slept in the same room as their mother, on trundle beds kept under the mother’s bunk.

Not long after my prison orientation, drugs were found in Anthony and kid overnights were suspended. This discovery left everyone dismayed. It was announced that the suspension would last 90 days, however soon drugs were found again. Eventually overnights were abandoned altogether.

The prison readjusted its parenting program to include all-day Saturday visits for children whose moms lived in Anthony. These fun visits often included special holiday parties and special decorations were made by the Anthony unit to celebrate. All women living in Anthony helped, and Vikki was one of these women.

Catching up to Vikki after class I walked beside her as we exited the Core Building. “I heard you mention moving to a new unit,” I began. “What’s going on?”

Vikki shrugged and sighed as she answered, “They did room inspections and found an extra pillowcase in my linens.” She shook her head ruefully, adding, “I didn’t realize that was so serious .”

Linens, or bed sheets and towels, were distributed weekly on “Linen Exchange Day.” Inmates were required to strip their beds and fold all linens neatly in a stack. Wing by wing each unit would call women to the day room to receive new, clean linens.

Vikki, like many women, had probably kept extra linens so she could wash them in her preferred brand of detergent, disliking the harsh industrial smelling soap used by the DOC. One could receive permission to do this, but most women didn’t ask.

Vikki’s comment drew me up short. I’d begun working to identify sinful behavior in my life. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be, so I asked God to show me my sins.

Now I thought of my own linens. While I did not have extra sheets or towels, I was keeping an extra blanket and pillow. I’d gained the extra blanket from a past roommate who had permission for it. She gave it to me when she went home. Unlike the blanket, I had stolen the extra pillow right out from under a guard’s nose.

I recall my theft clearly. I was sitting in the dayroom and noticed a pile of pillows and a bag next to the guard desk. “What’s all of that?” I asked someone near me.

“Missy is moving,” was the reply.

“Why does she have so many pillows?” I asked and was told Missy had M.S. My own pillow was neither plump nor soft. ‘I could use another one, a better one!’ I thought.

Storing up courage I quickly made my move. Walking past the pile I bent and lifted a pillow on the way to my room. I’d kept the pillow and extra blanket ev...