Every Friday, I talk with God as I stroll down a windowless yellow hallway, walking over chipped blue lines, revealing years of layered paint on the concrete floor. I say to God things like this -- “I will say whatever you want me to say. Let anything that I have prepared that is not from you, fall away. Guide me by your Holy Spirit. Who am I to go and do this? I really don’t know what I am doing, but please equip me to encourage their hearts and point them toward you, Father.”

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The prayer walk I am describing happens on my way to House 5 at the Hiland Correctional Facility, the women’s jail and prison here in Eagle River. Don’t be surprised if you have never seen it because it is surrounded by trees near the Eagle River Campground.  I have been going on Fridays to teach a Bible study there for about two years now. At first, I went with another ACF member to shadow her study, then I went every-other Friday, and now you will find me there most Friday mornings.  

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On paper, I look well-qualified for this role. Yes, I have a good base of Bible knowledge. Sure, I have been in teaching roles before. Heck, I am even trained as a social worker. But man, do I feel anything but qualified. Almost nothing else in my life has driven me to the feet of Jesus to ask for help like this weekly class. It’s not that I am afraid going into this prison, but it just feels so weighty, like such a high calling. I am entering into such a hard place, with such traumatized and complex women who have endured more than I can even comprehend. What do I know about forgiveness and mercy, suffering and despair? I could write pages and pages about what these women have endured, and yet, they still sing praises to God while watching a tiny computer screen of worship music videos, with hands raised to the Redeemer of the worst things we can imagine. I go week after week, and my need for God’s help to minister in that space never sems to diminish. I pray, as the psalmist did, over and over, “Show me the way I should go.”

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C.S. Lewis once wrote in a letter, “Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.” I find myself asking for God’s help every time (or at least more consistently than other areas of my life) as I drive to Hiland and walk the long hallways to the section of the building where I meet with about 10-15 ladies. Serving in this capacity has really shown a spotlight on how I am not as desperate for the Spirit’s help in all areas of my life. I wrongly think I am mostly good to go on my own. I don’t pray as much as I pick up my kids from school, “Help me see them and encourage them this afternoon,” or preparing for my husband’s arrival home, “Show me how to love and respect him well today.”

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Sometimes we are afraid to say yes to serving because we don’t think we are qualified, but serving in the prison has really helped me to rely on the Lord and use the gifts he has given in increasingly dependent ways. God will equip the called. On the other hand, we can be too proud and confident when we are serving in the area of our gifting. God humbles the proud! I have been humbled, and I have been blessed beyond measure by this outreach group, and I pray that you will find the sweet spot of service where you can use your gifts and be fully reliant on the Lord to help you do the work to which he has called you.

God, you are such an amazing Creator to have not only made all the beautiful natural things that we see, but also each unique individual. You have blessed us each with talents and abilities. May we use them day-by-day for your service. May we heed your callings in the community and at our church to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Make us aware again today how much we need you to do all the things you have called us to do and that all we have is from you. In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.