A Life Restored

Last Thursday Polly went back to prison.

Only months ago she was paroled after serving thirty years of a ninety-nine year sentence.  As a youth from east Tennessee, Polly was involved in what she’ll only call “a freak accident” involving her daughter.  The price was a ninety-nine year judgment.

She’s fifty-six now.  She looks every year of it.  Her hair is buzzed close to her scalp.  Her face is firm and, at times, stern.  “Your time doesn’t have to be hard” she told the pre-release class we were speaking to this morning.  But you could tell that her time had been just that–hard.  “I was involved in all kinds of homosexual relationships and things I shouldn’t have been when I was in prison,” she confessed to the women.  “I thought my life was over.  You don’t know what it’s like to have the shame of a ninety-nine year sentence on your back.”  She held the tears back as an inmate handed her some tissue. 

But the tears of regret flowed quickly into tears of joy.  “I just got my evaluation from my boss,” she said.  Polly’s been working in an internship made possible by a non-profit faith-based group called HopeWorks.  She’s completed their thirteen weeks of life-skills training, counseling, and job-skills training.  “He gave me ‘excellent’ on every category,” she beamed.  During her years at the Mark Luttrell Correctional Facility Polly did electrical work.  HopeWorks has helped her put those skills to use on the outside.  “One day,” she predicted, “I’m going to have my own business.”  Next Thursday Polly graduates from HopeWorks.  “I wish every one of you could come to my graduation,” she told the inmates. 

Polly personally knew many of the women in that morning’s pre-release class.  They were cell-mates.  Block mates.  They had served time together.  They called her by name.  They hugged and held her.  They were now where she no longer wanted to be.  And she was exactly where they all wanted to be.  Free.  Productive.  Happy.  Fulfilled.

After Polly told her story to the women, I shared the words of Psalm 126: 

 ¹When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,
   we were like those who dream.
²Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
   and our tongue with shouts of joy;
then they said among the nations,
    “The LORD has done great things for them.”
³The LORD has done great things for us;
   we are glad.

 ⁴Restore our fortunes, O LORD,
   like streams in the Negeb!
⁵ Those who sow in tears
   shall reap with shouts of joy!
⁶He who goes out weeping,
   bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
   bringing his sheaves with him.

The word “restore” is an important word.  When Job experienced that deep-hole to mountain-top experience of losing it all and then gaining it all back the Bible says “The LORD restored the fortunes of Job.”  The word “restore” refers to a turnaround.  It points to a reversal in circumstances. 

In this Psalm, these travelers to Jerusalem  sing about God’s restoring power (Psalm 126 is one of the Psalms of Ascent which the Jews sang as part of their journeys to Jerusalem).  God is the God of the turnaround.  He’s the God of reversals.

“For thirty years of Polly’s life,” I told the inmates, “Polly wore the blue blouses you are all wearing right now.”  The prison uniform.  The blues.  “But today, she’s exchanged the blue blouse for the blue badge.”  The women broke into applause.  All of us who were presenting to the pre-release class wore the blue badge.  The guard at the front desk gives it to you when you enter the prison.  It signifies that you’re just a visitor.  It indicates that you’re only there temporarily.  Everyone who sees it knows you don’t really belong in prison.  Soon, you’ll be handing that badge to the guard.  And you’ll walk out those doors.

For thirty years Polly watched others do that very thing.  She watched others do what she could not do.  Until today.  “I don’t know if I’ll ever see any of you again,” she concluded.  “But I want you to know, that what God did for me, he can do for you.”  “God’s still in the business of restoration,” I told the women.  “Just look at Polly.”

A few minutes later, Polly turned in that blue badge.  She went out those front doors.  Walking as if in a dream.  Mouth filled with laughter.   Once sowing in tears.  Now reaping shouts of joy. 

Nearly eighty percent of men who leave prison eventually return to prison.  We’re not sure what the recidivism rate for women is, but we suspect it’s similarly high.  We’re trying to break that cycle.  Polly’s a good start.  She’s clean.  She committed.  She talented and intelligent.  She’s got some challenges ahead.  But she’s living proof that what God was doing in Psalm 126, he’s still doing today.  God’s still in the business of restoring fortunes.