It took quite a while to get to. Cebu City's Jails are extremely high up in the mountains and the road twists and turns while climbing at an almost impossible steepness. It is the sort of steep that would simply not be drivable in Canada with icy roads.
We were going to the women's prison for a ministry called Narcotics Anonymous which actually is a group for women with all kinds of addictions to gather together for support. Apparently the women's jail houses between 150 and 200 ladies. The men's holds much more than 2,000.
Before we left our van, Pastor Dave, the leader of this ministry asked us each to say what word we would be bringing with us today. Someone said acceptance, comfort, joy. My word was friendship.
It had started to rain as we got to the top of the mountain, so we had to run from the van to the main gate. A guard let us through there, and then we ran to the next check point where we got a stamp. Then we ran to the main building and got signed in.
I've never been to a jail before, in the Philippines or elsewhere. My entire knowledge base came from movies, and the word jail conjured up images of sullen, angry convicts in orange jumpsuits, ready at any minute to find a way to escape.
As I stood in line waiting to sign in, I looked around me. We were in a busy room with lots of people. But the only thing that was different from any other room full of women was that everyone wore yellow t-shirts of various styles and shades. Otherwise, their faces were bright and everyone I looked at smiled at me. I couldn't help but be surprised. My first impression of this jail was that amid the dozens of people around me, there was no one that fit the description I had been entertaining.
We gathered around in a big group outside, with maybe 30 women. We went in a circle and shared our names, and then one by one the women shared what they were learning or feeling, or what they needed to confess.
Afterwards I chatted with several of the women. I couldn't get over how sweet they were. They were SO lovely, I simply couldn't picture any of them doing anything that would place them in prison! It made me realize that although they are clearly not without fault, most people in prison simply have come from very difficult, challenging circumstances but at heart are really good people.
One girl I talked to was five months pregnant. She was worried because she received no prenatal care in prison. I desperately wished I had a fetal heart rate monitor with me, and could do a quick check-up. Who knows, maybe this is a ministry for the future. I had such a lovely conversation with her, half Cebuano, half English. She was taking high-school in the prison, and was also learning how to cook. She introduced me to her best friend. They both had children whom they have not seen in many months.
Much of the conversation went back to what happens when you get "outside." Life inside the prison is one thing; it becomes routine, and in some ways, it is easy. Going outside is difficult because suddenly you have to look after all your own needs, and somehow stay away from the temptations that brought you to jail in the first place.
Pastor Dave told us after that the prisoners often told him the hardest part of the day for them way the half hour before they fell asleep. The rest of the day is busy and filled with conversation, but at night you are alone with your thoughts.
As you fall asleep tonight, pray for these women that the Lord will be their strength and their comfort and that they will turn to Him for help.
We were going to the women's prison for a ministry called Narcotics Anonymous which actually is a group for women with all kinds of addictions to gather together for support. Apparently the women's jail houses between 150 and 200 ladies. The men's holds much more than 2,000.
Before we left our van, Pastor Dave, the leader of this ministry asked us each to say what word we would be bringing with us today. Someone said acceptance, comfort, joy. My word was friendship.
It had started to rain as we got to the top of the mountain, so we had to run from the van to the main gate. A guard let us through there, and then we ran to the next check point where we got a stamp. Then we ran to the main building and got signed in.
I've never been to a jail before, in the Philippines or elsewhere. My entire knowledge base came from movies, and the word jail conjured up images of sullen, angry convicts in orange jumpsuits, ready at any minute to find a way to escape.
As I stood in line waiting to sign in, I looked around me. We were in a busy room with lots of people. But the only thing that was different from any other room full of women was that everyone wore yellow t-shirts of various styles and shades. Otherwise, their faces were bright and everyone I looked at smiled at me. I couldn't help but be surprised. My first impression of this jail was that amid the dozens of people around me, there was no one that fit the description I had been entertaining.
We gathered around in a big group outside, with maybe 30 women. We went in a circle and shared our names, and then one by one the women shared what they were learning or feeling, or what they needed to confess.
Afterwards I chatted with several of the women. I couldn't get over how sweet they were. They were SO lovely, I simply couldn't picture any of them doing anything that would place them in prison! It made me realize that although they are clearly not without fault, most people in prison simply have come from very difficult, challenging circumstances but at heart are really good people.
One girl I talked to was five months pregnant. She was worried because she received no prenatal care in prison. I desperately wished I had a fetal heart rate monitor with me, and could do a quick check-up. Who knows, maybe this is a ministry for the future. I had such a lovely conversation with her, half Cebuano, half English. She was taking high-school in the prison, and was also learning how to cook. She introduced me to her best friend. They both had children whom they have not seen in many months.
Much of the conversation went back to what happens when you get "outside." Life inside the prison is one thing; it becomes routine, and in some ways, it is easy. Going outside is difficult because suddenly you have to look after all your own needs, and somehow stay away from the temptations that brought you to jail in the first place.
Pastor Dave told us after that the prisoners often told him the hardest part of the day for them way the half hour before they fell asleep. The rest of the day is busy and filled with conversation, but at night you are alone with your thoughts.
As you fall asleep tonight, pray for these women that the Lord will be their strength and their comfort and that they will turn to Him for help.
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