A Prison Experience

The gate slammed shut with a sense of finality. His face still stinging from the slaps of his captors, John sat against a cool, back wall. Hours passed and the cell seemed to close in on the man of faith. A guard approached and slid the meager evening meal under the lowest bar. The man used to eating locusts in the wild swallowed the cold stew without difficulty and stood up to pace. His thoughts raced and fear planted a seed.

Prison. And at a time like this? Surely I will be a free man in no time. So many are repenting. Lives being changed. And Jesus. Yes, Jesus. The Son of God. Our Messiah has come, and the world must know! Surely this is no time for prison.

Hours became days and the seed of fear sprouted in his heart. Two of his disciples had visited him daily, offering encouragement and food. Today was different. Their usually upbeat faces and words had become a whisper of warning. Already a scheme was in the works to take his life. The hatred of some would stop short of nothing. They wanted him silenced. Forever.

Prison was taking a toll and John’s strong belief was being tested. His understanding was under fire, and confusion wrapped its strong arms around his torso, gripping him at the core.

“Go to Jesus,” John instructed the men. “Ask him if he truly is the One or if we are to expect another.”

The man of faith. The one sent to prepare the way. The voice in the desert. The man of God. The lover of Jesus, trembled in fear. Every word he had proclaimed so boldly came back to him as he sat in that musty cell. Realizing his life was in danger, his faith trembled as well.

Surely if Jesus is the Messiah, I would not be in prison. This makes no sense. God called me to prepare the way. To call people to repentance and to point them to Him. But I’m trapped in prison. And with a death wish looming over me. Large tears began to fall to the dirt floor. The man of God wept. Bitterly. Between sobs, he managed, I believe you, Father. I know Jesus is the One. He can raise the dead. He can heal the sick. He has freed lives trapped in sin. I’m just so, so confused.

As John sat there, he gave his weakness to God. He offered himself to his faithful Father, and in that moment, something incredible happened. The sweet love of God filled his cell. A faith not his own welled up inside of him. His weeping out of confusion turned to sobs of joy. He remembered how God had asked Abraham to sacrifice his son. How He had allowed Joseph to suffer in prison at the hands of his own brothers. Promises given and then tested. He had allowed such confusing and difficult situations to work out His perfect and beautiful plan. As John recalled the faithfulness of God, He praised Him in the depths of his soul.

The next day, his friends returned with Jesus’ response. One phrase stood out to the prisoner and seemed to breathe life to his crushed soul. “Blessed is he who is not offended because of Me,” Jesus had stated. Trust me, John, He seemed to be saying. My ways are not your ways. My ways don’t always make sense. Sometimes things are beyond difficult. Trust Me, John.

And in the midst of our most confusing and difficult days, He whispers the same to us.