Maggots in the Rice

After Chris's first visit to the prison today I was able to get him still long enough to share about his experience.  He writes:  Today I went to prison for the first time.  Many times as a preacher of the Gospel I have wondered what prison ministry would be like.  I just never imagined doing it in Latin America.  Three chaplains accompanied me to La Urbana Prision.  This prison was the 3rd most dangerous in ALL of Latin America at one time, now it is only the 13th most dangerous. (like wow what a difference, yea?)  Imagine a prison with a capacity of 600, filled with 1,200 inmates.  The scene reminded me of refugee camps in the evening news.  Inmates' housing are tent cities made out of trash bags, sheets, towels, or whatever trash can be found in the cell yard.  But as is the story of coal mines, there is a diamond in the rough.  The three chaplains introduced me to a group of eight inmates.  We met in a dedicated chapel.  We worshipped together, prayed, I preached, and listened to the testimonies of these eight men.  The testimonies of eight inmates of whom which God has called while serving their term, to serve as pastors inside the prison.  Each man is pastoring his own body of believers in the pen.  Each man is also a recent convert to the Gospel while serving his term.  I was brought in specifically to meet these eight men.  They did not ask for money.  They did not ask for favors or to call lawyers.  They simply asked if I could help with theological training because they have had none!  Immediately, I had the response.  It is resources that is at my disposal as the national director for Global University here in Venezuela.  On Monday, July 13th, the first book will be placed in the hands of these 8 men and their 17 deacons for a weekly theology and apologetics training class.  As I told the men of these resources I have available for them some rejoiced, some cried, but all were filled with joy as each one counted his own story of how they had been praying to God to send a missionary into the prison to help them.  After we dismissed in prayer four plates of lunch were brought in for us.  I did not want to rob someone of their lunch, but in this culture the bigger robbery would have been me stealing their blessing by not eating the meal offered to me.  As I ate a plate of pure starchy foods I recounted their testimonies.  As I was shoveling the rice in my mouth, I came to the realization of who was the real missionary.  As I shifted the cooked maggots around in the rice I realized that the Holy Spirit was doing a true indigenous work inside the pen, and that I was just a conduit to strengthen 8 men of God who are doing His work inside a community of 1,200 people surrounded by 20 foot walls.  God's grace is truly amazing.  Will you please pray for what I now called God's "G8" in La Urbana?