Mitch and I grew up in the idyllic setting of boyhood
friendship, living adjacent to each other on small farms, going to school
together, swimming, fishing, hunting, sleeping out, working together and even,
yes, getting into trouble together. Our paths separated after high school, and
while we stayed in touch occasionally, our worlds were far apart. During those
years that we were on different journeys, Mitch got into the shadowy world of
the drug trade, while I chose the path of Christian service and church
ministry. Mitch’s world turned violent and he ended up in prison in the
mid-1980s. Our paths joined again after my wife and I and our sons moved back
to this area from out of state and became involved in local church ministry. I
decided it was time to try to reconnect with Mitch; I had heard he was in state
prison, and so I contacted Mitch’s father about how I might get in touch with
Mitch.
In 1992, I began to visit Mitch on a regular basis. In our
visits we often spend time reminiscing about times past and the fun we had
together. But reminiscing can only last so long; we also talk about the
struggles of prison life and the lessons he has learned over the years. Mitch
came to know Jesus at the beginning of his incarceration, and while it has been
a struggle for him to stay faithful amidst the challenges of living with men, a
lot of whom have nothing to live for, Mitch is steadfast in his faith. He
challenges me many times in my faith and prays for me and my family. Each time
I visit Mitch, I reflect on the verse where Jesus said to his disciples: “I was
in prison and you came to visit me” (Matthew 25:36). I believe that when I
visit Mitch, I am visiting Jesus, and so I often ask Mitch: “What word would
you have for me today?” He usually says something like: “Keep being a good
husband and father,” or “Work hard to keep young folks from coming to a place
like this,” etc.
Another unexpected opportunity that came out of my
relationship with Mitch was the chance to be involved with Mitch’s dad (Sam). I
had actually worked for Sam on his farm when I was a teenager, but little did I
know, at that time in my life, that one day I would have the opportunity to
reap spiritual fruit in Sam’s life. Sam and I met numerous times over the years
I had been visiting Mitch. When Sam was dying of lung cancer several years ago,
I had the blessed opportunity to care for him spiritually. When he came to the
Lord about a week before his death, I was privileged to baptize Sam in his
hospital bed and witness his entrance into the family of God. Then a few days
later, after he died, Sam’s family asked me to conduct his memorial service. I
felt so blessed to have a part in the life of this family that I had become
reunited with.
I visited Mitch last week. I and another old school friend
are the only people who visit Mitch regularly. There are always tears when we
part. I grieve as I leave Mitch each time. I can walk out the door and go back
to my wife, family, work, and friends, while Mitch goes back to his cell. I
guess I grieve over the loss of the years, of the wasted potential and lost
relationships, that characterize Mitch’s life. And yet there is also the joy of
being able to share life with Mitch. The bitter with the sweet - a picture of
life.
Tom Horst
Marriage and Family Therapist
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