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God Alone Can Fill The Hole!
By Richard, Michigan

I am currently incarcerated here in Michigan for violating my parole and am writing to enquire about receiving some Catholic literature.

I was baptized a Catholic at the age of four and attended parochial school for only half a year because my family was unable to afford the tuition. Now my family is fallen away from the church. Even though my grandmother told me about the Ten Commandments and how Jesus died for my sins, I never really was taught what to believe as a Catholic. Needless to say, I’ve always felt an emptiness in my life that I’ve tried to fill with all the wrong things—drugs, alcohol, and women—which has gotten me here. Prison.

In a drugged state one morning twelve years ago, I received an answer to prayer. I was thinking of committing suicide until I looked over and saw the picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus hanging beside my baptismal certificate. Right then and there I dropped to my knees and started crying and talking to Jesus, pleading for his help.

Less than a year later, I was arrested for giving an associate a ride in which he ended up committing an armed robbery. My license plate number was seen and I was charged but only received a two-to-fifteen year sentence, as I was only an accomplice after the fact. I’m not justifying myself because I was in the wrong by associating with such people. However, being locked-up off and on for the past eleven years has most likely saved my life because of my previous drug use and the accompanying lifestyle I was living.

Now, at the age of thirty and after trying everything else to fill the emptiness I’ve always felt within me, I have finally realized that God, and God alone, is the only thing that can ever fill the hole. So if you could assist me with any literature to help me seek a better, clearer, and deeper knowledge and understanding what I need to know as a Catholic, I will be deeply indebted to you all.

God Has Not Let This Place Destroy Me!
By Tammy, Indiana

I wake up this beautiful God-filled morning, and I begin to count my blessings. Looking out the window, I see the trees that are so green and billowy. I smile when I think that small spindly plants became these wondrous, marvelous trees. Dandelions and puffballs greet my eyes and once again I’m smiling: God’s beauty in one luxurious blanket. I turn away from my window to start my day. The usual commotion awakens the suppressed feelings inside me. Women are yelling, cursing, and fighting over the last remaining shower stall. This prison is the stepping stone to the devil’s playground.

I try to forget the bars on the windows as I look out, and I try to block out the arguing and cursing. But I can’t fight the emotions that flood my being when I close my eyes and think about my family. My loved ones. The ones that I hurt and humiliated because of my selfishness. As I ponder my thoughts, I am ashamed and embarrassed by my actions. The worst part of this whole prison ordeal is the shame I carry on my shoulders, and the constant ache I have for being away from the very people who love me the most. This is not the life I want for myself.

I go to my Lord as a crippled child carrying a cross with a huge block of wood on each side. On the one side, boiling like a bowl of hot tar, are the lies, deceit, the gossiping, the cursing, the cheating, and the pain. On the other side, smelling like a sweet pot of gardenias, shining like the brightest sun, are my family, my friends, my new life, my Bible. I walk up to Christ and lay down my burden, my cross. He takes it without even asking any questions or looking up at me. He points to his gleaming white sheets on a glorious blanket of clouds as I lay down my tired self. He guards me and watches over me as I sleep the most peaceful sleep I’ve had for years. As I awaken he takes my hand and he leads me to the pot of gardenias. I pick it up and it is so light and easy to carry. The dreaded tarry pot is gone. God took it and he destroyed it for me.

This is what this ugly prison has done for me—brought me to my Master. He has taken away the garbage I no longer want. God has not let this place destroy me. He has taken something monstrous and turned it into something so beautiful. I still have a lot of questions: Why? How much longer? When, my Lord? But I have given God full control over my life and he leads the way. This will be done in his time and with his will. As long as I keep my gaze upon his face, I’ll be just great!

As I look through the window, I see the gorgeous trees, the lovely green grass and the magnificent blooming flowers. I don’t even notice the bars that bind the windows.

I No Longer Blame God!
By Tom, Massachusetts

I’ve been a Christian all my life. But even though I was raised as a Catholic, I have never had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, and because of that, my religion, or any religion for that matter, made no sense to me.

I remember as a child sitting in church and listening to the priest say the Mass. While looking up at the crucifix, I saw Jesus on the cross his outstretched arms and pain- stricken face calling out to me, but I did not understand. As a teenager I would ask questions of other religious leaders, which only confused me more. As a result, I walked away from my faith.

I then turned to drugs and alcohol to try and fill that void and to cope with a history of child abuse, a life of poverty, and an emerging sexuality that I did not comprehend and could not accept.

Twenty years later, after a failed marriage and attempted suicide, I find myself behind bars. I cannot recall the number of times I tried to blame God for what was happening to me, or cursed him for seemingly turning his back on me for all those years. I mean, how could he love me, or ever forgive me for the things I have done, or the man I had become?

Since my incarceration began, I have experienced what I have been searching for all of my life—a personal relationship with God. As a result, my whole outlook on life has changed, and it’s as if I’ve been reborn. I no longer blame God, or anyone else for the poor choices and bad decisions I have made, but accept responsibility for my own actions. I have realized, like the Prodigal Son, that my Father has been waiting for me all this time with open arms for me to return.

This transformation could not have been possible without the saving graces, endless mercies, unceasing love, and unlimited forgiveness of my Lord, Jesus Christ. Yet he has been helped tremendously through our prison chaplain, Deacon Gary, and his wife, Betty. They distribute the publications your organization has so generously donated. The Word Among Us gives me and my fellow Christian brothers, the daily guidance and inspiration we desperately need to assist us as we grow into the men Jesus wants us to be. We are not all Catholic, but we all benefit and are striving to fulfill the calling to be sons of God.

This year I have had the unique opportunity to reflect upon and contemplate the true meaning of Christmas. St. Paul writes, “Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the worst” (1 Timothy 1:15). St. John writes, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). This Christmas that light, which is Jesus Christ himself, has been born inside of me, and has overcome the darkness that was once my life.

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