Setting Captives Free

Being in prison yesterday was quite eye-opening for me.  I've done prison ministry once or twice in North Carolina.  Inmates are fed three hot meals a day, they receive standard clothes, a bed, and an organized laundry service, and they have access to books, running water, TV, sporting equipment, board games, and limited (but at least some) communication with the outside world.
Here in Susu Land it is different.  We walked through a series of heavily guarded gates and checkpoint as expected.  An open sewer drained through the entire prison compound in the middle of the cement ground.  The stench clued me to what we were stepping across as we passed the "women's area" and the "men's area" proceeding to the back of the prison compound.  Razor-wire coiled around the top of the perimeter wall.  We went through a final door into the "youth area."  We passed by a guard in mismatched military fatigues.  In any other world, i might suspect that the inmates had overthrown the real guards and dressed themselves in their clothes.  However, any olive green outfit seems to be acceptable as official military uniform.  Soldiers in the same detachment where digital camo, hunting (Mossy Oak brand) camo, the old standard (Woodland) camo, and plain solid green.  Alas, this knowledge was ironically comforting to me, since it reassured me this was probably a real guard, not an imposter.  Whatever short-experienced "comfort" i just felt was melted by the fact that was the last guard we encountered as we rounded the corner of a few buildings into an area far from the sight (and perhaps hearing) of the wardens.  We were warmly greeted by about 130 young men.  They were socializing around in the yard, taking turns using the restroom behind a curtain in the awful smelling latrine.  Most were half naked, tattooed and scarred.  They didn't look terribly sick, but were definitely skinnier than most people in Susu Land.  I was wearing some Old Navy blue jeans and a quick-dry collared golf shirt.  Bill, Josh, and i stood out like the cream in an Oreo.  These teens were given one meal a day, and i imagine the food pyramid was not consulted when the menu was set.  Most of them have the clothes on their backs, tattered and torn.  One showed me his shorts he was wearing, full of holes.  He had worn the same shorts for four months now.  He didn't own a shirt.
They noticed i had some books in my hand.  Their curiosity overcame their inhibition and asked me what i had brought.  I was swarmed by most of the guys trying to shoulder in and get a peek.  I showed them a handful of Scripture calendars, which quickly got passed around and disappeared in the crowd.  Then a showed them my New Testament in their language.  I announced i'd like to read to them from God's Word.  The quickly ushered the three of us to the only bench in the yard and ordered us to sit down and read.
Bill and Josh prayed to themselves.  I read Mark 5 -the story the man possessed by Legion, but set free by Jesus.  For a while, except for the sound of my voice, you could have heard a pin drop.  Eventually about 30 of them stayed locked in to the story.  Others lost interest and one-by-one trickled away.  At one time about 10 feet away an intense argument broke out, and i thought it was going to turn violent.  The listeners couldn't hear me, so they shushed the fighters.  I continued reading.  When i finished telling the story i asked questions about what they learned.  I asked them why the demons were afraid of Jesus.  The repeated back to me that Jesus was more powerful than the demons.
They had understood.
Then i read Acts 16 -the story of Paul and Silas in the Philippian jail.  I asked them what the people in that jail had to do to be saved.  The young men repeated back that they had to believe in Jesus.
They had understood.
One of the young men begged me for my New Testament.  I gladly gave it to him in exchange for his promise to share it with others.
No, we didn't have an "altar call," but Truth was know that day.  You can't rush into these things here.  Last night, i imagine many of the young men lost sleep pondering about Jesus, the healed man, Paul, Silas, and the jailer.  Lord willing we will return next Wednesday.
Would you pray for us?