Roger darkness to light

Roger grew up on the rough side of Milwaukee, in a troubled neighborhood that was otherwise known as “the hood”. In his early teens he joined in with a tough trouble making crowd, which was the path followed many from the inner city, as it was believed to be the single path of survival for a young black man. At seventeen he was involved in a robbery that resulted in the death of an elderly man.

When Roger joined the class I was teaching as a volunteer at Oakhill Correctional Prison in Oregon, Wisconsin he had served 33 years on a life sentence for murder. In his coaching request form he wanted to rewrite the painful tape in his mind that played over and over regarding the deaths of his mother, father, older sister and two nephews who had died while he was incarcerated. He felt guilt because he could not attend their funerals.

As we sat there quietly in our first one-on-one session I asked him to close his eyes as part of the process to find peace over the deaths of his family members. After closing his eyes for a moment, he peaked at me out of the corner his eye and said, “you’re not going to hit me are you?” I was stunned: he was really afraid. He had survived in prison for all this time and yet he was afraid. Of me! He wasn’t a large man, but he was larger than I (I’m 5’5”), and he was strong and in excellent shape. It had not even occurred to me to be afraid of him. I almost broke down and cried right there. This is what the illusion of fear does to all of us. After I assured him I wasn’t planning to hit him, the Holy Spirit poured in as we joined to rewrite the perception in his mind (really my mind) that was leading to suffering over the loss of his family members.

On the way out of class one day he expressed his anger and frustration as the parole board had again denied his request for parole. He was livid. I looked him right strait in the eye and said, “You are a good man” and meant it. Then I thought, what made me say that?” That comment could only have come from the Holy Spirit, an inner knowing of truth. John went still and peaceful. My ego questioned, yet what a lesson for my mind. The light just poured through it all.

All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.
― Francis of Assisi, The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi

When we met one-on-one later that week he expressed his anger and frustration again over the parole board. I heard in my mind to say “Roger, they can’t let you out of prison until you are free from the anger and frustration.” I was momentarily afraid to say it, yet it felt guided to say it anyway. He replied that he understood that there was something he needed to look at in order to have more peace about whether he continued to be in prison or not.

I asked him if he would like to pray with me for wisdom on this. The light that had been placed in my hands came to mind. It felt right somehow to extend my hands cupped, holding light and asking Roger to extend his hands holding light so that our hands could join in shared light. I’ll never forget looking down at the beauty of our hands joined together and the incredible feeling of trust. I suggested that in that shared light he could place whatever thoughts or emotions he was feeling. We paused in a moment of silence. Within a minute or two I asked him what had happened. He said he was peace about the parole board and that the anger had melted away. He said he would be free when it was time to be free and that he would make the best that he could of the time he was spending in prison. The spirit and wisdom that flowed from this man was inspiring.

What stunned me, (among many things about him) was his relationship with his daughter. She was born while he was in incarcerated, yet he had maintained a positive relationship with her for over thirty years. She had developed a career and he encouraged and blessed her every decision, even though he often didn’t understand the decisions she needed to make. He said, “I don’t know how to be a father, or what a father does.” I said, Roger, what more can a father be than to offer only love and non-judgmental support for his daughter as you have for her?” He was surprised. It had never occurred to him that this could be of value, beyond the concept of what he thought a “father” is. The precious, generous gift he had extended to her and himself was unrecognized.

The innocence and beauty of this man is extraordinary. I learned much about kindness and willingness to learn from getting to know Roger.  What a gift to my peace of mind.  Roger was sent by the Holy Spirit. He is a testament to what Jesus says in the course – we will never know the all the gifts we lay upon our brothers. Perhaps he will never know the gift of forgiveness he bestowed upon me. Amen.

In his request for coaching he wrote: “I’d like to feel good, grateful, joyful, pleased, thankful because of what Jesus Christ did for all of us.” On the back of the form he typed the following:

Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes – who are they, and where did they come from?” I answered, “Sir, you know.” And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore, “They are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple: and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat upon them, nor any scorching heat.

I thank you for the blessed invitation to the temple, Roger. Jesus reminds me again that this love and gratitude is to be found with every brother. How precious is this? Knowing this, how could I not choose to be a happy learner and look for these experiences at every opportunity?

You are so beautiful, to me, can’t you see? You’re everything I hoped for. You’re everything I need. You are so beautiful, to me.

I wonder if Dennis Wilson, Bruce Fisher and Bill Preston had any idea when they wrote this song the Holy Spirit would play it for me in my mind when I wrote about Roger.

With love and gratitude,

Cay