Maple Syrup and Big Hair

One morning after church, Marianna asked me, “Would you like to come to the women’s Bible Study at the penitentiary?” And so I went with eagerness and curiosity because it felt like a holy thing to do on a Sunday evening. However, when the guards frisked us and asked to remove all our jewellery at the County Jail, something shifted. An uneasiness lingered. We got into a small lift which grunted and rattled and then stopped on the wrong floor. The doors opened and right before us were women prisoners behind bars waving, shouting and whistling at us. For a split second, I caught sight not only of the women, but their spirit, as if something had gone out of them. Marianna smiled back gently at the women as the lift doors closed too slowly. Sometimes we need gentle warriors to remind us that broken things and darkness can never be bigger than the reality of who God is.

We arrived on the correct floor this time and the women drifted into the room one by one, and I couldn’t help but notice some of the elaborate big hair that must have taken hours to style. “The women”, Marianna explained, “save the maple syrup at meal times to do their hair.” They had come glammed up, for church. “Some of these women are here for murder,” Marianna said, with no judgement in her voice but compassion. You cannot just come to a place like this, Sunday after Sunday for over thirty years unless you are willing to be committed. I felt the hardness of my heart so carefully hidden inside me split. When we touch the scars of others we recognise where they have been and free them from their past. Marianna, by simply turning up, gave them permission to exist beyond the prison walls that defined them. Because you see, there is nothing that God cannot salvage, there is no one God turns away.

At the end of the Bible Study Marianna asked if anyone wanted to share anything. A lady in the front row with beautiful long blonde hair raised her hand, “I’ve got a song for Jesus,” she said. “Sure,” Marianna nodded back at her. Sceptical, I was even a little embarrassed for this woman. It was an impromptu rendition with no lyrics, no music but she sang, she sang like a soul who understood where she had been and where she was now. The invisible thread that I held in my fists separating them and me began to fray. My God who was present in my church this morning, was present in this holy space, breathing in her, beholding her and calling her holy. Like the woman who broke the alabaster jar at the feet of Jesus, the fragrance of the song filled the whole room. How can I not see miracles when God had pitched His dwelling place right here inside this prison? The Father who has cried many tears, who has wept for these daughters was present in this desolate place waiting with arms wide open saying, “Welcome home my child.” When God sees our scars, He sees only magnificent beauty. For those who have lost everything, it may just take one encounter with Christ to show them that they have been made for more.

Sometimes, we all need reminding not to give up on people, on the ministries that we hold in our hearts, for the service that we do by simply turning up year after year even when we can’t see change. Marianna simply turned up and opened herself fully to the work of the Father by saying, “I am your servant. Do a mighty work here.” In a place marred by scars and wounds where the women are not even allowed mirrors because they cut their wrists and try to kill themselves, every day is a miracle. Each morning the women rise up, gulp air and stay alive is a testimony that God can do much more than we can imagine. So when I see the maple syrup hair I see women God has redeemed, I see women whom God loves and women so amazingly beautiful in His eyes.

These are hard times, even confusing times. We have had to redefine our worship, connect and serve in a new way and at times have been disappointed and frustrated. Who knows, perhaps frustrations are the very thing God uses to sustain our growth. Perhaps, our task at this moment of uncertainty is to be faithful, to be resilient, to open our hands to the one who pitches His tent amongst us and say, “I am your servant. Do a mighty thing here.”

This was Marianna’s last letter to me:

“I am still going to the County Jail every other Sunday and we drive up to the prison to visit women there who get no visitors. The prison furnishes Bibles to those who want to read together and we also buy each one a meal, which they really love. I’ll soon be 89 – God is SO Good!” Love, Marianna

When we stick with a group of people, when we stay alongside a community by simply turning up then the capacity for change is always possible. Marianna showed me that warriors don’t always have to be brave but simply faithful.

Matthew 25:34-40 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’