VL - Issue 43- April 22

PHOTO BY ASHCROFT STUDIO PHOTOGRAPHY BY STEVE ROOS
Finally, the day I had been waiting for
came, and my caseworker gave me a release
date of October 28, 2020. I was overjoyed,
and my countdown began. I couldn’t
wait to see my precious family again. I
could almost taste my freedom!
And then, with just days left, my faith
was severely tested.
I had experienced many highs and lows
during my ten years in the federal system,
so this rollercoaster wasn’t new. My lowest
point had been when the Holy Spirit
brought me face-to-face with the person I
had become, apart from God. This new development
was just another dip in the ride.
I grew up in the church, but I was a
fraud. I hid behind masks and carried myself
with pride and arrogance. Like
many, I claimed with my mouth to
know God (Titus 1:16), but I wasn’t
a true Christ-follower in my heart.
Most of my mistakes have
stemmed from my insecurities.
Since a child, I’d felt unloved, unworthy,
deceived, and rejected—
despite the great love many family
members, particularly my grandparents,
showed me. It’s a lie Satan
sells to many of us.
Deception ruled my life in many forms,
including manipulation, greed, hypocrisy,
lies, and thievery. I quickly learned that
self-promotion and deception are exhausting
and seldom end well. They landed me
in prison. Of course, the Bible does warn us
that pride goes before destruction (Proverbs
16:18).
It took months of isolation, loneliness,
and despair to bring me to my knees in surrender
to God. During a trip to the special
housing unit, I finally quit playing games
with God and decided to get serious about
Him. There, I recognized my need for the
forgiveness and grace that Jesus Christ had
died to give me, and I embraced it wholeheartedly.
(I shared more details in Issue
4, 2019 of Victorious Living.)
Blessings were waiting for me on the
other side of that surrender—just as they
await anyone who lays down their life at
Jesus’s feet.
My true and lasting transformation began
right there in prison when I stepped
out into a genuine relationship with the
Lord. In His goodness, God didn’t waste
one experience or mistake, and He opened
doors for me to share my faith and minister
His love and grace to other inmates. It
was a privilege to encourage and mentor
other women with similar struggles and
tell them about the Savior who set me free.
I loved serving God as I did my time, but
I was never so naïve to think that doing
the Lord’s work would exempt me from
trials (John 16:33). I should have expected
Satan to rear his ugly head right as my
release date approached, but I was caught
off guard when I entered that valley.
I grew up in the church, but
I was a fraud. I hid behind
masks and carried myself
with pride and arrogance. I
wasn’t a true Christ-follower
in my heart.
Six days before my scheduled freedom, I
received word from the Bureau of Prisons
(BOP) that they had withdrawn my release
date. They did not provide a new date or
an explanation. The door just slammed
shut in my face. Stunned, I slipped into a
miserable state of uncertainty.
I had been so confident that the Lord
would answer my prayers favorably that
this came as a significant blow to my faith.
Lies from the enemy flooded my mind,
and fear of the unknown came in waves.
I fought to keep my eyes on my source of
strength, reminding myself, “God did not
bring you this far just to leave you, Melisha,”
but I was losing the battle.
I wasn’t the only one on this emotional
and spiritual rollercoaster. I watched my
incarcerated sisters deal with the same
pain as they, too, had lost their release
dates. I tried to encourage them, but I was
weary myself.
When one of my mentees got her release
date back, a spark of excitement came alive
inside of me...but it was short-lived. I allowed
myself a private moment of despair
before accepting that she would be leaving
without me. I was hurting and disappointed
but forced myself to dry my tears, suck
it up, and be there to support my friend.
One by one, all my close spiritual sisters
went home. I stayed behind.
I still held a tiny shred of hope that I
would make it home by October 30, in time
to surprise my mother for her seventieth
birthday. When that day came and went,
frustration and despair overtook me.
For several nights, I cried out to the
Lord, pouring everything out to Him and
begging for understanding. “Why
is this happening, Father God? I
know You have Your reasons, but
I am so confused!”
I remember getting loud about it
with Him as if He were deaf. I just
couldn’t wrap my head around
what was happening and why. I was
tired and felt alone, as if everyone
had forgotten about me.
Interestingly, letting God know
how confused and hurt I felt helped
ease my despair. On the other side of my
meltdown, I discovered His comfort (2
Corinthians 1:4), and my emotions began
to stabilize.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter why it was
happening or who was at fault. I understood
that God was most concerned with
my heart and my response to the situation.
It was time for me to get it together
if I wanted to have any peace. Psalm 37:7
teaches us to “Be still in the presence of
the Lord and wait patiently for Him to act”
(NLT). I decided to do what I should have
been doing all along—rest in God’s presence
and trust His timing.
I collected myself and asked God to forgive
me for letting these circumstances
affect my trust in Him. I began to thank and
praise Him for all He had done in my life
over the years. And as I worshiped Him, His
grace and peace flowed over me, bringing
contentment with them.
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