Pray for those in jail

I'd never walked into a jail building before this year. But as a missionary the Lord is calling me into new spaces.

My story starts with a friend named Joshua. I remember the first day that we met him on the streets. The biggest smile with a few missing teeth. There was something unique, though, about the first encounter with Joshua. It was something he said… “I can’t wait to see you again.” It may sound simple but a desire for friendship is not common for a first encounter. Our walk with Joshua began there. My street partner, Julie, and I returned every week to chat and check in. One of my favorite memories from the year was the time we broke pita with him over a meal from his top Mediterranean food cart. We learned so much about our friend, his faith, the emotional wounds that he bore from growing up in a country divided by war, and his current battle with addiction.

A page was beginning to turn in Joshua's life. God was beginning to work, and I was simply there to witness it. God does the heavy lifting, a recurring theme through the year. In this way, an amazing thing began to happen: Joshua was talking to God again. 

In this time he was occasionally going to Mass at St. Michael with us (to him, the brick building next to Pizza Schmizza), attending lunch in the park, and getting to know the other missionaries. 

But this is the part where my story turns. The last time I saw Joshua was at lunch. We devoted our time out on the streets to sit down with him and listen to his heart. During this check-in we got to learn more about the pain that Joshua deals with; not just physically, but emotionally.

The next night I went back to Joshua’s tent to bring him soup.. 

His tent was gone, his campsite was clean. 

In my business this is bad news, because it is not always easy to find a relocated friend. So I asked around. No one really knew where Joshua went. Then, I finally came across a face that I'd encountered before in Joshua’s tent.

“Joshua is in jail.”

The words hit me straight in my soul. I was with him less than 24 hours ago, and now he’s gone. My friend was in jail. 

I went home that night with a prayer in my heart: “Jesus be with your son, Joshua. Jesus because you are the one who said ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.’” (Luke 4:18).

The next day came and Joshua was still weighing on my soul. Being in jail wasn’t going to stop me from being his friend. So I made a plan with Jack and Isabel (two other missionaries), my most simple and brightest plan yet: we are going to jail. 

“The next day came and Joshua was still weighing on my soul. Being in jail wasn’t going to stop me from being his friend.
So I made a plan... we are going to jail.”

On that Friday after Mass that is what we did. We walked down to the jail and straight through the doors. Before we could even get through the metal detectors the officer on duty asked us the purpose for our visit. “We are here to see our friend.” I think the officer thought that we looked out of place by the amount of help and attention that we received. 

At the counter, we came to the realization that we did not know Joshua’s full name. Thus began the search.The front desk officer patiently sifted through inmates' information while we gave her at least a dozen different spellings of his full name. Finally we showed her a photo we had taken together with Joshua at lunch. “That’s our Joshua.” It seemed that each step of the way we faced a barrier, and each step of the way God guided us through to his son, Joshua.

We had some questions on our minds: Why was he there? What happened? Well, apparently once you go to jail all your sins are public knowledge. It was hard to hear the officer list off all the offenses that brought him in. But this did not change my view on him; the only way that I could see Joshua was “friend”. 

So we scheduled a time to go back the next day. Unfortunately, we could not meet in person because of COVID, so we’d have to video call from the lobby. 

I have to be honest that, at this point, this blog post is not going to end with a supernatural conversion or a change of heart or even a connection on the other end of the video call. (But that doesn’t mean that this story is over.) After our two attempts and returns to the jail, Joshua did not pick up the phone. With the allotted twenty minutes that we had at the jail we prayed over a blank screen. 

This is the most real part of the mission. Faith. Trusting in God because I can’t be there in Joshua’s darkest moments but He can and continues to be. I did not sign up to do this mission to be the hero. I can’t be the hero. The hero came over 2000 years ago, and He already won for me and for Joshua. During His mission, Jesus came with the promise to go after the one lost sheep, and he won't stop until he brings him back. 

Please pray for my friend. I miss him. 

Diego Yañez