Sparrow’s Song…Eight Days…One Room, NO View

John 3:16 NIV: For God so loved the world that he gave his …

John 3:16 (NIV) 16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

           Clang! The sound of metal hitting metal reverberated in my ears as I was pushed into a

cell, and the door clanged behind me. I sunk down into a corner on a cold, gray, concrete floor

and curled up into ball.  I was a petite young woman of 30, but when I had my knees folded

into my chest and my head bowed down into my knees, I looked like a child. The brown prison

uniform emblazed with a the words; ‘WOMAN’S CORRECTIONAL FACILITY’ on my back

gave my ‘maturity’ away.

How did I get here? What happened in my life to allow me to get to this place?  I was pretty, I

was smart, and I had a lot going for me. I had the ‘world by the tail’, as the saying goes. 

Thinking about my past, it seemed like it was just yesterday when my ‘Mom’ told me that my

biological dad was my adopted brother, Steve.   She said she and my dad adopted me, just like

she adopted him 25 years earlier. Yet I lived two whole lives in that time frame.

            I was very perplexed that day, but we sang our song in my ‘comfort chair’.   That always

made me feel   better.  I can still hear her voice blending with my little girl voice; ‘Jesus loves the

little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow black and white they are precious in

His sight.’  I heard the words over and over in my head, but did I believe them? So much had

happened since I was that young girl. How could I believe them? I wanted to believe them, but

would He still love me after all that I have done?

            The last few years whirled through my mind as I desperately tried to figure out where I

turned down the wrong path for the

how could He still love this wayward child after all that I have done? Better question; WHY

first time.   I reviewed my history.  As a child, Mom and Dad

told me that I was adopted into their family.  They already had three biological children, and

one adopted son.  It was their adopted son that always intrigued me. He rarely came home to visit

because he was in the military.  He was permanently stationed in the Philippines. The time or

two that I did see him, I always saw a resemblance in my own features and coloring, but I knew

he was adopted as well. Maybe from the same country?  But that day when I sat in the ‘Comfort

chair’ with Mom, and she told me I was his daughter-he is my dad, I felt like I had something

inside me-break! I think it was the part that makes you feel like you have connections of flesh

and blood that look like you, laugh like you, even tell jokes like you. I should have felt more of a

connection with Steve, he was my flesh and blood after all.  But I didn’t!

            Maybe it was the thought that my mom that birthed me-abandoned me. Maybe it was

because my father, knowing my own Mom abandoned me, also released me into the care of the

foster system. I am not really sure, but a piece inside me broke that day. Oh, my adoptive parents

tried to mend it. I went to Christian schools, did all the things kids my age did.  They both loved

me unconditionally and nothing was denied to me in my childhood, except my birth parents!

            Someone walked by my cell, interrupting my train of thought.  Tapping on the bars,

the ruff voice of the guard asked; “need anything?” I wanted to say “Yes, I need my mom!”  

Instead, I just shook my head, and the guard moved on. I knew I was the only one who would

pay the price for the things I had done. No one could help me with that!

            But how would I survive? As that question was swirling through my mind, I had another

sinking feeling. In a very short time, I would be in need of a ‘fix’ for my drug addiction. I knew

there would be nothing in this lonely, bare prison cell. I had already heard how the ‘detox’ goes

here in prison…it goes with nothing!  Not even a Tylenol to take the edge off some of the pain.

How would I be able to go through it?

            An old memory filled my thoughts. I was in school maybe second grade, and I

took a piece of my favorite candy from someone else’s desk when she wasn’t looking!  Teacher

saw me! She called me up to her desk and made me see that what I did was wrong, but Jesus died

to take all our wrong things and forgive us of them, if we ask Him. I assured her that I wanted to

ask Him to forgive me, and right there I gave my heart to Jesus and asked for forgiveness for all

my sins. Teacher gave me a hug and told me I had become a child of God.  I could ask for my

father’s help  any time I needed it! Right then I cried out to the Lord in grave desperation; “I

need your help now Father God, please help me!” 

            I started sneezing and my nose was running.  A cold, now?  I asked for a tissue from the

guard.  Some rough paper towels got tossed into my cell.  I shivered in a cold sweat.  My head

began to pound.  My stomach began to wretch.  Even though I had very little in my stomach…it

all came up with a vengeance.  Next thing, I ran to the toilet-and stayed there.  Later that day, my

legs began to quiver and shake. That was the worst!  They never stopped moving no matter what

I did!

            The guard faithfully watched from me outside the door.  Suicide watch.  I

continued experiencing these symptoms.  I kept refusing food and water.  It just came up-or out. 

The shifts changed, the new guard watched, dietary brought food and water, I wretched!  I found

out later that this routine lasted for eight days!  Medics were on stand-by to take me to

the hospital for tube feeding that day, if I did not begin to eat.  Small sips of water and small

bites of something sustained my life.

            Just when I felt like I wanted to die, I remembered my mom and three small daughters.  I

have such high hopes for them.  I want them to know their mommy!  I don’t want them to

experience this lack of identity in their lives.

            Gradually the pain let up, the food and water started to stay down, and I began to realize

what a mess I had made in that cell!  When the shift changed the new guard looked in.  I was

sitting up on the cot as straight and controlled as I could.  She said, “wow, you are back among

the living!”  I gave her a weak smile.   She unlocked the cell door and came in, standing right in

front of me she made a grimace and yelled, phew…you stink!  Let’s get you into a hot shower.”

I overheard her as she radioed to the commanding officer that the cell needed a top-down entire

cleaning-stat!  And off we went to the shower!

            The officer roughly pushed my skinny naked body into the empty shower stall.  The

glistening white from the tiles hurt my sore eyes, but I was happy to be getting clean, in more

ways than one.  She threw soap and a wash cloth at me and said scrub up good…your hair too! 

The officer walked away, though she was within hearing distance at all times.  I let the water run

down over my bruised body.  The needle tracks looked so much worse right now.  My bony arms

and legs reminded me of photos I saw of holocaust victims.  I just soaped up and stood under the

hot water rinsing, soaping up, then rinsing, again and again.  As the water splashed over my

body, I pictured all the wrong and hurtful things I had done sliding off with the soap and water

and gliding into the drain.  But could I ever be really clean again?  My skin and hair would get

the best scrubbing ever with the coarse octogan soap I was given, but would my spirit be able to

survive what was ahead for me?  I was sentenced to 18 years for three ‘death on delivery’

charges.  My guilt was overwhelming at times, but there was nothing I could do now to change

past!

            “Hey you, are ya done in there yet?”  The guard was calling me.  She didn’t even know

my name!  I wanted to yell it…” Sparrow, my name is Sparrow!”  Instead, I said, “yes mam, I

am finished with my shower”.  She came to the door and had a smile on her face. She looked as

radiant as the angels on Christmas cards.   When she handed me the towel it was warm and fluffy

white.  Not what I was expecting! 

            Ahhhhhh…I began to feel human again and I walked out of the shower toward the guard

wrapped in the warm fluffy towel, and just held it to me.  I smiled at the guard and thanked her.

The guard looked up at me and for the first time, we were eye-to eye.  She softly asked; “what IS

your name?”

            “My name is Sparrow.”  She smiled.  Immediately all the pain, hurt, anger and

disappointment I felt about my life-dropped from my shoulders like a hot rock!  Though nothing

changed on the outside, I would still be locked-up for a long time, still I knew I was forgiven and

I would not only survive, but thrive even in this horrible place.  I finally felt a peace I had not felt

since I was a child.  I was content on the inside where my spirit re-connected with my God!  I

had become  an important part in a family…God’s family!