My visit to see Chris

I am a changed woman after visiting Chris. Frankly, I'm still not sure what to make of it all. The visit was absolutely drenched in the Holy Spirit and I feel very blessed to be Chris' friend. This experience of being his advocate has opened my eyes to a world that has always been far, far out of my line of vision. My life and the lives of those in my family have been untouched by this kind of hardship. I haven't prayed through it all yet but here is the brief letter that I wrote to Chris with a few reflections on the experience.

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May 2, 2011

Dear Chris,

It was SO GOOD to see you, to wrap you up in a big bear hug! Our two hours went so fast, they are a blur. I can still see you as I walked out the door, standing by the window, gazing through its frosted glass as you imagine the trees swaying in the breeze. I got teared up leaving you behind.

It was a very moving scene for me – the whole thing. The other inmates in all their shapes and sizes, with loved ones leaning in to talk close across the invisible “no touch” barrier delineated by language. There was so much life in that visitors room. Children, wives, girlfriends, siblings. The image of the Latino inmate rocking his sleeping 2 month old in his arms as he caught up with his special lady is burned into my mind. I swear my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Even just pulling into the parking lot of the looming concrete prison I started to well up. “There are people in there,” I whispered to my radio. People. Caged. Cut away from the body of Christ like a cancer threatening the life of us. I know that they screwed up but I also know that things just aren’t that simple. Everything is reduced to black and white inside the gray walls so we can pretend that life is fair, clear cut, able to be controlled.

It struck me hard too how many faces were of color. There were a couple white guys, but so many more of Latino and African American descent, shouting volumes about the breakdown in the ideals of the country I love so much, our beloved Land of the Free.

And you. The last I saw you, you had just left the Jesuits. When you came from around the post, I was caught off guard by the hardened edge of your gait and for a moment I was taken aback. This is not the same Chris. And why should it be? You have scaled mountains since we last saw each other, and so of course the story of your sacrifice is being written into your body.

And then we talked, and underneath the hardened exterior it was still you. Still you. Still your bright eyed, gentle, compassionate, fiery, driven, Jesuit self. Thank God. Thank God. Maybe you are even more yourself since the last time I saw you.

It was SO GOOD to see you, to wrap you up in a big bear hug. I can still see you standing by the window, gazing through its frosted glass as you imagine the trees swaying in the breeze.

Love

anne