Looking from inside out
Looking from inside out
8 August 2022
COVID-19 isolation gave a small insight into life in prison. Photo: Alexsander Popovske on Unsplash
One Monday morning in July, I packed some final items into my suitcase. The following morning I planned to drive 100km from my home in Semaphore, Adelaide, to Murray Bridge.
My four-day stay would not be a holiday – I had signed up to support a Kairos team scheduled to lead a short course within Mobilong Prison. The team comprised 25 Christian men from different denominations, united in their purpose to share the love and good news of Jesus to the residents and staff of the prison. My role, alongside half a dozen others in the support team, was to pray at the base church and sort the many gifts of homemade biscuits and handwritten letters to be delivered to the prison.
Grandparents had been enlisted to assist my son with rides to high school exams. Several frozen meals had been prepared and placed in the freezer. My eldest son had been instructed to look after our cat. It would be the first time I had left our two sons, aged 19 and 16, alone for more than a day. Yet that wasn’t my main concern on Monday morning; my main concern was I had woken up with a sore throat.
By the afternoon, my symptoms had progressed to include fatigue, chills and a headache. The prison staff were already edgy about COVID-19, and there was no way I was going to introduce any unnecessary germs to the team at Murray Bridge. Although my RAT was negative, I emailed the team leader: “I’m going to need another day to recover from this cold. I’ll drive up on Wednesday morning.”
“No problem,” he replied. “Your health is the priority. We’ll see you when you’re well again.”
I rang my mum to tell her that she no longer needed to transport our younger son to his exam the following day. “Look after yourself,” she said, “and make sure you do another RAT tomorrow just in case.”
On Tuesday morning, I still had a sore throat but otherwise felt much better. After transporting my son to his exam, I followed Mum’s advice despite feeling reasonably well – and the test was positive.
Instead of three days in Murray Bridge, I now faced seven days of isolation. No coffee with friends in my favourite café. No walking group and no Parkrun. No quick trips to the shop to pick up bread and milk. Yet one of the few things I could do was pray. I could fulfil my role on the Kairos team at home.
Each day I eagerly read the prayer updates the team sent me via text and email. I prayed for the residents. I prayed for the guards who were in the room to supervise. I prayed for the team delivering the program. I prayed as I walked endless laps around our backyard.
Praying while in isolation gave me a small glimpse into life in prison. My choices for the day were greatly reduced. I could not move around freely in the community and see my friends.
I could only exercise in the yard and access the recreational options available in the house: books, music and art supplies. Of course, it was only a small glimpse. I still had much more freedom than an inmate because I could still see the members of my household each day, and I could access the internet. I also knew my release date was imminent.
Yet I now understand better what it means to “Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them. Remember those who are suffering, as though you were suffering as they are” (Hebrews 13:3).
The Kairos Short Course has ended, but I feel encouraged to keep praying for my brothers in Christ in prison and the residents who have not yet met Jesus.
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