Russ Russell #V35292
SUSP A3-135L
P.O. Box 1050
Soledad, CA 93960

2-18-16

I Did Not Know Why, But I Discovered What
I've fallen 70 times. For decades, I battled addictions of all sorts, mostly alcohol. It wasn't till I admitted my deep pain and brokenness that fueled my never-ending quest to get higher and higher and higher that freedom came to be a possibility.

This is not about all my struggles, but about one specific day. I was about 30 years old. I'd violated parole... again. I was put back on a prison yard where I'd been saved, had served, had preached. Shame, guilt, and desperation consumed me. I hung my head and walked back into the chapel in which I'd been blessed to serve Him for years before my shameful fall. Opening that door was hard, real hard. I grabbed a free-on-the-inside Bible and the first book that came to hand, "What's So Amazing About Grace." Then I got out of there fast.

At 10:30 AM I went back into my cell in 5 Building, Cell 115. I read Psalm 23 + 51 (I think that's what it was) and tried to pray. My prayer seemed to hit the roof and fall to floor. Dear God did I hurt in that moment. I felt He had forsaken me as I so richly deserved. I wrapped the Bible and book in a T-shirt, stuffed all my state issued property in my large plastic bag, and hit the yard.

I found Psycho, the shot-caller for the Hollywood skinheads. He was the dope man on the yard. I told him that God had cut me off. I was done with all of that. Slob, Dago Slob was back! That's who I was, the old man. He welcomed me with open arms, kicked out his cellie, and together we pressured the yard clerk to move me from 1-5-115 L to 1-3-239—Psycho's cell! I moved my property over at 2PM—just one large bag of state clothes, Bible and book wrapped in a T-shirt. Then I went out to the yard to see who was calling shots for Dago Mob—the Hell's Angel affiliates. My plan was to claim power. God would not have me. I was going back.

Yard recall, I entered my new cell. Psycho's. He was already home, sitting on the desk, a loaded hypo of heroin waiting for me. I shut the door. The door popped open. I shut it again. It popped open again. Sticking my head out, a CO called up to me, "Russell, the Lt. reserved your move. He knows you pressed his clerk. Get yo' as* back to 5 Building—now. Leave your property. I'll send it later."

Entering 5 Building, I was told I was not going back to my original cell (115) but to 140. I got in there. No one else lived there and, from all the dust and cobwebs, it seemed no one had in a while. I was raging mad! How dare they mess with me!

Calling a porter over, I ordered him to bring me a cleaner, a bucket, and rags so I could clean the cell. I got what I wanted, got on my knees to knee. Looked under the bed, back in the corner—a mass of trash and dust bunnies. Under all of that I found three things: a free-on-the-inside Bible, "What's So Amazing About Grace." Those two copies, the one still wrapped in my T-shirt over at Psycho's and the one discovered under the bunk are the only two copies of that book I've ever seen! The other thing I found was an assurance, a faith, a God who never ever says we're done.

Dear God did I weep! The glory of God, the very PRESENCE OF GOD, filled that cell that night. I didn't know why, but I found what.

That's who my God is!

In the many years since, I've often stumbled, fallen even. But I've never, for a moment, considered leaving His kingdom and reentering the world. Christ told those women, "Tell my disciples and Peter—after he had denied three times!—I am risen!"

Our Lord will never run out of "And Russ's." He's a god of second chances. Let Him give you one too. God bless you.

Num. 6:24-26
Gal 2:20

Russ

P.S. No, I never did do that heroin. :)