Afterword: A Redemption Story by Jasmine Eye

This is a reminder and ode to the gifts God has personally blessed me with. Without God I was homeless and familyless. I thought the bums and punx on the street were my family, but now that I have kids, responsibilities, and love, I'm starting to realize it wasn't the same. The new friends God has given me are also hard to accept as friends because my old life and friends/family weren't the same, not as loyal and loving...It's a lot to take in. In fact, a lot of the time, I feel like a toddler must feel at Disneyland for the first time: it's a lot to take in! Must be overwhelming and exhausting. The Lord has done way too much for this old street bandit. A lot of the time I fear that I'll go back to where I'm used to, penniless and filthy on the streets, scabbies, lice, coming up with scams with the junky bunch.

God has loosed my shackles. Now, I say shackles because I have eight batteries on police officers, attempted escape (I think I have two of those), smuggling drugs into a facility...now, now, I can explain my side of these stories, and it looks a lot worse on paper. In fact, I look horrible on paper all around; it has discouraged many potential employers and landlords. So, when I say shackles, I mean I generally get my own cage on the bus and chains from wrist to ankles. I've been in and out at least yearly sense I was nineteen (I'm thirty-six now), and before then I have a 3"-thick juvenile rap sheet. So let's say I've done a lot of street studies; I used to stomp the streets of LA and Riverside and did a little freight train hopping, hobo style.

This last time I was incarcerated, God spoke to me and gave me a choice: follow or not. I said yes. I was looking at 3-15 years for assault with a deadly weapon and was planning to take it to trial pro bono, which generally takes about a year. And the victim was there to testify; he was incarcerated on some separate charge. Anyway, the Lord released me after only six months! That's unheard of. God told me after I surrendered and told Him I gave up in my cell to "get to know my Son." I was like, what's that supposed to mean!? So I went to the library religious section. All religions are there. So I closed my eyes, moved my finger all around, and opened them to the Holy Bible. I smirked to the sky like really!? Jesus? That little skinny pale hippy gag all those weirdos never shut up about? I told God, "Alright, I'll read it, but only to find all the contradictions to give the jail preachers a hard time."

It took me 6 months to read cover to cover. I found no contradictions and I fell in love. The book came to life in my hands like a creature in its own. I still have two Bibles from my incarceration. One has sandwich sticker tabs separating the books and passages I loved. The other is unmarked except my booking number. As soon as I was done God released me, July 5th. I learned a lot while in, enough to fill a book, and that's just jail recipes (spreads, hair dyes, mascara, etc...). The Lord has kept giving, and I haven't had cuffs on since, about 4 years now. That's a lot for me.

I got the honor of taking care of my grandpa until he passed, and I got to pray him out—meaning, have him accept Jesus before he passed. My eyes were opened to my family and their lack of love. I got to forgive and love before my grandma's mind got taken away (dementia). He gave me a home—not just a home, a two-story town house near Huntington Beach pier. My kids have awesome schools; I have three awesome, smart boys who love me. I have a black F150 truck. I love it, named it Grace. All these things for a gal who did nothing but pray and surrender. I have a man who loves my kids and me, and listens. I'm learning love and congregation. I get to learn about having a family, and it all started by getting to know God's Son, Jesus, who made setting me free in mind, body and spirit possible. Now the trick is not crawling into a box or alley where I'm comfortable, continuing to ask the Father, and continuing to learn from the best teacher, the Son. I wonder if after Barabbas was released he turned to God too, because like him, Jesus took my place. He took my rap sheet, crumpled it, and threw it behind His back and said, "Go free." By God's grace, through Jesus Christ, I am free, and He continues to free me and teach me. I will forever be grateful and in awe.

Breathing Again: Remembering our Larger Theme | "Lead Me to the Cross" - by Amber Ross

Your cross is more than the Mexican sunflower
It is more than the Icelandic poppy
It is more than the French lavender
It extends past the parts of this world I choose to admire to keep my soul at ease
Your cross is more than beautiful

It lends itself to me
It covers me
It changes me
It fulfills me and claims my salvation
Your cross has set me free

It pushes past the admiration I would deem appropriate
On a single Sunday morning as the sun rises
It surpasses my life—it encompasses my life.
It takes the blood of you and cleanses the blood in me
Your cross fills the divide that is unfillable

It was 6:30 p.m. when I saw your cross on a Wednesday night
I saw your cross on the 73 North
As my car went over itself to go under itself to go around itself
You claimed my life with your cross

And as I look to your cross, it calls out to me, "Trust me"
Your arms for me are open wide
And I can't help but notice that your cross means more than a sunrise on a Sunday morning
It was more than the three days it stood in the Middle Eastern sky
Your cross touches every sunrise before then
And it claims every sunset after that