Back to Zac's

Back to Zac's last night for the first time in a month: the wedding, the holiday and my cold have stopped me going recently. Lots of familiar faces, some new ones. One is Mark. I haven't seen him since before Christmas; then he taught me a valuable lesson as I wrote in my blog at the time.

"There's a new face in Zac's (new to me anyway). He's of slight build, wearing a red coat, and with alcohol on his breath. He sits at a table and his eyes are focused somewhere way beyond the confines of the room. I guess that he has stumbled across the place and is grateful for somewhere warm indoors to spend an evening; I think he will be asleep before long.

"We're continuing in the run-up to Christmas with a look at Mary. Redcoat isn't asleep but is following intently. Several times he interrupts and in a rambling, drawn-out fashion - the pauses typical, I think, of a drunk getting his thoughts together - makes a point. Given the chance, I would exchange knowing smiles with someone. If I had been in charge I would have been tempted to step in, in one of the pauses, and carry on with what I was saying, hoping he would get the message, but Sean waits patiently until he is sure he has finished. Others speak up and acknowledge the truth of what he is saying, giving him respect.

"Then Sean asks me to read. At the end of my reading the first person to come and speak to me is Redcoat. 'That was incredible,' he says. I am humbled."

Last night I was amazed at the difference. He still has a slight air of not being quite with it - but I think that's just him. He was really very alert. He has a job labouring and in the evenings, he gets home and works on the house he and his partner are doing up. He's part of a local church and has come on so far from where he was back in November. He remembers that time and says he was struggling then. He is an inspiration.

Dee, who is usually very quiet, also spoke up last night. Very honestly she recounted her battle with depression. It took a lot for her to say it but as Sean said, it demonstrated the trust and unity of the community that is Zac's.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I am in prison next Sunday. Yesterday I saw Trevor, who has been in with us on one occasion, and he asked if he could go in again next Sunday.

After his previous visit, the feedback I received was that the chaplain wasn't happy because he had been dressed very scruffily, in a t-shirt full of holes. Now we might not necessarily agree with the chaplain's rules, but the prison is his domain and he has the yay or nay on whether we can go in or not. And sometimes he has very good reasons for his rules. So I tried to suggest tactfully to Trevor that he might want to make an effort to dress respectably. To which he replied, 'I shall wear whatever God tells me to wear. And if they don't let me in so be it.'
Oh, dear.

I rather suspect that Trevor has his own agenda for wanting to go in so maybe it's best if he doesn't come with us! Pray for me: I am going to have to deal with this issue this week.

Husband suggested telling him that when God said 'holey t-shirt', he meant 'holy t-shirt'.

One with this motto on it maybe.

Or perhaps he'd prefer this holy thong.

(It's amazing what you can find on the internet.)