Freedom in Jail


I wrote a poem from Paul’s perspective inspired from
Philippians 1:12–14. I’m not a poet, but I thought I’d share.

I miss the glimpses of nightly stars;
Morning and evening pass without me.
Three walls of stone and a wall of bars;
Darkness is all I ever see.

I’m still not used to the sounds and the smell;
I don’t know if I ever will be.
This place feels like some sort of Hell;
This is how some will spend eternity.

I’m shackled and bound and can’t move around;
The iron is cold on my skin.
An abrasive reminder of the life I once lived,
And the depths of my great past sin.

But though these chains may never unlock;
I could waste away in their hold,
No power of steel or guards or stock
Can make Christ’s gospel fold.

That’s why I can rejoice today;
Even from this filthy prison.
His Word will never fade away;
My Jesus Christ has risen.

They want prison to make you feel alone,
like your freedom has been lost.
But true freedom is embraced and known
When Christ’s kingdom is built through cost.

If Christ need proclaimed to lost souls in jail;
What a privilege I have here to serve.
If the Church need boldness so that they won’t fail;
What a privilege I have here to serve.

I don’t like to suffer, but here is God’s plan,
And more than my comfort I love His will.
If that means I must die a jailed man,
I’ll gladly sing and preach here until.

The harvest is plentiful, the workers are few,
Even less are those who will suffer for Him.
My only hope and prayer for you,
Is that you will learn to become one of them.

Some will be mocked, some will join me here,
Some will even perish in the name of the Son.
But all trials, brothers, are worth it to hear
Our Father rejoice and say, “Well done.”


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