It's Saturday evening. Right now I'm in my little prison
cell basking in the spiritual afterglow of this afternoon's worship service.
While the sunshine and warm temperatures tempted and
beckoned many prisoners into the recreation yard, about fifty of us went to the chapel instead. For
us we had a 20-member choir who came from the City of Poughkeepsie, New York.
There is something wonderful about praising the Lord
with men and women from outside these prison walls who have the anointing of God upon their lives, and who Love Him, too.
With the acoustics in our house of worship it often
sounds as if there are
more people in the building that are actually present.
Approximately fifty inmates and 20 guests made for
seventy people. Yet as we all began to sing, and when I closed my eyes, it seemed
as if five hundred were there.
And as tears flowed down my face, and as I lifted my
hands into the air, it
felt as if my soul was being cleansed.
This group calls themselves "HIS Choir." Then as we sang and clapped our hands in adoration for Jesus Christ, the time flew by so fast.
The brothers and my chaplain spent two hours with these
Christians. I wanted the worship to go on forever.
April 17, 2004
(c) 2004 David Berkowitz