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Godly guidance for inmates Mail Tribune / Drew Fleming The Rev. Diane Bryant lays her hands on Jackson County Jail inmate Jeanette Lyles, praying for healing of Lyles� back pain. Inmate Florence Smith, standing, watches and waits for her turn. Jailhouse pastor helps with more than religion By Melissa Martin Florence Smith describes the nighttime panic attacks � feelings of helplessness and claustrophobia � that she sometimes gets when she�s locked in her cell at the Jackson County Jail. "I wake up in the middle of the night, and I have to call out to God," the 40-year-old inmate says. Just last week, Smith had three drinks with a family member to celebrate her parole from jail in Stockton, Calif. But the party ended in a scuffle, and police arrested Smith the next day on outstanding warrants for writing bad checks. "I feel like this is a test to see where my faith is going," says the mother of five boys. "I knew the wreckage of my life was going to catch up with me. But this is the last sail on this voyage." Diane Bryant hopes she can direct women like Smith to calmer seas. Bryant has been going to jails for 17 years to do more than preach jailhouse religion. The Phoenix minister helps ex-inmates find a place to live, a job and a spiritual support system to guide them in productive and sober living. "Diane has a real passion for ladies in trouble and wants to see them not just make it through their time in prison, but follow up when they get out," says the Rev. Lawrence Blight, chaplain for the Jackson County Jail and a pastor at First Church of the Nazarene. Bryant and her 23 volunteers representing 10 local churches hold services for female inmates at the jail and the Talent work release center. Blight�s team also includes volunteers from Gideons International and Applegate Christian Fellowship who hold weekly services for male inmates. "Diane believes that once you get out, unless you change the people you hang out with, you�ll go right back into the same old things," Blight said. Finding acceptance It�s more than just jailhouse religion to Bryant. She believes the first thing an ex-con should do is find a church where she feels loved and accepted, hang out with friends who share a strong faith in God and regularly attend small-group sessions where she can be held accountable for her actions. Bryant practices what she preaches. She leads a 12-step Christian support group in her home on Mondays. She has also taken ex-prisoners into her home. "It�s very evident in her life that the love she has for these women is agape love � it comes from God," says Allie Schneider, who attends Bryant�s 12-step support group and serves as a volunteer in the jail chaplain program. "She doesn�t need to know where they came from; she just cares where they are going." Trophies for God The Rev. Bryant loves to go to jail. On a recent Sunday evening, she is locked in a small room with four inmates. She looks into their faces and asks, "How many of you should be dead? How many of you have almost overdosed on drugs or were nearly killed drinking and driving? " Voices hum in agreement, hands raise and heads nod. Jeanette Lyles, 36, who has been in and out of jail for more than half her life, says, "I�m in here because I bought a gun so I could kill myself." "Every one of you is a trophy for God," Bryant tells them. "God loves us. He knows the worst thing about us. We can�t hide from Him. He wants to restore our identity. He created us in His image." "We have to break unholy, unhealthy patterns," she tells the four women. All four sent "kites," or written requests to attend worship services. No one is forced to be in the locked room with Bryant. They must request it, and there�s room for only 12 women at a time. The chaplains must go in pairs, and there is a telephone that instantly connects to the jail command center. (Jackson County jail has room for 20 women and 170 men.) "You can�t go back to the places where you did drugs or drank. You need to start hanging around Christians who are stronger than you are," Bryant tells them. Listening to Bryant�s soothing voice read from the Bible causes tears to roll down the cheeks of 37-year-old Karen Carlson. She�s a federal prisoner being held temporarily at the jail. "I�m facing a big, bad thing," Carlson says. "I�m scared, and I have five kids. I�m thankful that their father is taking care of them and a landlord is helping. But to think about not seeing them until they are grown is so hard." Bryant, a gifted story teller, listens quietly and then responds by telling of an inmate who received mercy from a judge when she was honest about her crimes and her desire to change. " �Your honor, you�re going to think this is jailhouse religion,� " Bryant quoted the inmate as saying. " �I was walking with God, staying in relationships with other Christians and being accountable. But then I started hanging out with my old boyfriend. I stopped answering my phone. I stopped meeting with my Christian friends and I ended up back in jail. I have a 5-year-old daughter at home, and I want to raise her.� " The judge sentenced the woman to home detention, Bryant told the attentive listeners. Sometimes "mercy outweighs judgment," but other times, an honest answer before a judge doesn�t yield such a lenient response, she cautioned. "Remember, �He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it in Christ Jesus,� " she says, quoting from a Scripture that was penned by a prisoner, the Apostle Paul, to first-century Christians living in Philippi. A success story One of the success stories in Bryant�s life is Pam Luciano, who spent 21 years life addicted to heroine and in and out of prison. During a jail chapel service in 1989, Luciano says, she was healed of a back problem that caused her to limp. "Diane started praying over me and I felt heat in my leg. I could see my legging growing. When I stood up, my limp was gone," Luciano says. Luciano returned to her jail cell and spent the next week telling everyone what happened. When the pharmacist came by to issue medication for her chronic back and leg pain, Luciano said she leaned down to speak through the slot in the door, refusing the prescription and telling him, "I don�t need it anymore � I�ve been healed. God�s touched me. And I no longer have an addiction to drugs, drink or cigarettes." When Luciano got out of jail for the last time, she entered a recovery treatment program in Gold Hill and began attending a discipleship group that required two hours of classroom time each week, plus homework. Later at a wedding of two people in the group, Luciano counted 13 people celebrating their fifth year of sobriety. While she was in recovery, Luciano found a job as machinist, moved into an apartment and got her kids back from the state so she could finish raising them herself. She now works as a home health aide. Luciano is grateful for the day she met Bryant. "Diane has been someone I call when I need some guidance," she says. And the story of Luciano�s healing is still being told around jail cells. "I became a legend," Luciano said. "I think God did something special for me. If we got what we deserve, that�s not what I would have gotten. I praise God for the miracle. But all of us have miracles. Sometimes we get jaded and don�t recognize it." The spiritual component The Sunday night worship services represent just one of several opportunities for the nearly 200 inmates at the Jackson County jail, according to Sgt. Ray Hanosek. Inmates may attend Alcoholic Anonymous meetings held at the jail on Wednesdays. They may visit the jail�s library once a week and twice a week they have a recreation time, whether it�s playing basketball on the roof or ping pong in the multipurpose room. "If a person is in jail, it doesn�t mean their spiritual needs stop," said jail Commander Lt. Jim Warren. "In a lot of cases, I think the needs increase because of the stress on the individual. Having someone with a sympathetic ear to listen and understand the personal problems tends to decrease the stress level for the prisoner." The jail chaplain agrees that prison can be wake-up call for inmates. "We are made up of more than just mind and body," Blight said. "We try to address the needs by keeping the mind alert by providing a library, keeping the body healthy with an exercise room. But there is a spiritual component in everyone�s life. "There�s a saying that everyone gets religion in jail. But for many people, this is a spiritual wake-up call," Blight said. "In jail, they�ve got time to think about it without distractions." Reach reporter Melissa Martin at 776-4476, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2000 Mail Tribune, Inc.