The following is a story shared via blog by a professor at ACU:
"A friend gave me a fan."
That's how Willy started his story as we were sharing during the bible study I lead out at the prison.
Having a fan is a big deal. The prison is not air conditioned. And during Texas summers, when the temperatures climb to over 100 degrees for weeks and weeks on end, the prison becomes a stifling sweatbox. Some of the chaplains that teach classes at the prison cancel classes during the summer months because of the heat. It's too much to bear for the two hours of class.
The inmates live with it 24/7. Through the entire summer.
The only relief is a bit air movement provided by a small fan. A fan which costs money. And not everyone has money. Willy didn't. So the gift of a fan, in the middle of summer, was a pretty big deal. A huge, huge relief. A fan can keep you from going crazy during those hot Texas nights with no air conditioning and no windows.
Trouble was the fan was contraband. Prisoners can't give or receive gifts like that. Willy's fan broke the rules.
Still, it was not like he was hurting anyone. The contraband in question wasn't drugs or anything. It was just a fan for goodness' sake.
But one day while studying his bible Willy came across these words, "if you can't be faithful in the little things how can you be trusted with the big things?"
Willy became convicted. The fan broke the rules. It was a little thing, to be sure. But Willy wanted to be faithful, even in the little things. Especially in the little things.
As so, Willy concluded his story, "I threw the fan away."
The room listened in stunned silence. He what? He threw the fan away!? It was barely conceivable, beyond our moral horizons, that someone would be that obedient in the face of the resultant suffering he would have to endure.
"I didn't mind being hot," Willy continued, "I was able to share in the sufferings of Jesus."
Willy looked at me and smiled, gold teeth flashing.
"I was free inside. I was happy."
To read more of Dr. Beck's stories and thoughts, check out his blog: Experimental Theology
When I originally read these words, I began to cry. Maybe it was because homework is swallowing me alive this week. Perhaps it was because I'm your typical emotional cries-at-the-drop-of-a-hat college girl, and ever since I watched The Shawshank Redemption I've been incredibly sensitive toward prisons and the people they confine.
I mean really, confiscating a fan? Maybe there's a logical reason that they aren't allowed, but I can't imagine it would be impossible to find an alternative to that or to the lack of air conditioning in the Texas heat.
Anyway, the tears came.
Hard.
Those first two reasons are possible explanations but not probable ones. I think they came due to the picture captured is a perfect testimony to what the Gospel can do to a life, with the end result being chains broken inside of a man who is no different than you or me. He's simply a man in need of some saving grace.
When grace was offered, he accepted it.
Most of us let it stop there. We hear the Good News and confess Christ as our Savior, and then we halt. I love this story so much because the grace of God did not stop at a mere confession of mouth, but rather it took deep root inside the heart of a man convicting him to give his everything for the sake of Jesus Christ.
This is the call: to allow the story of Jesus to transform us from the inside out. To give up our lives. To truly embrace the cost of discipleship. To die to our flesh and make way for the Spirit to wreck our everything and ruin our selfish desires, replacing them with righteousness and freedom and truth and hearts that seek justice through loving mercy and walking humbly with God.
When I read the last word all I could think was that I wanted to love Jesus like the man in the story does.
