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My heart is overwhelmed. I ache knowing I cannot fulfill these desires, but I’m grateful. I’m grateful to God who reminds me how I may still touch this individual with a special prayer on my birthday, March 12th.

From time to time while lying in my prison bunk in California, I ponder about another who shares my date of birth or the date closest to it, someone who may be lying in his bunk in a Prison House in Congo, Africa.

I’m physically, spiritually and emotionally healthy. But what about him? Aside from his emotional well being, what about the desires of his heart? Does he hear from his family like I do? What did he aspire to be when he was a young lad? What were his life history wounds? When was the last time he had a cold Pepsi with ice?

I wish I could be present with him in his yard of scarcity in his prison in the Congo, so he could tell me the deep things of his heart or share with me his inner sorrow. I would be hesitant to tell him that I could eat a HoneyBun whenever I want or file a grievance if my broccoli is served cold here in this American prison, 9000 miles away from him.

Perhaps he would join me in singing a worship song on my guitar and after we could kneel before God Almighty in prayer asking Him for redemption, healing and hope.

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