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The Field

Jesus, please help.

I’m tired of doing life like this 

I stepped into a pit of demonic oppressors I felt were meant for me

I think they’re killing me 

I want to do right 

but I’ve mixed my rights with left

and it’s felt me digging deep inside myself 

I’m my own worst enemy

dragging me to Hell with help

Who needs help from Hell?

Jesus, please help.

I’m on my knees confessing my mess 

Stressing a blessing deserving of death 

I never thought I’d be calling on you 

but I’m at the end of my road, and you’re the only one left

I’ve made it too far to clean up before I call 

even if I cleaned up, I’m still made out of dirt 

I’m calling on you with faith that it works 

but little did I know you called on me first 

Thank Jesus!

You showed up sowing my broken soul up 

Those demons that had my soul in a clutch, sure know

how to run when I call your name 

Name above all, I involve your flame 

With my heart, my soul, and all my brain 

to make a change in someone’s life 

who feels they can’t get it right

shining my little light in the darkness like bling bling

All praise King of Kings who save me to feed seeds in the dirt 

Faith in Jesus produces works 

Thank Jesus

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Every month, a physical envelope arrives at your door, postmarked from San Quentin Village, California. Inside, you will find original artwork, writing, and recipes from real contributors, along with a personal letter from me, Diane Kahn, founder of Humans of San Quentin, about the people who made them. You read it. You keep it.

Every piece comes from someone serving a sentence. Every piece reminds you they are so much more than that.

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