“The Power of Prayer in Prison,” Liahona, December 2020
The Power of Prayer in Prison
I will always remember this Christmas Eve.
Illustration by Phil Art
I served four and a half years in federal prison for real estate fraud. Most of the women there were quiet and respectful. Then 10 women moved into the cell across from mine.
They would stay up late at night laughing and listening to loud music. They didn’t seem to care how their behavior affected others. My roommates asked me to talk to them, but conversations like this usually don’t go well in prison. Instead, I prayed for these women to change their behavior and for peace to be restored, but things only got worse.
While praying one night, I realized I hadn’t made any effort to get to know my neighbors. I went to their cell the next day and talked with them. They showed me pictures of their families and loved ones. They apologized for being too loud. From then on, they waved and seemed happy when they saw me.
A few weeks before Christmas, they invited me to have Christmas Eve dinner with them. We also planned to share with one another spiritual experiences we’ve had. On Christmas Eve, we gathered together and hung a few paper decorations. We didn’t have a Christmas tree, but we all felt a peaceful spirit. After our simple dinner of tuna fish and potato chips, we shared our experiences. We all had different religious backgrounds and each of our stories were unique, but our hearts were connected and the Spirit was there.
April told us her mother had died of a drug overdose when April was 14. April lived on the streets and had a baby she placed for adoption when she was 15. She struggled with her own drug addiction, started dealing drugs, and was eventually sent to prison.
“One day I wondered why I was even alive,” April said. “It wouldn’t have made a difference if I died. No one knew I was in prison. No one would even know I was gone.” She then prayed and asked God if He knew who she was.
The following week, a counselor in the prison handed her a letter from the girl she had placed for adoption.
“God must be looking out for you,” the counselor said.
“I write to my daughter now, and she visited me once,” April said. “I don’t know much about religion, but I know that God cares about me because He answered my prayer.”
After April shared her story, we all sat quietly with tears in our eyes.
During my time in prison, I poured out my heart in prayer asking our Father in Heaven to watch over and protect my family. But when I prayed for my neighbors in prison, I began to recognize their divine potential and felt more fully the love and mercy of our Savior.
That Christmas Eve in prison was beautiful.