You are standing at the end of a long corridor of barred doors. Trash litters the ground. Something is burning. All you can see of the men in each cell is their hands. Before you is a concrete desk. To your left a guard fiddles with some computer program, documenting prisoners.
To your right stands Julio. He is a Nicaraguan in his twenties with nice jeans and spiked hair. You help him set up a small sound system. Suddenly spanish worship music floods through the hall. Some of the men sing along. Hands are stretched out of the cells in worship.
Then Julio hands the mic to you. You fumble through the story of the lost sheep as he translates. More worship music. Then Julio shares verse from James and Lamentations. He reminds the inmates that God is with them in the storm and will never leave them. Several times he is interrupted by cheers and hallelujahs.
Julio prays for the men. A large cooler is brought in and you help pass out small bags of juice and packs of cookies. When you walk out of the darkness and back into the light of the courtyard you wonder what just happened. God is at work in a prison in Nicaragua.
