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Krystin Williams (left) and Lisa Thomas, both battled addictions; now look to better days, thanks to New Vision.
A painting with an inspirational Bible verse hangs in Krystin Williams' bedroom |
Tomorrow, Christians celebrate new life.
In area churches, sermons will retell a familiar story: On Good Friday, Jesus died. Three days later, he came back to life.
Most Christians believe his death and resurrection follow a heavenly plan to redeem, or save, mankind.
Christian Scriptures say everyone is trapped by sin and death. They believe Christ's crucifixion atones for those sins.
This redemption, many say, brings two types of new life: a chance at heaven and peace of mind while on Earth. On Easter, Christians remember these forms of resurrection.
For those who carry the redemption message to area jail inmates, Easter is a time to reflect on an idea that salvation is available to everyone.
"There is no amount of sin we can do that God gives up on us. We've just got to keep repenting," said Jack Richards, one of two chaplains at the Rappahannock Regional Jail in Stafford County.
He said redemption takes sincerity, humility, and meeting God one-on-one.
LISA THOMAS: 'PLANS
But seeking redemption can be hard, said Lisa Thomas, who runs New Vision, a residential program for women ex-offenders in Fredericksburg.
Some people have to get to the point where their choices are change or death, she said.
Thomas said she discovered redemption 17 years ago as a drug addict and ex-convict. Since then, she has watched countless women turn their lives around.
She finds the Easter story both universal and particularly personal.
Thomas and a woman who recently came to New Vision were willing to share their redemption stories.
Thomas always believed God made two kinds of people: good and bad. And she knew exactly which kind she was.
She started drinking in middle school and soon worked her way to pot and then crack cocaine.
"You exist just to get that next hit or that next fix," she said.
And 18 years ago, Thomas lived on the streets of Washington and road the Metro to keep warm. She sold her body and wrote bad checks to get the money for drugs.
She attempted both suicide and rehab. And then she got arrested for forgery.
Thomas had been raised Christian, attended church and heard stories of Jesus. She knew he healed people, but assumed that was just for "good people."
One day, after her release from jail, she was driving down the road, listening to a religious tape. It was a message she'd heard a hundred times before: Jesus heals. She pulled over and screamed, "OK, do it now!"
She felt immediate peace.
Thomas began attending church, read the Bible and discovered something that amazed her: In the New Testament, Jesus didn't just hang out with the good people. You could usually find him with the sinners.
Thomas struggled to overcome a $1,500 a week crack habit and worked hard to believe in redemption, a concept she found difficult to swallow at first.
Now, she uses her own life to explain the idea to the women she works with. In 17 years, Thomas went from a convict and prostitute to a wife, mother and director of the nonprofit New Vision center.
She also points to the Scripture on a wooden beam above her desk in her office at New Vision's transitional home on William Street in Fredericksburg, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" That verse, Jeremiah 29:11, is the motto for New Vision.
She reminds the women there is a plan when they get tempted to fall back into addiction. For her, the best way to move forward is to keep a relationship with Jesus, through prayer and studying Scriptures, she said.
KRYSTIN WILLIAMS:
Thomas keeps a lump of coal and a large diamond on her desk to teach the concept of redemption. She recently showed the two objects to one of the women at New Vision, Krystin Williams.
Under intense heat and pressure, coal becomes a diamond, Thomas told Williams, who's lived at the transitional house since November.
Redemption means taking something dark and transforming it into something that sparkles like a multifaceted diamond
"Them facets are shining, baby," Thomas said about Williams, 25.
When Thomas first met Williams more than a year ago, she said it was a different scenario. Then, Williams was looking for redemption, but didn't know how to find it--or even if it was a possibility for a homeless drug addict.
She had started smoking pot at 13. At 17, she got hooked on heroin. At 18, she went to jail for the first time. For the next five years, she bounced from jail to rehab and back to her addictions.
In 2005, her third stint behind bars and first time at Fluvanna Women's Correctional Center, Williams first turned to Jesus. She had occasionally attended church as a teen, and she'd heard other inmates talk about their faith. She wanted something better for her life.
"I just felt desperate," she said. "I needed a change."
She started going to church and reading the Scriptures. But when she got out, in 2006, the pull of drugs proved too strong. She had a baby and thought that would inspire her to get clean.
Within months, she felt "spiritually dead." She couldn't stop using drugs, lost custody of her daughter and entered rehab but left feeling lonely and scared.
She straightened out for a while, but guilt and anxiety soon had her spiraling out of control. Out on bond for forging checks, Williams ran to Richmond, where she turned back to drugs and alcohol. Living out of her car, she spent most of her time hunting for the next fix.
After a fight, she got arrested. She said she felt relieved when officers handcuffed her.
"I was finally in safe hands," Williams said.
She wound up back at the Rappahannock Regional Jail where she met Thomas, which she now says saved her.
"I knew I needed help, needed guidance," Williams said.
She heard Thomas talk about the transitional house and felt it would be the perfect option when she got out of jail. She has lived there since November. Williams now holds a job, recently saw her daughter for the first time in more than a year. She's trying to restore her health after years of drug use and to get her life back on track.
She said she no longer feels the urges to get high but knows they could come back. She tries to get strong by praying, reading the Bible and attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings several times a week.
Over her bed, she keeps a painting with the same verse that is over Thomas' desk. She remembers that once she couldn't believe there could be a plan for her life. But now she feels there is one. She looks forward to discovering it.
"Redemption just means freedom," Williams said. "Freedom from the person I was, from the bondage of addiction, self-will and ego, freedom from being scared all the time."
Amy Flowers Umble:
Email: aumble@freelancestar.com
| The nonprofit program for area women transitioning from jails and prisons started four years ago.
Its goal is to reduce recidivism by helping women with food, shelter, health care, education, training and assistance finding a job. Staff members meet women before they leave the jails and work with them after. In November, the group opened a transitional home in Fredericksburg. Two women live there now, and a third plans to move in next week. Women can stay for 18 months while they prepare to integrate back into society. The program is faith-based, but the women are not required to attend church. --Amy Flowers Umble |
