A Set Of Keys

A Set of Keys

[Jesus said,] “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free.” Luke 4:18

Candace didn’t remember being escorted to her cell, but suddenly there she was, sitting on the edge of the cot. She glanced around only once, then buried her face in her hands. How could her precious six-year-old be dead? He was always laughing at the silliest things. And he had just started school. He already had a sweet crush on his teacher. How could that child be dead?

And then this thought settled in: He wouldn’t be dead if you had been a decent mother and had been home with him. She clamped her hands over her mouth. Gradually, she realized someone was outside her cell. She wiped her eyes and looked up. A tall, older woman stood there.

“You go right ahead and cry, honey,” she said. “Bad news travels fast, especially in here. I know what happened. I’m sorry to hear it.”

Candace nodded.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” the woman asked.

“Yeah. Do you have a set of keys?” Candace asked sarcastically.

The woman stepped closer to Candace’s cell. “Yes, honey, I believe I do.” And she pulled a small Bible out of her prison smock, thumbed through several pages, and held the open book out to Candace.

“I thought you said you had keys,” Candace snarled.

“Honey, the keys in here will open the most important door in the world, and that’s the door to your heart. I had to learn that the hard way, and obviously, you will too. Here. You read right there, Matthew, chapter 7, verse 7: ‘Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you.’ You’re in a mess, and you need Jesus. He’s the only one who’s able to help you deal with this. But you got to ask for his help.”

She continued to hold out the open Bible until Candace, with tears streaming down her cheeks, stood up and gently took it from her hand. —SANDRA

Lord, I’ve learned there are many different types of jail cells. Help me to always look to your Word for strength and comfort and a way out of the prison I so often create.

I never knew all there was in the Bible until I spent those years in jail. I was constantly finding new treasures.

—JOHN BUNYAN (1628–1688), ENGLISH PREACHER AND AUTHOR