Note: Adrian was placed in Administrative Segregation (Ad Seg) on August 18th. Friends of Adrian has no information regarding the reason Adrian was placed in Ad Seg, but he is rejoicing and praising God.  

Please keep him in your prayers.  He has been told he will be transferred to another facility, but at the time of this post there is no more information. The next several blogs will be a diary of his time in “The Hole.” He covets letters, so please take a few minutes to drop him a note of encouragement. His address is:

Adrian Torres T30064
P.O. Box 441
Chino, CA 91708

Bankrupt. Not only was I back at zero, but the sudden dive from what seemed to be a level road shook me to my core. The hungry monster of shame slowly consumed the rest of my emotions. Even though in slow motion, the drop was unexpected. I tried – I really TRIED! – to grab onto anything and everything as I was being sucked down into the pit, yet all slithered from my grasp. The more I fought, the further I descended into bankruptcy.

The last time I was here, I clearly embraced it and looked for God’s hand in every situation; but this time it was different. Not only was I in disbelief, I was stunned dumb. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t understand the murky and shady reason I was placed in Administrative Segregation (Ad Seg, or The Hole); no one could. Yet here I sat, nailed down by vague and just plain exaggerated evidence.

My bankruptcy wasn’t only about the hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of dollars’ worth of property left behind, but the precious ministry, into which I had invested so tirelessly of my time, energy, and resources. The church – my church family – made me a rich man. In love and friendship, I was wealthy beyond measure; the love we shared was priceless.

Being torn away from such abundance put my heart in neutral. It would not budge forward or back, no matter how much gas I gave it. This immobility was reflected in my expressions. My Botox-filled face lacked the ability to smile, cry, laugh, or even show anger. For 3½ days I was frozen. My inability to feel, or express, anything seemed to stop the rotation of the earth. Every single hour, minute, and second was elongated. Never had I been so alone, so unloved, so hurt, so betrayed…yet I didn’t feel anything. I was on “emotion empty.”

3½ days into my coma I lay on my bunk looking up at the bottom side of the bunk above me. The bunk bottom was crowded with gang names, curse words, and just plain nonsense. My eyes struggled to follow any order, but instead, each individual word clamored for my attention. The sheer numbers of them, fighting to be heard, were the perfect picture of my attempts to pray. My mind could not focus. I had so much to say to my Father, yet too many words crowded my thoughts. Each word, each thought, each topic scrambled for supremacy, not allowing any to be truly expressed. It was all for nothing. All junk prayer. All white noise.

My soul began to dry out. In my desperation, I closed my eyes, and my soul screamed with all the strength I had left, “Daddy!! Where are You??”

Like the rush of too much caffeine, my physical heart began to beat faster. My body instantly warmed and began to reflect the over-90-degree heat of my cell.  I thought I began to feel sweat cover my body, but I soon realized I was wrong. Hot and sticky I was, but the only part of my body that was sweating was my eyes. For the first time in 3½ days I cried. For the next unknowable time I felt – yes, I FELT! – my soul and mind emptied of whatever cement had paralyzed them. I could not wipe the tears away fast enough. The depths of my soul were cleansed, and the skies of my mind parted, releasing a never-ending shower of tears.

I don’t know how long I cried, but when I finished my emotions had come to life. I got up off my bunk, washed my face, and lay back down. I knew then that Father was never gone; He had always been there, waiting for me to call to Him – to reach out for Him.

I sit here days later thinking back to my time of emptiness. The shock from my sudden bankruptcy left my heart in some sort of a coma. I can’t explain why or how, but I did gain wisdom from it. There are probably many comatose believers today. A sudden event has shocked them into a “blah” state, somewhere between depression and hopelessness.

I’ve seen it in others, not understanding it, callously considering it a lack of trust in God, or just plain lack of faith. But now I know it’s none of these – it’s real bankruptcy. It’s a low so deep and so sudden I didn’t have a single second to prepare for it. Yet, if left alone for too long, this bankruptcy can be dangerous, for it can pull anyone into a bitter black hole of despair and shame.

Do you know someone who is facing this bankruptcy right now? Maybe you are that person? There is only one way out – UP! This person (or you) needs to realize that even when all has been stripped away, God is there. Watching. Waiting. Ready to flood your comatose self with love; the love that had always been there.

When all seems lost, and the once steady, flat road you were on opens up and swallows you, one thing is always true. God is there. He won’t be scared away.

Call out to Father! Reach out to Daddy! Dig down and find any cell that is still alive, and see that He Who said He would never leave or abandon you is true to His Word.

……….awake to the One Who never left……….                                                                                                            Adrian G. Torres

This blog was authored by Adrian who is incarcerated at California Institution for Men.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

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