My Cup Runneth Over

I will never forget my first couple of days in prison. The sights, smells, sounds, faces...everything is permanently etched on my mind like it was inscribed there for me to  read and relive at any time. Those were dark days - endless hours of fear, despair, hopelessness and worry. I was locked in an 8'x12' cell for 23 hours a day. I was not allowed to use the phone, write letters...I had no way of communicating with the mortal people that meant everything to me. I felt that everything that I had built in my life was gone.  It's in situations like this where you've got to be grateful that you believe in a God - because for hours upon hours it was just him...and me. Admittedly, my monologue with my maker wasn't always respectful. There were a lot of questions that I felt like I needed answers to. I felt confused, let down, abandoned. And yet no matter how hard I pleaded, yelled, cried, whispered or demanded - it was clear, the time frame for answers wasn't controlled by my will - the time frames were all his - and that was unacceptable to me. One night, after days of frustration, I was completely ready to abandon all faith and accept the darkness of my cell. And just when I had reached the breaking point, small whispers from heaven started to trickle down - but from the unlikeliest of places.

Two cells down from me in Cell 301 was an old Hispanic man, covered from head to toe in tattoos, named Victor Ramirez. Every night, when the guards would turn the lights out, he would stand up in his cell and yell, "My name is Victor Ramirez, and the Lord  requires that I share Bible verses with you tonight." And then he would proceed to recite verses as loud as he could. Up until that night, I never paid attention to anything Victor was yelling - he just seemed like an old crazy man who'd been locked up for too long. But that night, the night that I was resigned to no longer believe, Victor's words found their mark.

In a loud, rhythmic chant his accented voice blurted out Psalms 23 -

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

King David's words, ones that I had heard thousands of times before, were finally significant to me. Finally, I was walking through the proverbial valley of the shadow of death and only a few short days into my journey, I was ready to give up. When Victor got to those words in Verse 5 "my cup runneth over", it all came flooding back to me. An idea - an idea that I had once been taught and had even taught to others - that my current circumstances had caused me to forget. I had been so focused on what I had lost - that I hadn't even considered what I still had. And as I laid there and listened to Victor recite more and more of David's words - my mental list of what I still had, began to dwarf the list of what I had lost - and for the first time since I had been locked away - my cold, dark cell was filled with the light of God - and I finally started to understand...

I'll always remember that night because it's the night that I knew that I had to start writing a blog - this blog. Ironically enough, a couple days later, when Sallie and I were able to talk on the phone, she'd had the same idea - I'm sure from the same source. In the beginning, we figured the blog was all about logistics. The sheer amount of letters and people that we needed to get the word out to was overwhelming. The blog would help minimize the unanswered questions that so many of our friends and family had. As months have turned to years, the blog has turned out to be an incredible journalistic reminder of the journey. Sallie and I will often go back and read posts to remind ourselves that all tough things do pass - no matter how hard they seem in the moment.

This blog has also brought something else into our lives - something completely unexpected. Believe it or not, there is very little information available to families whose loved ones are sentenced to prison - at least in Colorado. Prison just isn't a situation where there is some huge societal effort to develop outreach programs, brochures, etc. Bestsellers - What to Expect When You're Expecting - Yes, What to Expect When You're Going To Prison - not so much. Sallie and I know this first hand because the lack of information lead us to being very poorly prepared for me to go to prison.

I'm no web expert so I don't know how to explain it, but in Colorado, when people search for information about prison - Google's algorithms link many people to my blog. Keywords, page views...I'm not sure. But this has resulted in Sallie and I being contacted by family after family about helping them and their loved ones know what to expect. At least every week, sometimes every day, someone reaches out to us asking if we can help them. Help them understand, help them cope, help them regain hope. Sallie and I have shared countless phone calls, hundreds of texts and emails and some very special moments with many of these families. Each time we meet a new person or family, we are reminded of some of those dark times that we've had. But it has been one of the great privileges  blessings of our life to help and love these people - to shed tears with them - to add light back to their lives. In so many ways, it has made our experience that much more meaningful - it has been one of the most beautiful miracles of our life.

I think back to my friend Victor who yelled out Bible verses every single night.  As it turns out, Victor has had a lot of influence on a lot of people. I wish I could find him, thank him, hug him..I don't think that I'll ever see Victor again - at least not in this life. But let this be an open letter of gratitude to Victor - Thank You Victor. Thank you for helping me walk through the valley of the shadow of death that dark night in my cell...my cup runneth over.

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire, 

The Bachelor Life

As we approach fire season here again in Colorado, I find myself thinking back to all the crazy experiences that I had fighting fires as an inmate firefighter. Wildland Firefighters work extremely long and hard hours - with very little sleep. One thing that I will always be grateful for was the cold mountain nights where I was able to sleep out under the stars. I never fully appreciated the beauty of the night sky and all of its wonders until it was taken from me - admittedly through faults of my own.

But on those cold summer nights, high in the mountains, I'd lay on my back and dream. Dream about my family, dream about the future - dream about freedom. It was always hard to fall asleep after spending all day fighting fires. I don't know if it was the adrenaline wearing off or the feeling of being too exhausted to fall asleep, but I had plenty of time to dream deep into the night. Sometimes dreaming rewarded me with sleep - other times  it conjured up feelings of guilt and I was left fighting back tears of frustration and despair over being so far away from the life that I once knew. During the good dreams - I'd imagine the times when I'd be back living under the same roof as my beautiful wife Sallie and our kids. I imagined family dinners again, watching movies together and good old-fashioned date night. 

Never once, even when some of those dreams turned nightmarish, did I imagine that I would ever be living back in my old neighborhood, with all the familiar sights, sounds, smells and habits - in someone else's house - as a bachelor. I digress by using the word "bachelor" because I'm obviously still very happily married (and I believe Sallie is too) we just don't live together. There was a time in my life, many years ago, where the idea of living by myself in a house with my own bed, food, TV, room, etc... seemed like heaven. It is, in fact, Hell. 

I'm once again reminded that at every twist and turn in my whole prison experience there is something to be learned and appreciated. I miss everything about living with other humans - especially humans that you love. My "bachelors pad" is so quiet when I get home. To the point where I hate leaving work because I know that an empty house awaits. I miss the sounds of life - even the ones that I didn't think I liked. The kids fighting, the TV too loud, doors slamming, babies crying, feet stomping across a wooden floor, an attempted piano practice, balls bouncing - they are all sounds that I took for granted. Sounds that somewhere in my subconscious mind reassured me that I was a part of something greater than myself. The silence of a house devoid of life is deafening. And the things I'd love to see - homework projects strewn all over the tables and floors, dirty dishes, laundry, punk teenage boys stopping by to pick up my girls, bills stacked up on the counter - all tell-tale signs of LIFE - signs of GOOD LIFE. If you're reading this - take a minute and LIVE vicariously through me - don't just appreciate everything that is perfect in your life - appreciate the imperfection that is all around you, the little things that bug you - you'd be amazed at just how much you miss them when they're gone.      

One of the conditions of me living "out in the community" is to wear an ankle monitor. It's an entirely ridiculous phenomenon to have something strapped around your ankle at all times. I have definitely gotten used to the feeling of having it on but have not gotten used to the optics. Fortunately, for the past 10 years my work shoes have been cowboy boots so they cover up the device quite nicely. But the 1.5 hours each day that I spend at the gym are where I am on full display.  For the first few days, I was extremely self-conscious about it. I went to pretty great lengths to pretend it was something other than what it was - I would periodically bend down and set my watch next to it like I was trying to sync them together (it's an experimental FitBit I'll tell them), I researched diabetes so that I could "talk the talk" when I told people it was a cutting-edge glucose monitor, I considered talking into it (or towards it) to make it seem like the newest wearable Apple product (iAnkle possibly) but my flexibility wasn't sufficient to make it seem feasible to talk into... so in the end, I pull my black sock over it, do my workout and just don't care what people think it is. We can call it iFelon for all I care, it's a scarlet letter of sorts - and I'm OK with that because it means I'm one step closer to the end. 

 I really am so grateful to be where I am at. I am constantly reminding myself that there were times over the past year and a half where I wasn't allowed to go outside and look at the night sky. My heart is full of gratitude for everything that God has done for me - despite my shortcomings. So many miracles have happened over the past 18 months. 

And as it goes..."Gratitude turns what we have into enough."  

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire,