Workshop at Wheaton, CMCA Conference, May 30th, 10 a.m.

Progressive Prison Project 

Innocent Spouse & Children Project

Greenwich, Connecticut 

C.M.C.A. IMPACT 2014

^{Friday, May 30, 2014, 10 a.m.}

Wheaton College, Illinois

"Ministering to Families of People

Accused or Convicted of White-Collar

and Other Nonviolent Crimes"

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div

This was the first White-Collar Ministry Workshop 

in history - thank you to all participants for making it a 

a sensational, interactive event!

Workshop Syllabus

1.              Introduction (5)

2.              Background (10) 

3.              What Makes White Collar Ministry Different? (15)

        A.    Star Gazing & Schadenfreude - Why we put the rich and famous on a pedestal, and then feel satisfaction or pleasure felt at their misfortune.  
               Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? - Matt. 7:30
               
        B.    New ways of looking at Poverty & Privilege - before and after legal issues.  
               He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.  - Matt. 5:45 
 
        C.    Putting our social locations on the table. 
               As a prisoner for the Lord, then I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. - Ephesians 4:1

        D.    Material vs. Spiritual - engaging in spiritual solutions to material problems.  
                Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body your were called to peace. And be thankful.  Colossians 3:15


        E.    Game theory - Making positive sum games out of negative sum games by bringing the inner city and affluent communities together to share experience and knowledge. 
                The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone." - Psalm 118

4.              Four Ministry areas (20)

A.     Direct ministry to white-collar persons going to/returning from prison (Progressive Prison Project).

B.     Direct ministry to spouses & loved ones (Innocent Spouse & Children Project).

C.     Assembling teams to minister to/advocate for the return of assets to innocent spouses & children after overreaching governmental asset freezes.

D.    Bringing the Inner City and Affluent Church Communities together in new ways – the real opportunity.

5.              Two Case Studies: (20)

A.     Direct ministering to a defendant in a high profile government insider trading (hedge fund) prosecution.

B.     Successfully obtaining a recovery on behalf of the spouse & children in the largest financial prosecution in a state’s history.

             6.              Questions & Answers. (20)

Conference Schedule

Todd Beamer Center at Wheaton College 501 College Avenue, Wheaton, Illinois 60187
THURSDAY, MAY 29TH
Noon		Exhibit Set Up	Lower Beamer Center
1:00		Registration Opens	Coray Foyer
2:00		EXHIBITS OPEN	Lower Beamer Center
2:00 -4:30		Pre-Summit Restorative Justice Forum & Training	Coray Auditorium
5:00 - 6:30		Dinner	Anderson Dining Room
6:00 – 7:30		PRAYER ROOM OPEN
6:30 – 7:00		Defining Moments video presentation	Coray Auditorium
6:30 - 7:30		SHARED IMPACT – Networking & Conversations	Lower Beamer Center
		Summit Prayer Meeting	Room 110
7:30 - 9:00		OPENING PLENARY SESSION	Coray Auditorium
FRIDAY, MAY 30TH
7:00- 8:00 am		Breakfast	Anderson Dining Room
		PRAYER ROOM OPEN
8:30 - 9:45		Worship/Bible Teaching/Table Groups	Coray Auditorium
10:00 -11:30		Workshop I
11:30 - 1:00		Lunch	Anderson Commons
12:15 – 1:00		PRAYER ROOM OPEN
		Tours: Underground Railway, Wheaton Campus
1:00 - 2:30 pm		Workshop II
3:00 - 4:30		Workshop III
5:00 - 7:00		PLENARY SESSION with DINNER	Coray Auditorium
7:00 - 8:00		PRAYER ROOM OPEN
7:00 - 9:00		SHARED IMPACT – Networking & Conversations	Lower Beamer Center
	SATURDAY, MAY 31ST
7:00 – 8:00 am		Breakfast	Anderson Dining Room
		PRAYER ROOM OPEN
8:30 - 9:45		Worship/Bible Teaching/Table Groups	Coray Auditorium
10:00 -11:30		Workshop IV
12:00 -2:00 pm		PLENARY LUNCHEON/ COMMISSIONING	Coray Auditorium

For more information contact: Correctional Ministries and Chaplains Association | 500 College Avenue | Suite 418 Wheaton, IL 60187 | Phone: 630-752-7085 | www.CMCAinternational.org 

_____________________

Progressive Prison Project/
Innocent Spouse & Children Project

at Christ Church Greenwich 254 East Putnam Avenue
Greenwich, Conecticut 06830

Mailing Address: P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883

Central Ministry & Office: The Retreat, Weston, Connecticut  

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
(o) +1203.769.1096

(m) +1203.339.5887
jgrant@prisonist.org
jg3074@columbia.edu

Lynn Springer, Advocate, Innocent Spouses & Children
lspringer@prisonist.org
(m) +1203.536.5508

George Bresnan, Advocate
gbresnan@prisonist.org

Last Stop Babylon in Weston Magazine Group, by Jeff Grant

LAST STOP BABYLON:

THE ART OF SURVIVING

PRISON
BY REV. JEFF GRANT

This is the article that currently appears in Weston Magazine Group's fourteen titles in NYC, the Hamptons, Long Island, New Jersey, Westchester and Connecticut (p. 66) "Last Stop Babylon: The Art of Surviving Prison," is my first book - I've posted some chapters on our blogsite.  More information is below.

_________________

I thought I was lucky–one of the chosen. It was 1992; I was a young, successful corporate/real estate lawyer living in Rye, New York. My law firm was located in Mamaroneck–about a mile from our home–and so was a restaurant I owned. I would soon be elected to
the local school board. I drove a big BMW, my family vacationed four or five times a year. I thought I was bulletproof. 

One day, while I was playing basketball with my biggest client, I rup- tured my Achilles tendon. In the course of rehabilitating from the injury, I became addicted to prescription narcotics. I never meant for it to happen– but it did. For over ten years I took painkillers almost every single day. Day after day, little by little, they cut away at my soul and ate away at my judg- ment. If I’d had the ability to pull back and look at my life from a distance, I would have seen the compromises I was making–the physical changes, the mood and behavior issues and all the money problems. I was miserable even if I didn’t necessarily appear that way–my weight had ballooned up to 285 pounds. I was vomiting blood from anxiety. I was spending much more money than I was making. As I took more and more pills, I showed up for fewer and fewer client meetings. 

One day, my office manager came to me and told me we weren’t going to make payroll that week. I didn’t understand how that could have been possible. I had been in business as a lawyer almost twenty years–and de- spite all the problems and all the madness, the firm had grown to become one of the most successful law practices in Westchester County. We were bringing in millions of dollars a year–but we were out of cash. I could have called a friend and asked for help–or called my bank–but the drugs wouldn’t let me focus. And that’s when I made my deal with the devil. 

I told my office manager to borrow the money from the firm’s cli- ent escrow account. She asked me if I was sure that’s what I wanted to do, and I told her to do it. And with two keystrokes of a computer, my fate was sealed. Racked with shame and guilt, my painkiller use
escalated and I was really out of control.

After Sept. 11th, I couldn’t think and couldn’t work–I had lost clients
and staff. I was in this pit of denial and looking for a way out. There were commercials on TV and the radio offering low-interest loans un- der the SBA loan program for businesses that had been adversely affect- ed by the tragedy. I called and they told me that I qualified for a 9/11 loan. But I was so desperate–and the pills were clouding my judgment so much–that I embellished my loan application to make sure I got the loan anyway. In a few weeks the loan came through and I thought I was on track to save my law firm. But it didn’t help–within a few very short months it became clear that I was going to lose my law license and was going to be disbarred from practicing law. In July 2002, I had no more fight left in me; I called my ethics at- torney and told him to resign my law license for me. That night, after my wife and kids went to sleep, I sat down in the big easy chair in our den and swallowed an entire bottle of the painkillers. I just wanted the pain and the madness to stop. 

A few days later I checked into the Acute Care Unit of Silver Hill Hospital in New Canaan. There was no way of knowing then that instead of my life ending, a new life had begun. I made it through seven weeks of rehab and started the arduous journey on the road to recovery. I went to my first AA meeting the first night out of Silver Hill Hospital. I raised my hand and said, “My name is Jeff, I’m an alcoholic and a drug addict, and I need a sponsor.” 

We moved to Greenwich about a year later–perhaps the wealthiest com- munity in the country. I had lost my career, my money, I lost our home in foreclosure, and my marriage was soon to end. But I was staying sober. One morning, after 20 months of sobriety, I received a call from the FBI. The agent told me that there was a warrant out for my arrest in connection with my fraudulent statements on the 9/11 loan. I made full restitution and was sentenced to eighteen months in Federal prison. 
67 WESTONMAGAZINEGROUP.COM

HERE’S HOW THE designation process works in the Federal prison system– the day your name comes up you are designated by your security level, lowest to highest, and given a bed. I had a security level of “zero” – so I could have been designated to a camp anywhere within 500 miles of our apartment in Greenwich. But on the day I was designated there were no beds in camps in this area–so, I was designated to a Low Security Prison. On the inside there was one former lawyer–that would be me–two former doctors, five former stockbrokers, and 1500 drug dealers. 

On Easter Sunday 2006, I reported to Allenwood Low Security Cor- rections Institution in White Deer, Pennsylvania. A guard came out and I showed him my court orders–he did not seem happy about my com- ing in on Easter Sunday. As we went through the metal door he spun me around, held my hands behind my back and slapped handcuffs on them. I had been anticipating this moment for over a year and not once did I consider that I would have to be handcuffed. At that moment I had my first inkling of how little I knew about surviving in prison. 

I was escorted to a bulletproof glass teller’s cage behind which was a guard who asked me for my “register number.” I had no idea what that was–I’d never heard that term before. He asked me for it again and when I didn’t know he came out and taped a number on my clothes. That was my Federal Bureau of Prisons register number, and it became my identity. 

Next, I was brought to a section called R & D–Receiving & Discharge– and it felt very much like its title–a place for FedEx packages. I was pro- cessed and then told to strip naked. They took all my clothes and put them in a box to ship back home. While I was standing naked in this cold room, on a cold cement floor, a man entered who I would later learn was the Head Lieutenant. He basically ran the day-to-day operations of the prison. He looked me up and down, and then asked me if I was the lawyer. I told him no, but that I used to be one. He seemed pleased with that answer. He then told me that there were 1500 men on his compound, and I was to be the only lawyer. There were some jailhouse lawyers working out of the library. He told me that I’d have no problems on his compound if I stayed out of other people’s legal business and I took no money or favors from another inmate. He told me that I was a short-stayer and he suggested I just do my time and go home without a problem. He asked me what I thought of that? I was standing there naked. I told him that making a few dollars from other inmates was the last thing on my mind. 

I was given an orange jumpsuit to put on, re-cuffed and marched across the compound to the SHU (Secure Housing Unit). It was a time- honored tradition at Allenwood to hoot and holler at new inductees as they were being led through the compound to the SHU on their first day. I certainly didn’t understand why people were hollering at me. The guards never told me where I was going or why. When I got to the SHU, it looked like something out of the worst prison movie I had ever seen–dark and dimly lit, with rows of metal doors with tiny holes in them. I was put in a rubber lined holding cell, re-stripped and re- searched. I guess they were satisfied that I hadn’t picked up any weapons or contraband in the 300-foot walk from R & D. 

I was never told where I was or why I was there. I didn’t know if this was what the entire prison was like, if it was a holding area, or how long I would be there. Inside the cell was a narrow bunk bed–barely wide enough for a grown man’s shoulders–a combination toilet and sink, a desk and a chair. And there I met my first “cellie”–a black man, around 50 years old, with dreadlocks down to his waist. When I came in, he didn’t acknowledge my presence at all. He just pointed to the upper bunk. I understood–that was mine. 

His first words came about ten minutes later when he told me to move fast. The sound of a cart moving down the hall meant we had no time to lose. The slot on the metal cell door opened, and very quickly, four covered trays of food slid in through the slot. I understood what he meant by moving fast. If we didn’t catch the trays they would have dropped to the floor and the food would have spilled all over. He caught each tray and quickly handed them to me. I put them on the desk. We sat on the floor, dividing the dinner between us. I had already decided that I was going to lose the forty pounds I had put on in the months I was waiting to go to prison. I looked in the trays, and saw there was a little meat of some sort, and lots of bread, potatoes and rice. Starches were apparently the mainstay of the diet–I asked him if he wanted my potatoes and rice. We became friends in no time. His name was Raoul. 

Almost everybody who came to Allenwood was first brought to the SHU, Raoul explained. There was no way to know how long I’d be in the SHU, but Raoul suspected that I wouldn’t have to wait long: first timer, middle age, and most importantly, white. I later learned that some inmates are kept in the SHU “waiting for a bed” thirty days or longer. I only had to wait 16 hours before I was released onto the compound. I was shoved out the door of the SHU without any other instructions than to report directly to the laundry. It was about nine o’clock in the morning, bright daylight, and my eyes were trying to readjust after having been in a dungeon for the past day or so. 

I got to the laundry and knocked on the big metal industrial door– my big rap was much louder than I intended. The door opened a sliver and a head popped out to tell me that I would have to wait for “the move” before I could gain entry. I had no idea what that meant, but after the door closed there was no way that I was going to knock on that door again. In about fifteen minutes, a siren went off and people started scurrying around all over the place. This, I understood, was “the move.” The door popped open, I stepped inside and I was first in line. I presented the clerk with the papers I had been given in the SHU– he sized me up for a uniform, t-shirts, shoes, a laundry bag, duffel, sheets, blanket, towels, a soap kit, and just about everything I would need to make my stay at Allenwood complete. Union A, Cube 25, Upper Bunk would be home for the next thirteen and a half months. 

I WAS RELEASED from prison in 2007 and had to do a stint in a halfway house, home detention and then three years of Federal probation. I also had court ordered drug and alcohol counseling. It was my counselor–a former Catholic Priest turned drug counselor–who recommended to me that I rebuild my life through volunteerism. I called my old rehab, Silver Hill Hospital, and asked them if I could come interview for a volunteer position–they told me to come over that day. I fully disclosed everything that had happened in the past few years. I was nervous. I figured that if my own rehab wouldn’t take me for a volunteer job, who in the world would ever let me work for them? 

Two hours later my phone rang and I was a recovery volunteer for Silver Hill Hospital. This led me to becoming a volunteer house manager at Liberation House in Stamford–a residential rehab where guys are sent in- stead of being sentenced to prison. Next was Family ReEntry, a nonprofit serving the ex-offender communities in Bridgeport and New Haven, the first organization that asked me to serve on its Board of Directors. The first project I worked on at Family ReEntry was with my girlfriend, Lynn Springer–who is now my wife; we converted a blighted inner-city block in Bridgeport into the largest privately owned public use park and garden in

68 WESTONMAGAZINEGROUP.COM 

the State of Connecticut. It is an oasis in the ‘hood–just beautiful.

All this time we were living in Greenwich and attending AA meet- ings–and I became known as the “prison guy.” I was sharing my jour- ney–going to prison, surviving prison, and staying sober through the entire experience. Soon guys who had white-collar legal problems were seeking me out, and since then I’ve met with over one hundred men in
various stages of going to or coming back from prison.

I had no idea that it was going to turn into a ministry–I was just putting one foot ahead of another. I went to Chris Tate, a Reverend at the Second Congregational Church which Lynn and I were attending in Greenwich, and told him that I was searching for something more meaningful. He recommended that I apply to seminary. I told him that I thought that was a little crazy–for one thing, I was a Jew (I’ve been baptized since). I asked him how I would ever get accepted to a seminary with my story? But, he told me that seminaries are in the re- demption business and that I should apply. And I did. I was accepted to Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, the preeminent urban seminary in the world–and went to school there for the next
three years, earning a Masters of Divinity.

A few months later, while still working with white-collar families
in Greenwich and doing inner city reentry work in Bridgeport, I ac- cepted an offer from Pastor Hopeton Scott at the First Baptist Church of Bridgeport to become Assoc. Minister and Director of Prison Min- istries. From there, Lynn and I founded the Progressive Prison Project and the Innocent Spouse & Children Project, the first ministries in the United States created to support the families of people accused or convicted of white-collar and other nonviolent crimes. Christ Church Greenwich has become a second home for our prison ministries, and is important in our mission to foster communication between the inner city and white-collar communities suffering in silence. 

We still spend the majority of our time in the inner city, but we find our work with white-collar families equally as important. These spouses and children are innocent victims in situations not of their own doing, where they have usually not been independently repre- sented legally, and often been left penniless, homeless and shunned by their communities. For this new class of victims, we assemble teams of ministers, advocates, lawyers, counselors and other compassionate people to protect them and get them safely through to a new life in a new family dynamic on the other side of prison. As I see it, the big- gest tragedy of all about white-collar and nonviolent crime is not how big the matter is, or sensationalized the headlines–it is in our failure to see it as a human story, with real people, real brokenness, and real families left behind. 

I received a call from a former hedge funder I hadn’t seen in a couple of years. He looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders; he’d lost thirty pounds, and had a smile ear to ear. He looked nothing like the guy I remembered. He told me that he had been to prison and wanted my help in finding a new career. Now, he’s in school to become a drug counselor. 

Most white-collar criminals can’t go back to their old lives and careers, so what choice do they really have? Why not embrace a completely new life, with new options and new opportunities? The most fortunate are those who figure out that their attempts to solve problems in isolation did not work, and that they no longer have to go it alone.*
69 WESTONMAGAZINEGROUP.COM  

Last Stop Babylon: The Art of Surviving Prison is my first book – some chapters have been serialized on this blog.  Portions of it were written from 2009 to 2012 while I was a Master of Divinity student at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York – it was then was submitted and accepted in 2012 as my senior thesis. Much of the thesis structure remains – the fall, exile and diaspora - albeit reorganized and expanded into a recovery memoir that takes place over the course of my life.  While it is certainly a recovery memoir, it is also a bible of rare and necessary information for people who are - or might be - going to prison.  I have tried to use a crisp, honest narrative style that does not sensationalize or sugarcoat my crimes, my punishment, or my recovery.  It is my own riches - to rags - to redemption story blended with specific and graphic details about daily living conditions, survival skills and spirituality inside a modern day prison. It is my attempt to offer hope and inspiration to anyone in need of a second chance in life.  - Jeff 

_

________________

Excerpts from "Last Stop Babylon"

we've posted on our blogsite:

October 13th - "Suburbia"

December 28th - "What It Was Really Like Growing Up On Long Island"

March 10th - "Momento"

April 17th - "Respect"

May 1st - "Fog Day"

_______________

Progressive Prison Project/
Innocent Spouse & Children Project

at Christ Church Greenwich 254 East Putnam Avenue
Greenwich, Conecticut 06830

Mailing Address: P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883

Central Ministry & Office: The Retreat, Weston, Connecticut

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
(o) +1203.769.1096

(m) +1203.339.5887
jgrant@prisonist.org
jg3074@columbia.edu

Lynn Springer, Advocate, Innocent Spouses & Children
lspringer@prisonist.org
(m) +1203.536.5508

George Bresnan, Advocate
gbresnan@prisonist.org

Rocky Mountain High, by TR - Guest Blogger

Progressive Prison Project 

Innocent Spouse & Children Project

Greenwich, Connecticut

 Rocky  Mountain High

By TR - Guest Blogger 

TR is a ministee from the finance 

industry who served time after multiple DUI's - he 

wrote to us in April 2013 after his first two weeks 

in prison, and in July 2013 upon his release. 

Below is his update after transfer of his

probation to the Rockies.

Hello Jeff,

How are things in Connecticut?  Life is great in the Rockies.  I continue to meet new people, spend time outdoors and explore how I want to develop my life.  I’m working on an album, fiddling around with a book idea, doing equity research, and occasionally trading on the information.  Most of the requirements from my probation will be completed in June.  I’ll have to submit to random drug testing and meet with a probation officer for another year but the “heavy lifting” is over.  My life is amazing and I do not feel the need to drink or smoke weed.  My biggest fear is to have a false-positive UA but the probability is low.


The one year anniversary of my release from Bridgeport will be in late June and I can’t believe how time has passed.  Upon entering prison I knew it was going to be a life changing experience.  I had the advantage of not wanting to use drugs or alcohol and the awareness that my incarceration was the “beginning of the end” of my commitment to The State of Connecticut but there was anxiety stemming from what life was going to be like inside those walls.


My optimistic assumptions came true.  The majority of the inmates were convicted of drug trafficking and theft but there were a few violent offenders that had committed their crimes under the influence of drugs or alcohol.  Being an addict, I could understand how their addictions lead them to Bridgeport.  Most would admit they had a problem but few were willing to get help.  Before I went to jail I knew I was going to be stronger by the end of my sentence because of my spiritual beliefs and the support from my friends and family.  I was saddened with the number of inmates who were not as blessed as me.


My focus since my release has been on completing my community service and attending alcohol education classes while figuring out what I want to do with the rest of my life.  During the last few months I've realized my freedom of employment, travel, and visitation was the linchpin in understanding that perception molds my life.  Once those freedoms were taken away I realized I had not fully enjoyed them because of the mental prison I built by placing monetary wealth before spiritual health.  Both are material but the spiritual gives me the gift of being content.  I knew this before I was stopped for my DUI but I did not believe it.  Prison gave me the gift of it becoming a visceral part of my being.  Once I made the conscious effort to drop the quest for money I was able to feel free to discover who I am.


The meaning of my DUI experience continues to present itself.  It has taught me lessons in acceptance and gratitude from which I could not have learned another way.  How else was I going to understand my attitude can lead me to success or destruction?  Jail worked for me.  It convinced me the individual decides how to interpret their own life-events and they decide how to use those events in a constructive or destructive way.


Finally, I wanted to thank you again for all of your help.  You gave me excellent guidance and support on how to handle myself during my incarceration.  Your friendship is another data point in understanding what Walt Whitman meant when he said, “I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.”


Look forward to seeing you soon,

TR

_____________________

Progressive Prison Project/
Innocent Spouse & Children Project

at Christ Church Greenwich 254 East Putnam Avenue
Greenwich, Conecticut 06830

Mailing Address: P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883

Central Ministry & Office: The Retreat, Weston, Connecticut

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
(o) +1203.769.1096

(m) +1203.339.5887
jgrant@prisonist.org
jg3074@columbia.edu

Lynn Springer, Advocate, Innocent Spouses & Children
lspringer@prisonist.org
(m) +1203.536.5508

George Bresnan, Advocate
gbresnan@prisonist.org

 

Letter from Prison, by Lee Gutierrez - Guest Blogger

Progressive Prison Project 

Innocent Spouse & Children Project

Greenwich, Connecticut

Letter from Prison

by, Lee Guttierez - Guest Blogger

 

Lee Gutierrez is serving eight years hard time

 in the NYS prison system for a single DWI

 - an accident in which someone got hurt badly. 

We had one week with him before he reported 

to impart some spiritual principals of survival & 

success in prison.  Lee's first two letters ,  

The Night Before Prison, and 

 In Prison for the Holidays,  

are two of  our most viewed blog posts.

Letter from Prison

 

Dear Rev. Jeff - 

So good to hear from you, your message is always inspiring. 

Thank you for sending the print out.  I appreciated your blog on the 2 books you recommend.  I appreciated your approach on spiritual healing, which you have experienced and what steps you have taken to become what God has meant for you to be. 

Your story starting with the comment from your Rabbi rings true, "Jews study and Christians pray."  Since my incarceration 5 months [now 9] ago, I too have been studying the Bible.  In conversations with my fellow believers of the Lord.  The message of God in the Old Testament has been revealed by laws as traditions.  The parable have opened my mind and spirit to the way God wants us to be and how to live with others.  Through our covenants with God and his need for obedience, we study His law for the 1st time like children.  A large part of the the Old Testament runs through the Torah; one of the holy books of Judaism. 

The New Testament for me translates that we should speak with God through his son, Jesus.  He will provide for us and all we need to do is call on him.  Through prayer we Christians have a spiritual dialogue with God.  We must follow his word and he will show us the way. 

I am glad you enjoyed my poems.  I am attempting to open myself up in many literary ways.  I do have other works in progress, hopefully they will have a similar effect. It brings me joy to think I am helping others in a small way.

God works in mysterious ways!   Living in the fast paced world a you do and spending countless hours to help others. It must be very difficult to squeeze in time to "smell the roses."  So these vortex storms seem to have provided the downtime you need to rejuvenate and spend quality time with your loved ones. Time is so precious and spending it with loved ones is what God intended.  Enjoy it when you can :).

Time here has picked up, since early January I have been attending the culinary program.  Starting at 6 am till 1:30 pm Monday through Friday.  My weeks have been gliding more at a pace I am accustomed to. That and with other activities; recreation, Catholic services and A.A. meetings.  My days are filled giving relief to my solitude and loneliness.  God truly listens when you open your heart to him. 

These past months have awarded me time to reflect.  Reflect on my life, to study the history of my alcoholic downfall.  I have used consumption to bury deep within me my spiritual shortcomings, low self esteem and insecurities.  Analyzing my childhood, it seems I felt insecure and self doubt at an early age. Later in my journey, when alcohol was introduced it pacified me and coated my spirit with false strength and pride. I am now piecing together my findings into a short story and will present it to you soon. 

God bless you and your crusade to free people from themselves, showing them a different view of life and helping them to achieve it.  I will write again soon and look forward to hearing from you. 

Your friend,  

Lee Gutierrez

_____________________

Progressive Prison Project/
Innocent Spouse & Children Project

at Christ Church Greenwich 254 East Putnam Avenue
Greenwich, Conecticut 06830

Mailing Address: P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883

Central Ministry & Office: The Retreat, Weston, Connecticut 

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
(o) +1203.769.1096

(m) +1203.339.5887
jgrant@prisonist.org
jg3074@columbia.edu

Lynn Springer, Advocate, Innocent Spouses & Children
lspringer@prisonist.org
(m) +1203.536.5508

George Bresnan, Advocate
gbresnan@prisonist.org