From hopeless position to higher purpose;
step inside the Matthew Maher story.
Memorial Day Weekend is upon us again. From your position, that means summer is back at the Jersey Shore! The anticipation, the build-up, the planning--it's finally here. From my position, as a prisoner, this time can be very hard knowing that family and friends on the outside are going to gather at parties, picnics, and barbecues for the summer's official kick-off while we are locked away from it all...
This 'Prison Talk' comes with more appreciation and love than any amount of words could ever express. It is in this month of June that we are hallmarked into honoring our fathers, but this should never be limited to a single day. So I would like to honor the role of fatherhood while speaking directly to my own father, John Maher. Dad, I love you and I am sorry all in one sentence. I know you do not want me to dwell on the past with yet another apology because you have already forgiven me unconditionally. So, Dad, I thank you for your love and the Christ-like example that you unfailingly model for all of your sons. Your unwavering integrity, without spot or blemish, precedes you, and your accountability to God goes without question...
There is clearly nothing that I can do to erase what I have done to be in prison today. I know this. I also know that no matter what I do from this point on, it will never be good enough in the eyes of some to rectify what I have done. I know this too. I have actually been called a "hero" by some people for stepping up and owning my mistake. This makes me uncomfortable. It is hard to believe that there are many victims out there who have never received an apology by the person responsible for their reckless decision. I have also been called a "murderer." This makes me less uncomfortable for I am undeserving of the first term and have already called myself the second.
I've cried tears of shame publicly for what I've done and tears of regret privately for what cannot be undone. I've cried tears of grief publicly when my brother died and tears of joy privately for where he now resides. I've cried many tears of pain as a baby, as a teen, and as a man; but now as a prisoner, I cry a different kind of tear, one that expresses the words if my heart could speak...
Reflecting is a daily activity in prison, it comes with the territory. Not that it's forced upon you, it is solely activated by the inmate's forever wandering mind. As inmates mull over their thoughts, the results become apparent in their countenance. There are only two ways this can go-- depression or progression. So here's the problem: Whether we are reflecting on an ugly past or reminiscing on the beautiful "thens," we are missing the "now." The past is a dead time zone, as God's voice is in the present tense; and He is saying, "Can you hear me NOW? ...
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