I woke up this morning thinking about how the choices we make daily determine our future, and the road our lives will journey on each day after that.

When I got to my class, we watched a documentary film that Eve Ensler did on women in prison, which focused on mistakes and bad choices that they made...and how that has affected them. She really helped them get to a place of expressing their feelings. It’s called “What I want my words to do to you.” These women know they made bad choices—and the shame and guilt and regret is etched all over their faces.

Watching that, I had a lot of emotions battling inside of me. I never used to feel sorry for people who committed crimes because I felt like they were bad people who deserved what they got, yet watching these women, I saw a little bit of myself in all of them. I saw how one foolish choice that happened in few split seconds would put them on a path of regret for the rest of their lives. And I have the ability to make foolish decisions. I don’t think that a person who murders another should get off without consequences. I would be angry if they did. But what did make me angry in these women’s situations was not that they had to pay for their mistake, but thinking about who in their lives could have helped them before it came to a life sentence in prison. Why has society helped to raise people who have good hearts, but end up doing terrible things? Where were their parents? Were there friends around them who could have taken a moment to care and said something wise that could have altered their decision? Where was the church in their community? I’m sure that in many potential crimes there have been people to intervene. But in these women’s cases, there was no one. Yet, they still have to accept responsibility—knowing that is was their decision, and not another’s. They chose to pull the trigger.

Yet, even in the midst of justice being served, can there still be redemption? Is it fair to say that because they did such a horrible thing, they are worse than another or that they have no chance at salvation? Sin crouches at everyone’s door, and its desire is for every individual. No one is exempt or immune from the disease of sin—a disease that has been in existence since the Garden of Eden. Cain learned this well, killing his brother Abel. He had to pay for his crime, yet God still allowed him to live and to produce a lineage. Jesus died on the cross next to a sinner who was repentant, and He forgave him. The man still died...but he spent eternity with his Savior.

Being in a secular college, one thing we didn’t discuss was sin as a factor. We did discuss that these women all had different circumstances, and to put them under one big label as murderers isn’t doing justice to each individual story—each individual’s fight to not just own their mistake, but to also forgive themselves and choose to be a voice so that others don’t go down the same path. All of the women expressed how they learned wisdom too late. Many of them hated themselves for what they did.

Yet sin is a major player. But that isn’t going to come from high school teachers or college professors. That comes from the church—through the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I walked away from class today grieved over lives that have been lost to sin, and how as a believer, I so often don’t even care about another’s issues. Just like Cain, I ask God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” I try hard to keep my relationship with God vertical, instead of realizing that anything contained within myself will rot and smell and eventually corrode. The Word of God is like a double edged sword—cutting and healing…and that sword is not just for me. It is meant for my generation. It is meant for lost children who don’t know that they have been called to sonship…who are entangled in sin but don’t know that they have a choice to be free…that they can choose life instead of death. We say so easily that everyone has a choice and that different decisions could have been made. But in reality, does everyone really know that they have another choice? Does everyone know that the cycle that they have watched those around them walk in doesn’t have to be their cycle? Do they really know that freedom and redemption are possible because of the blood of a perfect sacrifice—and not because they have lived perfect lives? Is it fair that I would look with eyes of judgment on people who could have been me—instead of praying for them and choosing to develop my hearing so that I can listen to God’s voice more clearly concerning those around me?

Yes, sin is crouching and my door. But it also crouching at my neighbor's door. Maybe they don't know that, but I do. And I know that it desires to destroy both of us. I also know, though, that it doesn't have to--that it's desire is not as strong as the Father's desire to save us, which was shown through the sacrifice of His dearest relationship--His own son. Sin's desire is not as powerful as the Father's desire to show us true life--life that is abundant and free from guilt and shame--a life that can visit us wherever we may be, whether that is in a jail cell with so many regrets we can't even list all of them, of anywhere else...a life that can not just visit us, but change us. And because I know that, it's my responsibility to share what I know with others. Because that's what friends do. That's what love does.