Dragon Breath
Magical! A prism of color exploded, and now danced with glee. The once beat-down and filthy had been awakened, lifted, cleansed and polished. What was being choked, causing a slow death, was now free from Hades' grip. The party that spontaneously erupted was much needed. Magical, I tell you; it was pure magic.
Landing in the Administrative Segregation Unity (aka the hole) means also not having all the luxury items to which you have become accustomed in the other units. As a child I didn't have the means to care for my teeth regularly; the results were cavities and lots of fillings. As a teen and young adult I did the best I could to maintain good oral hygiene. But when I came to prison, I realized that the majority of inmates had missing teeth, and the ones that still hung on for dear life were ugly and scary.
I made a promise to myself that I would do whatever it took to provide my mouth with the best care possible, provided such care was available. I flossed daily, brushed two to three times a day and visited the dentist regularly. This is a true luxury, even for an inmate like me.
But in the hole I could not keep that promise. The second I was thrown in, a roll of musky, gray-brown linen was given to me, along with one roll of toilet paper, and one small bar of soap. Glaring in their absence were a toothbrush and toothpaste.
For a day and a half I brushed my teeth with water and my chubby finger. I don't know why I kept doing it, because it didn't help. My teeth began to build up some sort of film, and my breath could melt the paint off the walls.
At the end of the second day I was moved to another cell, still in the hole, with another inmate. The officer who moved us knew both of us and knew we would get along. When he moved us, he also provided two small toothbrushes. Both my new cell partner and I unpackaged the brushes and brushed away. We only had water, but the friction of the bristles helped scrape off some of the filmy scum that clung to the surfaces of our teeth. It was an improvement over our fingers, but it still wasn't enough. Our breath still put to shame the fire-breathing dragons of Game of Thrones. Deep down, our mouths and teeth were still unclean.
We needed toothpaste, but that luxury would have to wait for three weeks, until we could request some from the hole's commissary (store.) A few days passed, then we saw the officer again. We begged him for toothpaste, but he assured us there was none. Then he left. Later he returned with some pink tooth powder. This wasn't new to us, as we had seen it before in prison. We gratefully accepted it and immediately began to brush.
The powder helped to reduce the filmy creepy stuff, and helped tame our ferocious breath. It was giant steps better than water and fingers, but deep in our gum-lines' hearts we knew something was missing.
After a handful of days, through a series of coincidences (aka God's powerful hand) I was made aware that I might be able to request some hygiene items from my property, what was left of it, that now sat in storage. I put in a request and prayed for mercy.
APPROVED! The notice made me smile. When the property officer brought up my hygiene items, my eyes rapidly searched for the almighty Crest Pro-Health I knew I had. (Due to security, everything was squeezed into small Ziploc baggies, so it was a little difficult to distinguish the Crest from my deodorant.) But, at last, I figured it out and cradled the Crest Pro-Health next to my body.
Reaching for my thumb-sized toothbrush, I dipped it into the Crest Pro-Health toothpaste baggie and scooped out a glob. The second it entered my mouth my tongue shook with excitement. As I brushed, my mouth didn't know what to do. The bubbles danced their way around my mouth, scrubbing away all the yuck that had made my mouth its home. The paste wrapped its magical arms around each tooth and spit-polished them clean. A world of mint burst inside my mouth. My gums rejoiced with pitch-perfect song. Magic was happening, all inside my mouth.
After I rinsed the paste out, my tongue explored my squeaky-clean teeth and gums. I knew my mouth now had an invisible layer of protection-fluoride. I was sealed and protected.
My ministry has mainly consisted of men behind prison walls, but I'm sure the "inside" world is very similar to the "outside" world. So, I found it interesting how my silly oral-hygiene adventure was an illustration of the many men I've encountered during my ministry.
Everyone in prison wants to go home. No matter how macho one might be, a desire to go home never goes away. But most of them try to better themselves by using their own strength and knowledge. They tell themselves they will no longer use drugs, or hang out with the same crowd, but their self-motivation is like using water and their finger to brush their teeth. Nothing really changes. The desire is there, but there are no results.
Others try harder by enrolling in self-help groups. These groups do provide some direction and some discipline, but in the end they are using water and a toothbrush. Yes, the upper layer of film may be gone, but the problem is deeper. Because the problem is still there, the stench remains.
Another group turns to religion in their quest to find change. They will join the religious group that "sounds" more attractive to them. They get involved, and even appear to have made a turn for the better. But religion is only a busy schedule of manmade rules that ultimately leads to a dead end. It's like brushing with toothpowder. The film is gone, and the light mint helps to cover the dragon breath, but in the end it's only a mask. Religion covers the surface of a person, and gives the illusion of change, but it too is a dead end.
Finally, there are those few who give themselves to Yeshua. They receive the gospel and confess the Messiah as their Lord and Savior. The powerful cleansing blood of Christ makes them new, changing them from within. The Spirit transforms that man into a new creation, and seals and protects him. Heaven rejoices and places that person on the only road to truth. Change really happens. Freedom occurs. And it wasn't magic, but the powerful love, grace and mercy of God.
I don't need to repeat that this is my toothbrush and Crest Pro-Health toothpaste, because you get the picture. But one thing is for sure; there is no substitute for real change. Only through Christ is that possible, and the end is eternity in heaven.
Where are you? You can't change on your own. You can't do it with self-help. You can't find it in false gospels. Only Christ can do it for you. Ask Him today.
This 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. Enjoy more at
