The first day inside he was screaming. Banging at the walls he ranted for someone to get him out. He trashed whatever was let through and begged for help. By day three he was hoarse from shouting and sobbed desperately for release, scratching desperately at the door. Months later his spirit was crushed, a pale shadow. Withered and haunted, whatever life left was draining away.
This is the life of someone whose cries of freedom had been drowned out by the slavery of routine and ritual, addiction and abuse, crisis and fear. Yet when he cried to the Lord …
For His Name’s Sake
da man cd