Imprisoned by Freedom

Before leaving Albania, the Lord took me on a journey I will never forget during my “day of rest”. ‘Twas a casual sabbath in our seventh floor AirBnb in the capital of Albania, with my other three teammates. Lindsey and Kara decided to go spend their day out and about with God while Katherine and I opted to stay in except for a potential coffee date later in the afternoon. Later in the day Katherine decided she would stay in and sleep because she wasn’t feeling well. I decided I would just go bring back some coffee for us after spending some more time with the Lord. 

I felt led to worship outside, mostly to keep from waking Katherine, but our tiny balcony was filled by our clothes hanging out to dry. I realized the roof of the sixth floor extended past our balcony (a solid 12×12 foot area with a 20 degree slope at most with SO much room for activities). Ecstatic about my newfound space I crawl over the ledge onto the roof barefoot in my pajama pants, AirPods and worship playlist already in place. I hit my knees and the Lord met me on the rooftop in such a sweet and powerful way. I laid my heart out for Him and worshipped with complete and reckless abandonment. 

Once the sobbing and snot ceased, I gathered myself, filled to the measure with so much peace and joy. At this point I realized, although I was the only human on that rooftop I was not the only human invested in my activities. It appears an American praising the Lord at the top of his lungs on a seventh story rooftop in downtown Tirana tends to create quite the spectacle. As I look around I notice quite a few people in neighboring apartment buildings on their balconies, phones out, as well as a group of people and police officers gathered on the ground staring up at me. They attempted to talk to me but I could hear very little and comprehend even less so I just waved and motioned back towards the balcony in an attempt to explain I was going back inside. 

I proceed with my day, get dressed, and head out for coffee while Katherine sleeps, halfway hoping I would run into one of the spectators to explain just how crazy I was not. I meet a kind old wood-burning art shop owner, specializing in biblical pieces, along the way who insists on closing his store to buy me a cup of coffee. We sit down and, not two sips in, I get a call from Katherine, she explains the cops are at our apartment and they are requesting I come home, like now. I explain to my new friend the situation, he gets his fair share of chuckles and I rush back. I arrived as she and Kara (who arrived moments before me) were talking to four officers along with our AirBnb host and temporary neighbor. The youngest officer (26, we’ll call him James) thankfully speaks incredible English and proceeds to ask me what in the world I was doing on the roof that high up and if I was aware how dangerous it was. Apparently they received calls and videos from people thinking I was suicidal and going to jump. I explain to him I really just love Jesus and enjoy singing praises to the Most High, especially in the highest places I can find. We even told him about me worshiping on top of a volcano in Guatemala several months prior and showed him a picture. I also tell him I’m not typically afraid of heights and really put little thought into my actions earlier that afternoon. 

As we talk the officer next to me who speaks zero English casually pulls the pocketknife out of my pocket and starts asking questions about it. They proceed to tell me it’s illegal to carry a knife that size in Albania especially since it’s not a utility knife. I explain it’s not a weapon, normal in Texas, and I often forget I even have it. At this point they tell me and poor Katherine we have to go down to the station to give a statement and whatnot. While we are in the cop car Katherine explains when she was sleeping and mistook the cops knocking for the ongoing construction next door, and woke up to them and the AirBnb host in her room. They showed her the neighbor’s video of me standing on the roof with my hands held high and replied, “Yup, that is Jordan and he is worshiping the Lord.”

They put us in a small room at the station, with not much other than a couple tables and chairs, for the next three or four hours. During this time we proceed to get to know James as what appears to be half the station’s officers filter in and out of our little room. James continues to interpret for us as he writes his report as we get acquainted with the police force and hear about their lives and families. Katherine dives in first, sharing the gospel shortly after we arrive, opening the door for continued conversations about Jesus, God, Christianity, Islam, faith, and life. At one point all four officers in the room lit up cigarettes and offered us both one. I got to explain to them I smoked for over ten years, attempting to quit at least a hundred times, and Jesus set me free once I gave Him my heart. James’ face lit up with amazement at this specifically. It also led to me getting to share a large part of my testimony with all of them including everything else I had been set free from. Later he even FaceTimed his wife to introduce her to “his new friends” and she demanded he let us go before she even knew the situation. He asked if Katherine and I would meet his wife for lunch the next day to talk more and get to know us better. He was so incredibly kind throughout even going to buy us drinks and offering to buy us food as well. All the while Kara and Lindsey are sending us encouraging bible verses as our families back home, now aware of the situation, are praying for and encouraging us as well. 

After several hours they explain their interpreter is on another case and we have to wait on her to give our official report. As Katherine and I get brief moments alone we cannot stop smiling asking one another, “Who is this God we serve? What is this life we live? How in the actual world did get here, continuously sharing His love and gospel with all these people?” The interpreter finally arrives, we’ll call her Ava, and she is the sweetest thing ever. She leads us two into the head detective’s office along with the district attorney. At this point I realize two things: 1) we are being very politely detained and in fact not allowed to leave 2) there is in fact an open case regarding my knife. The detective tells us if I was an Albanian citizen, I would automatically be detained for three days as they analyze the knife and determine its potential involvement in other crimes. They claim “tourism” to be our saving grace but we both made sure to proclaim God’s hand as our saving grace. 

We proceed to recount every single detail, again, multiple times, as the detective types out the official report, asks questions, and Ava interprets while asking clarifying questions of her own. I smile all the way through wondering how many more times could we possibly get to proclaim the goodness of God and the love of Jesus throughout this police station. At this point I believe is where Katherine and I both realize the ripples and potential ripples of all that is taking place. This case report is permanent. “Zoti” (the Albanian word for God) littered throughout this report is permanent. The curiosity surrounding this case alone is enough to spread the story we are a part of like wildfire, inside and outside the police force, including their families. The peculiar nature and rarity of this case would stoke said fire. 

The official report wraps up later that night after about five hours of detainment. As soon as it’s finished Ava immediately asks us when we were both baptized and explains to us she is also a follower of Jesus! She continues to open up to Katherine about her life, marriage, and children while we encourage one another. Meanwhile the district attorney, who said not a single word throughout the report yet I felt drawn to, starts talking to me in perfect English and telling me about recent losses in his family. The detective’s office immediately begins to resemble a reunion of old friends. At one point he literally put his hand on my back and all but pushed us out the door reminding us we are in fact finished here. We rejoin James in the lobby and all continue to laugh and talk like old friends as we exchange emails, Facebook pages, and Instagram profiles. I have been to jail multiple times in my life and never did I think I would be inside one and not want to leave! 

We reluctantly say goodbye to all our newfound friends and all but skip out of the police station, through the barbed wire gates, grinning from ear to ear. Walking and talking, completely beside ourselves, we are yet again reminded of how incredible God is, how fortunate we are to have spent so much time detained on a casual “day of rest”, and how beautiful it is to know, in our hearts, the only thing we are imprisoned by is true freedom. There is nowhere we can go, or be taken, where God won’t also be. Even in the darkest and most unlikely spaces, we have the greatest gift ever to be given, the name of Jesus. We cannot escape his infinite love. Our hearts will worship him to the ends of the earth, and there is nothing man will ever be able to do about it. 

I am humbled by the fact that I always viewed the people behind bars as the prisoners. When in reality, those who put people in the cells are every bit as lost, broken, and captive if they don’t know Jesus. I am humbled by the fact that God would use us in such a bizarre and incredible way. I am humbled by the fact that I would ever expect anything less from the Ancient of Days. I am honored, and again humbled beneath the floor, I get to share this story, my story, His story, for the rest of my life. He is and forever will be, mighty to save. 

[Update: Our squad is officially in Turkey for roughly the next two months, done with debrief, and teams are dispersing as we speak! It has been a whirlwind of God on the move, in me, around me, and through me. Stepping into a leadership role has been incredibly difficult, transformative, humbling, wild, and absolutely worth it. Please pray for our squad and our time in Turkey. Pray God would soften hearts everywhere we go, including our own. Pray the voice of the Holy Spirit would be the loudest voice in every single one of our lives by a mile. Pray we openly embrace uncomfortability, abandonment, pruning, growth, and transformation. Pray we all grow in intimacy with one another as we grow in intimacy with God in ways we can’t imagine. Pray for endless healing and freedom inside and outside of our squad.  Pray protection over our hearts, minds, and bodies as we step into a country dominated by the one who has dominion over this world. Pray all we do, all we say, our entire lives and even our deaths glorify the Lord and sing his praises!]

“And I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before men, the Son of Man will also acknowledge before the angels of God, but the one who denies me before men will be denied before the angels of God. And everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but the one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven. And when they bring you before the synagogues and the rulers and the authorities, do not be anxious about how you should defend yourself or what you should say. For the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say.”

– Jesus

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