Every one of us knows what it feels like to wake up inside a prison we never saw ourselves enter. Not a prison of steel bars, but the kind built from fear, shame, distorted thinking, and the quiet suffering we carry alone. These are the prisons that don’t show up on a background check—but they shape our lives all the same.

And here’s the part we rarely admit to ourselves: most of the time, we don’t even realize we’re locked inside. We just feel the weight. The cycle. The hopelessness. Recovery calls this “your side of the street.” MRT calls it “recognizing your prison.” Scripture calls it remembering—remembering those in chains as though you were chained with them (Hebrews 13:3). Because the moment you recognize your own captivity is the moment you become capable of standing with someone else in theirs. Not with pity. Not with judgment. But with solidarity born from shared humanity and redeemed suffering.

I’ve lived in those invisible cells. I’ve counseled people trapped in them. And I’ve watched God use both literal and internal prisons to refine character, restore dignity, and reveal His mercy in ways comfort never could. So when I talk about suffering in solidarity, I’m not speaking as an observer—I’m speaking as someone who has been behind those walls and found Christ already waiting there. This devotional isn’t about theory. It’s about truth. It’s about recovery. It’s about the Gospel. And it’s about learning to see our own captivity clearly enough that we can walk beside others without superiority, without fear, and without pretending we’ve never been imprisoned ourselves.

What is the prison of your own suffering? For me, it was those moments where my life seemed to come undone – the rug pulled right out from underneath me. Locked in my own irrational thought process, false beliefs, and not understanding the reason I seemed to constantly be in this never-ending cycle of always finding myself in a place of brokenness, suffering, and hopelessness. There are moments in many individuals lives where they are in some form of a prison. And this prison may be a literal prison, or it may be a product of one’s circumstances. Whether this is a place of financial debt, broken relationship, physical limitations, disability, or injury, or any other constraining circumstance. 

Yet, the single most travesty within our Christian faith communities and fellowship is when fellow saints perceive those who are in some form of prison and are suffering – see them with a biased assumption that God has not favored them. That, they have committed some form of sin, or are spiritual rebellion. To some extent, there are those who have this idea that Christians suffering in their own prisons are lacking faith in God. 

However, let’s consider the Apostle Paul: he probably experienced similar judgments and perceptions. Specifically, when we read his epistles that were written while he was in prison and suffering for the cause of the Gospel. Early saints of the way may have seen his trouble as a sign of God’s own disfavor and wondered how someone with so much potential had fallen to such lowly depths. 

Now, consider the reality of what I am wanting to share with you today. Prisons today different from person to person – and are full of God’s beloved sons and daughters. Despite this reality, He uses these prison moments in profound and mighty ways. We see how he used Paul’s suffering and prison moments, Joseph of Egypt, John the Baptist, John the beloved disciple, and numerous other men within scripture. Most of these men were used by God in powerful ways and they have experienced imprisonment, captivity, or depth of loneliness and despair – and our Heavenly Father, in His tender mercies, used those moments.