A Message to My Incarcerated Friends at Mabel Bassett

This month I was honored to write a message to my incarcerated friends at Mabel Bassett Correctional Center, which will appear in the August edition of The Mabel Bassett Balance—an in-house article that is distributed towards everyone residing at Oklahoma’s largest female prison. It’s made possible by an incredible organization called Poetic Justice who focuses on Prison Journalism and Poetry, giving a voice and an artistic outlet to those who otherwise would not have one. I was honored! This was what I came up with:

To my friends at Mabel Bassett,

Do you remember getting picked last for kickball in elementary?

Or maybe the sting of your first “No,” after pouring your heart into a crumpled-up note asking, “Will you go out with me?”

Most of us can recall some moment in childhood when our whole world felt crushed.
Seems kind of silly now, doesn’t it?
But it hurt back then, didn’t it?

It felt like everything was falling apart.
Like life would never be the same.
Like we were ruined.

All that was… was a snapshot.
A single frame.
It wasn’t the whole story.

When we look back on our lives, we often recall them as a series of snapshots.
One memory rises to the top while others fade into the background.
But life doesn’t actually work like that.

Life is a story.
A moving reel.

Much like an old movie reel, each snapshot—each frame—is strung together to form something compelling.
Something larger.

But if you pull out just one of those snapshots—just one still image—depending on which one, it might look horrific.

Dread.
Trauma.
Worst of all—hopelessness.

It might even look like the end.

But that’s not the full story, is it?

It’s just a snapshot.

If you asked me my favorite scene from my favorite movie, The Lord of the Rings, I might tell you it’s when Samwise Gamgee picks up Frodo and carries him up the lava-filled slopes of Mount Doom—eruptions everywhere, fire raining from the sky.

That scene might seem terrifying on its own.
But that’s not the story.

It’s just a snapshot.

When the reel plays out, we see that Sam and Frodo do make it to the top.
The ring is destroyed.
Peace returns to Middle-earth.

And that’s the message I want to share:

Your situation right now—as trying, as heavy, or as hopeless as it might feel—is not your whole story.

It’s just a snapshot.

We all have snapshots we wish we could forget.
Moments we caused… or moments caused by others.

And if we freeze the frame on one of those scenes, it can feel like the end of the story.
But it’s not.

The point is this: Don’t get caught up in the snapshot.

It’s just a glance.
A frame.
A flicker of time.

But it is not your entire story.
And it’s certainly not your eternity.

Every day we wake up, we get to help shape the story.
We’re not that kid picked last for kickball anymore—how silly it would be to carry that moment around like it still defines us.

Your time during incarceration—or whatever hardship you’re facing—is not the full story.
It’s a mere snapshot.

And how tragic it would be to surrender control of your story—to lose hope—because of one painful scene.

All the best stories have moments of sadness, despair, and fear.
But those moments aren’t the story.

In fact, they only serve to make the full story all the more better—often, all the more lovely and meaningful.

Tomorrow, you get to wake up and toss that god-forsaken ring into the fire—once and for all… if you so desire.

You’re the director now.
Your story can be as beautiful as you choose to make it.

Don’t let the frame fool you.
Don’t get stuck in a single moment of despair.

It’s just a snapshot, my friends.

You’re all telling a beautiful story—or at least, you have that option.

Don’t let today get you down.
Tomorrow the sun will rise, and your story will continue.

Make it a good one, dear friends…
You have that eternal option.

—JB