Prison Den – By Ruth “Phoenix Rising” Moise
Hello, empresses and emperors of the world. Thank you so much for joining me for another Rising Gem. This gem is called “The Prison Den,” and yeah, that kind of rhymes. But let me tell you, there’s nothing poetic about how the judicial system failed me yet again.
I am a woman who is incarcerated. I was pregnant at the time of my incident. But I’m here to tell you—I’m not the violent offender they tried to label me as. I am a warrior. I am a domestic violence survivor. I am a sister, an auntie, a daughter, a child of God, a wife. But above all, I am a mother of two who is learning to protect her children’s health and safety.
Yesterday’s Weight
Today I woke up with so much weight on my heart. Yesterday was a big day for me and my family. I went into the lion’s den, and I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. Anxiety filled my lungs as I sat in the basement holding cell. At first, I was okay. I was breathing. I was praying. But the moment they placed me in restraints, everything changed. The blood of Jesus that had been flowing through me was replaced with the blood of fear.
That anxiety and fear caused my heartbeat to amplify—the volume was similar to that of a football team’s marching band pounding in my chest. I kept praying that God would replace those emotions with peace, patience, and self-control. For a split second, I felt relieved of those feelings. But just as quick as I felt nothing, I felt something—those same feelings rushing back in like a flood.
It was as though the lion—Satan himself—was watching me, and I was just a helpless sheep grazing on some unknown, unclaimed field. The lion crouched behind the bush, waiting for me to run so he could chase me down. That was the game, the tactic he used each and every time. And honestly, I didn’t know any better. I didn’t have the tools I needed.
The Lesson of the Sheep
My Bible study teacher said something today that hit different. She was teaching on Psalm 23, verses 1 through 6, and she talked about how sheep are just… dumb. She said it directly, and she brought receipts.
“When you go to the zoo or the circus,” she explained, “you see elephants that know how to stand on tree stumps. Lions can be trained to jump through hoops of fire. Monkeys can be taught to ride unicycles. All of that. But when you see sheep? Where are they? They’re just wandering around somewhere, probably lost. That’s why the shepherd must always find them. If they don’t, the sheep will feel abandoned or will get lost.”
And y’all, I felt that in my soul.
Before the Lord became my Shepherd, I was that lost sheep. I was defenseless, directionless, reckless. I didn’t have the tools necessary to fight any predator that life threw at me. So what did I do? Snakes were fought with drugs and alcohol. Heartbreaks were met with adultery. Rejection was confronted with anger, deceit, and lies. That’s how I handled my issues before God, my Father, became my Shepherd.
See, God is the one who created me, and He knows that as a sheep—as a mature Christian even—I still have those traits of being a little dumb, a little reckless, a little defenseless. But imagine Him as my Daddy, talking to little baby lamb Ruth: “Come on, baby lamb. You got this. Walk and take your time. Gain your strength. If you run before you have the speed or strength, if you run before your time, you won’t be able to outrun the lion—your enemies sent by the devil. It’s okay. Come upon Me, your Shepherd.”
Even when we grow in age as church sheep, we will always need God because of our sheep nature. No matter if you’re a lamb or a full-grown sheep, you are always going to need God to guard your life. That’s one thing we’ll always need.
In the Courtroom Den
As I sat in that basement holding cell, the lion—the system, the state, the enemy—only saw my outward appearance, which was a woman in prayer. But I wasn’t praying out of fear. I was praying for strength. I was making sure God was still with me as I walked into that courtroom.
I didn’t have the tools of the world at that moment. I didn’t have alcohol to numb me. I didn’t have drugs to escape with. I didn’t have anything to hide behind. The only ultimate weapon I had was prayer.
In court, the state was the lion, circling me, throwing questions at me that I knew no answers to. My counsel—the one who was appointed to me, the one who was supposed to guide me away from the lion’s mouth—instead led me closer and closer to my destruction. The judge saw me through the lens of a lion, following the lead of the king of the jungle. Everyone left me out there to fend for myself.
Even though that race was run, even though I walked away with what felt like a bronze medal instead of a gold one, my faith was not shaken. Why? Because God Almighty has shown me glimpses of victories yet to come. Based on the situation that will be overturned, I will one day run with a shiny gold medal that will blind the eyes of anyone who stood against my victory—everyone except me and those who genuinely believe.
The Disappointment and the Fire
I know my family was sad. They felt more defeated than I did. But through my disappointment, I had to be strong. Deep down, I knew that something was yet to be done. I still wanted to put my faith forward. I still spoke victory into existence. But my gut told me that something else had to happen first—that He still has something He needs me to complete or achieve while I stay incarcerated.
I literally just started obeying His commands wholeheartedly after six months of admitting to Him that I was wrong, that I needed Him. See, I was let out twice before with no issues, no repercussions, no probation or anything. And I fumbled that. I messed up. I won’t lie about it.
I’ve been incarcerated now for three and a half years, and my motivation to start unapologetically creating content, writing, and doing this meal production work came from the women of DOC (Department of Corrections), who needed an advocate. They needed a voice. They needed a spokesperson. They needed someone who could lead them out of the darkness and show them the light—to remind them that they are not forgotten.
The stories I heard and the advice I learned from all the ladies up there were the motivation to write all the books that I have now. They are the ones who started something in me. And what happened to me a couple of days ago in that courtroom? That just poured gasoline on the fire. It made the flame bigger, brighter, hotter.
I know my race isn’t finished. I’m still running.
Prison Riots as Microrevolutions: An Extension of State‐Centered Theories of Revolution
Still in the Prison Den, But Not Defeated
So now I’m in the prison den once again. But I just want to let you guys know—no matter what it looks like, if God made a promise to you, one way or another, no matter how long it takes, that victory will be won. Why? Because God is a man of His word. And He’s not a human man either—He is the Creator of everything. He knows what we need, when we need it, and how we need it.
Ladies and gentlemen, I just want to tell you: don’t give up on God because of one little mishap. Don’t stop putting your faith in Him. That’s what we do here. Living in jail, that’s what we do—unapologetically.
My Truth, My Journey
I’m not perfect. I have made mistakes. I have made bad choices. I have hurt people, and I have hurt myself. But I believe in forgiveness. I believe in redemption. I believe in the God who takes broken sheep and transforms them into warriors.
I am Ruth “Phoenix Rising” Moise—a mother of two, currently incarcerated, who has found the courage of the phoenix to rise from the ashes. I am being transformed. I am on a path of self-healing, self-discovery, and self-love. And I seek to share my journey with other young women to encourage them, uplift them, and let them know that you are not your mistakes. You are not your worst day. You are not what they labeled you.
You are a daughter of the King. You are a warrior in the making. You are a phoenix rising.
This is my story. This is my rising gem. And I pray it speaks to someone out there who needs to hear it.
Thank you for walking with me. I’ll see you on the next one.
Stay strong. Stay faithful. Keep rising.
– Ruth “Phoenix Rising” Moise
Your next read: Divine Obedience: A Mother’s Testament on Bedrock Faith