Why would a person leave his comfortable Florida home to live in an RV in the parking lot of Rikers Island, a jail housing some of New York City’s most infamous criminals? Only one reason—the love of God. That love can lead a person to do some pretty radical things. It did me.
Becoming a pastor and ministering to people anywhere, much less in a notorious jail, was never a thought growing up. My focus was on sports. I started playing football in the streets, but when I heard about an organized Pop Warner league near our home in Sarasota, Florida, I begged Mom to sign me up. My friends played in that league, and I wanted to join them.
Mom wasn’t comfortable with the idea at first but finally agreed. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to put me in organized sports. She worked three jobs just to make ends meet. She was the sole provider of our family, and I’ll forever be grateful for her many sacrifices.
My father was never in the picture, but I decided early on not to let his absence bother me. What good would it do to need someone who wasn’t and never would be there?
I got what I thought I needed from my mom, uncles, and coaches. My coaches were like surrogate fathers to me and the guys on the team. Instead of crying over my plight, I kept my head down and worked hard.
If performance measures a man’s success, then my plan worked well. I became captain of my high school football team, prom king, and was voted Best All Around of my senior class. Then I received a full athletic scholarship to Penn State.
In college, I continued to excel outwardly, but inside me, a sense of emptiness and insignificance was growing. No matter how much I achieved, that void only got bigger. It didn’t help that I was far from my family and friends and the comforts of home.
I worked hard to fill the hole in my heart by accumulating more accolades and doing everything I could find to feel recognized, important, valued, and significant. But my efforts were like chasing the wind (Ecclesiastes 6:9 NLT).
I heard the gospel of Jesus Christ for the first time after my freshman year on campus. A campus minister told me I was a sinner, and that if I didn’t repent of my sin, I would go to hell. His message made me very uncomfortable.
My whole life, people had only said I was a good guy. The executive director of the local Boys and Girls Club said I was a role model. You could read it for yourself right there in the newspaper! But this guy was telling me I was a sinner? By whose standards?
But what if what he said was true? The performer in me immediately started searching for a solution. I had always done whatever was needed to win this scholarship, overcome that injury, or earn that position; surely this was the same. What could a person do to keep from going to hell? My panicking mind ran wild.
My fear increased when, one day, something like a set of wooden shutters opened before my eyes, and I saw a fearsome vision of hell.
The man had shared the good news that God had sent His Son, Jesus, to die for sinners like me so that I didn’t have to go to hell. (See John 3:16; Romans 3:23, 5:8, 6:23, 8:1, and 10:9.) He told me I didn’t have to do anything but receive what Jesus had done for me, but, terrified and not understanding, I walked away.
I searched for ways to silence my fears for months after this encounter. I didn’t turn to drugs and alcohol, but I hit life hard in other areas. I had one goal: to satisfy my flesh. I was a selfish person, and I manipulated people and situations to get what I wanted, offering nothing in exchange, especially when it came to the girls.
It wasn’t until I became gravely ill and ended up in the hospital with some mysterious illness that I started thinking about God again. Lying flat on my back, I looked upward and offered a deal I was sure God couldn’t refuse: “If You get me out of this mess, I’ll read my Bible.”
God graciously restored my health. He even gave me the strength to return to the field and become the co-MVP of spring practice my sophomore year. But it wasn’t long before I walked out on my end of the bargain.
I’d been serious when I told God I’d read the Bible, and I did try. But without someone to disciple me, I was soon overwhelmed and gave up. Thankfully, God didn’t give up on me.
He sent an NFL pro named Todd Blackledge to Penn State to help me understand God’s love and gift of salvation. I looked up to that man—I would have shown up in the woods at 6:00 a.m. if he’d asked.
Todd spoke boldly and passionately about Jesus, straight from his heart and the Bible. It was like he knew God personally. There was no doubt in my mind that what he shared was true, and I wanted what he had.
Todd’s words helped me trust God and to realize that Jesus wasn’t looking for activity; He wanted me. I decided I was ready to lay down my life for God, whatever that meant.
When Todd asked if anyone wanted to stand for Jesus and pray to receive eternal salvation, I got ready to stand and walk to the front of the room, but then I focused on the other guys. I condemned myself, “You can’t stand for Jesus in front of these guys; if you do, you’ll be a hypocrite.”
I had recently been to a weeknight Bible study on campus with teammates I thought professed faith in Jesus, only to go to a frat party the following weekend and find some of them there. They didn’t live any different than me. I didn’t want to be like them.
I had almost bought into the lie when God brought my focus back to Him and everyone else disappeared. Once again, there was only Jesus and me. I stood up, walked to the front of the room, and prayed to receive Him as my Lord and Savior. My power or cleverness had nothing to do with it—the Holy Spirit drew me into a relationship with Himself (John 6:44).
In the weeks that followed, I fought hard not to return to my old ways. I didn’t always win that fight. Desperate not to fall away from God, I memorized a prayer in the back of a book someone had given me and repeated it daily while walking to class. It’s all I knew to do.
God was so gracious. Seeing my heart and recognizing my struggle, He put people in my life who could teach me about Himself, including His spiritual gifts and His Son.
The more I studied the life of Jesus Christ, the more I realized that His ministry wasn’t just about being kind to people or having a steady character. His ministry was one of power (1 Corinthians 4:20), and His power transformed people. Jesus made people into new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17).
It’s been over 39 years since I made that commitment. With the help of the Lord, His Spirit, and other believers, I have built a solid foundation that has lasted through many trials (Matthew 7:24–27), including a ten-year career in the National Football League (NFL).
The Pittsburgh Steelers drafted me as a defensive lineman in 1987. I later moved to the Washington Redskins in 1991, where I played for Joe Gibbs and was blessed to win Super Bowl XXVI. I also played in the Pro Bowl in 1993 before retiring in 1996. I am grateful God revealed Himself before I entered the NFL.
I remember the day God reminded me not to attach myself to the identity of a professional athlete, whispering to my heart: “Build a life in My Son, not in the NFL.” I wasn’t to seek man’s applause or worldly offerings. I was to live for the audience of one above me—my heavenly Father—not the audience of thousands in front of me. I wasn’t to feel entitled to special treatment or privileges because of my success, nor should I be disrespectful.
The NFL wasn’t my golden ticket to a better life—it was a platform the Father was giving me to be a witness for Him. I was to humbly pursue excellence in all my dealings with players, coaches, fans, and my family.
My humility was tested when, in my second year in the NFL, a number-one draft pick joined the team and began aiming for my spot. I had a choice—I could be a Christlike example to this guy and treat him with kindness and respect, or I could seek to undermine him to secure my position. I chose the way of love.
From the minute he entered the program, I served him by helping him learn plays. I gave him all he needed to be successful, but I also gave my all to honor the talents the Father gave me on that field (Colossians 3:23).
I learned that you can push for someone else’s success while at the same time pursuing what the Father would have for you. I let go of the idea that I had to protect something and trusted the Father with the results and what He had for me. In the end, the position remained mine.
One day, I was in the gym preparing for an impending battle on the gridiron when this guy approached. He sat on a nearby weight bench and poured his life out to me, sharing how miserable and empty he felt despite having money, a wife, and a fancy car.
I was shocked. I mean, 70,000 people were waiting for us in the stands, and this was when he chose to bare his soul? I couldn’t ignore the opportunity God was giving me, though. The field could never be more important than a person’s life.
After speaking for a while, we prayed together, and this man received Jesus as His Lord and Savior. We experienced victory before we even stepped on the field that day.
God blessed me abundantly since my time in the NFL. He gave me a beautiful wife, four children, and a successful career and ministry. I found that as I focused on serving God and others and living a life of excellence for His glory, God consistently gave me the desires of my heart and opened more doors of opportunity (Psalm 37:4; Matthew 6:33). He even gave me a gift I never knew I needed—a Father.
That happened one weekend in the off-season. My wife and I had made our usual 3.5 hour trip from Pittsburgh back to State College, Pennsylvania, to participate in leadership training with the pastor of the church we attended. As was our custom, we all gathered in a circle for prayer. Suddenly, I collapsed to the floor in a fetal position and began to cry uncontrollably.
I could feel the eyes of everyone around me, watching, and thought to myself, What are you doing down here? Why are you crying?
Concerned, my pastor leaned in and asked if I was okay. I struggled to regain my composure, but all I could do was wail, “I never had a father! I never had a father! I never had a father!”
The words caught me by surprise. As far as I knew, I’d never cared about not having a father. I’d learned early not to need one. But God knew otherwise, and He was about to break down the buffer of protection I had built around my heart with people’s attention and the distraction of places and things to reach the orphan within who longed to be loved.
“God says He will father you.” Pastor’s words got my attention. God wanted to father me? I had heard Him referred to as a father in the Bible, but it had never occurred to me that God wanted to father me in a personal way.
Since this revelation, my life has not been the same. Stepping into a relationship with God as my Father brought me into my destiny.
You see, I wasn’t created for the NFL or to have a successful ministry. I wasn’t designed to do great things or be active in the church or even lead others to Jesus. Those things are part of my life, and they are good. But they aren’t why I exist.
The Father created me so I could love Him and He could love me. His number one desire is to be a Father to His children.
Think about it. When God, who needed nothing, put His hands in the dirt and created humans, it was for one reason: relationship. God breathed life into Adam not because He needed an extra set of hands and feet. God needed nothing. He created Adam and Eve for the pleasure it would give God to love them. That’s why He created you too!
I now have the great privilege of sharing this love revelation with incarcerated men on Rikers Island. God first led me to minister there on June 13, 2022. Since then, I’ve commuted from Orlando to New York and lived in an RV in the jail parking lot to help young men discover their true identity. Only the Father could have led me there.
At first, it was hard for the guys to trust me, which is entirely understandable given the trauma they’ve been through. Most had never had a male visit them during their incarceration. None had ever had a man look them in the eye and say, I love you. It took courage for them to trust me, as they had all experienced abandonment, abuse, and neglect.
It’s been miraculous to watch the Father’s love unite these men from different blocks, gangs, and streets. He has made us family through our faith in the sacrifice of His Son. We have all found hope for a different life through relationship with God as our Father.
We don’t find freedom by suppressing the need for a father, nor can we find it by working hard to prove we can succeed without one. I accomplished at the highest level and still felt empty. The journey to freedom begins when we acknowledge our need for a father, confess how the lack of a father impacted us, and then forgive our fathers.
Here’s how that process played out for me. I had to admit that I needed a father to tell me he loved and cared for me, that I was worth it, and that he was proud of me. I had to confess that not having that father had led me to live, act, and treat people in specific ways. Then I had to release my father from the debt I felt he owed me. I had to forgive him.
Only through acknowledging, confessing, and forgiving could the orphan in me find healing and experience the abundant life my heavenly Father offered (John 10:10).
I don’t know what your relationship with your father is like. Maybe you’ve never seen his face. Maybe he was in the picture but his presence brought only pain. Either way, it’s okay—God wants to father you, too.
Having or not having a father isn’t the period in your life; it is a comma. Don’t let Satan torment you with the trauma of not having parents, and don’t let him trick you into making your father (or mother) your identity. Satan will try to convince you that all you need is a good set of parents to be okay. The problem with that is you can be a son or daughter of an earthly father or mother and still feel unloved or not good enough.
Your identity is not found in being the child of a human person; it is found in the love of your Father in heaven, in being His child. And, no matter what, your heavenly Father’s arms are open wide, ready to welcome you home (Luke 15:11–32).
Come to Him. Let the love of God break down the barriers of protection you’ve built around your heart so that the orphan in you can find healing. The One who created you wants to love and know you, and He wants to be loved and known by you too.
When you grasp this truth, you’ll discover your purpose in life, and everything will change.
TIM JOHNSON is the senior pastor of Orlando World Outreach Center and founder of Orlando Serve Foundation. Since retiring from the NFL, Pastor Tim has pioneered various ministries worldwide, connecting people to God and one another and equipping them to serve in their local communities. He has also led a life-transforming outreach at Rikers Island for incarcerated men ages 18 to 21.
