“The gospel of Jesus Christ brought me out of darkness and into God’s glorious light” (Matthew 4:16).

That’s why today, sharing the gospel—the Good News that Jesus saves—is my highest privilege and priority.

Romans 10:13 says that anyone who calls upon the name of Jesus will be saved. At the moment I cried out to Him, God shined the light of His Son into my life and saved me. And if God can save a dirty, old, self-centered drug addict like me, He can save anyone.

Let me share my testimony of Jesus in me. That is my story—if it weren’t for Him, I’d have no story of redemption to share. All that I am today is a testament to His love and patience. I am a trophy of His grace (2 Corinthians 2:14).

Before the day I called out to Him, I didn’t care about God or anyone. It was my way or the highway. Experience had taught me that nobody cared about me, so why should I care about anyone else?

My childhood was rough. Many nights, my Mom walked my older brother and me down a dark dirt road to a neighbor’s home, seeking refuge from my stepfather’s drunken rage. When we returned home in the morning, he always acted like nothing had happened…but the whole fiasco would play out again that night.

I went to live with my father and stepmother in first grade, but life there wasn’t any better. Dad had a new family now and treated me like an outsider. I was his only biological son, and the rejection caused pain and confusion.

Dad worked hard and was often absent from the home, leaving me with my stepmother, who didn’t welcome my presence. She degraded me, hoping others would laugh at me. I am 70 now, and I can still hear the laughter and her reminders that nobody wanted me.

My wife and siblings tell me to forgive and let go of the pain. I have forgiven, but forgetting hasn’t been easy. I can be driving down the road in my job as a long-distance truck driver, and something will suddenly trigger a childhood memory. I call those trips down memory lane “the 100 miles of regret.” Before I know it, anger starts brewing, and I get all twisted up inside. I’m constantly asking the Lord to help me. I’m a work in progress.

Years of rejection had me believing that I was worthless and unlovable. All the evidence seemed to support my conclusion. At 15, I started rebelling by talking back, drinking, smoking weed, and fighting.

I graduated from high school in the early 1970s by the skin of my teeth and joined the Navy. I spent most of my time in the military high, but since I didn’t stick a needle in my arm, I didn’t think I had a problem. I was in and out of the brig for all sorts of reasons, yet somehow, I managed an honorable discharge.

I came home at 22 and married a girl I’d dated since junior high school. She was terrific and loved me, but I was horrible to her. I would say, “This is what is happening; if you don’t like it, I don’t care.”

I came home drunk one night too many, and she said, “Hey Steve, before you pass out, my lawyer wants to know what you want.” I didn’t argue; I knew I was a dog.

Before the divorce was final, I moved to Lorain, Ohio, where I discovered my first god—my Harley. My bike meant everything to me. If it came down to buying a bike part or shutting off my electricity, I’d sit in the dark for days.

I ran around with different bike clubs and got involved in many things I shouldn’t have. I loved my new brothers—for the first time, I had friends who accepted and defended me.

One day, this girl climbed up on the back of my bike, and we began to hang out. But she was nothing more to me than a mere possession, an ornament on my bike. I had no capacity to love her or anyone. My heart was empty, and life was meaningless.

I purchased a new bike to fill that nagging void. When that didn’t help, I bought a house. My next idea was to have a kid. So I married the girl from the back of my bike and had a daughter. But the void remained, and our marriage ended in divorce.

To escape my pitiful life, I used cocaine. My friends and I would party until the bars closed and then return to my house to bring in the morning. Man, I hated the sound of the birds chirping outside my window at the break of dawn. Their gleeful sounds reminded me that another night was over and a miserable day of regret was ahead.

Many nights I used so much I thought I’d die. I’d beg God for help, even though I didn’t care for Him. Then I’d promise to clean up my act. Yeah, right. I kept returning to my folly like a dog returns to its vomit (Proverbs 26:11). I was powerless against those little white lines. But that changed when I made a new friend.

Rick was my coworker and one of my drug suppliers. We were tight. Everyone knew he—and not any of my 11 siblings—would get my motorcycles if something happened to me.

His parents, faithful Christians, welcomed me into their family. I loved listening to what they had to say about God. Faith hadn’t been a part of my household growing up. Their prayers and words planted many seeds of hope in my heart.

One Friday night in September 1987, those seeds sprouted and broke through my hard heart. Sitting alone on my couch, I finally realized the hopelessness of my life. I was destined for death if something didn’t change. Either I was going to die from an overdose, or someone was going to kill me.

In response to this revelation, I slid to my living room floor and prayed, “God, if You’re who they say You are, come into my life. I need You.” Incredibly, when I stood up, the desire for drugs was gone.

The following Sunday, I went to Rick’s parents’ church. There, with God’s Holy Spirit tugging at my heart (John 6:44), I prayed to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. My journey with Him hasn’t been easy, and I’ve made many mistakes. But every time, I get up and seek God, and He faithfully welcomes me back (Luke 15:11–32).

I began attending church regularly, wanting to learn more about God, but I struggled to fit in with those church folk. They spoke a language this biker did not understand. I didn’t look like them either, with my earrings, tattoos, and ponytail draped down my leather vest.

People didn’t know what to make of me. Some looked at me like I was a piece of garbage, while others were frightened by my appearance. One kid pointed at me and yelled, “Mom, there’s a bad man!” Another kid locked the car door as I walked by.

It was hard for people to look past my outer appearance to see the new man in me. But over time, as I kept walking with God and following Jesus’s example of love, humility, and kindness, people began to see Christ in me, not the tattoos on me.

I noticed Robin, a beautiful woman of God, on my first visit to church. Amazingly, she looked beyond my exterior and saw who I was becoming. She is one of God’s greatest gifts to me. We’ve been married now for 35 years and have five children and ten grandchildren.

I deserve none of the blessings God has given me, nor do I deserve to be used by Him. Yet He has chosen me to reach people for Him worldwide. Like 1 Corinthians 1:27 says, God sure does use the world’s foolish things to confound the wise.

In 2016, a God-sent dream led me to start a radio ministry for truckers called The Lord’s Roundtable. Being a truck driver, I knew this was a much-needed outreach. The internal burdens truckers carry are often heavier than the loads they move up and down the highway.

I sensed the Lord wanting me to broadcast live interviews with people He had touched, but I had no idea how to fulfill this vision when God gave it to me. I was a low-tech redneck with a flip phone. Not to mention, I spent most of my time alone in my truck. Who would I interview?

None of that mattered. It was what God wanted me to do, and He sent people to help me with technology and to introduce me to people for the show. With His help, we broadcast 500 shows in 90 countries!

What a privilege to help others come to know the Lord, the One who can rescue and restore their lives.

Jesus is a friend of sinners (Matthew 11:19). He doesn’t want anyone to perish in their sin or pain. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done—He can restore you today (2 Peter 3:9).

Does your life seem void and meaningless? Do you need to be rescued from what seems like an inevitable destiny with death? That’s not how God intends for you to live. John 10:10 tells us that He sent His Son, Jesus, to die a brutal death so you could have wholeness and live an abundant life.

Call out to Him. Let today be the day of your salvation (2 Corinthians 6:2). You aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, and even if you were, why would you want to wait? Nothing this world offers can compare to a life in Christ.

Pray with me, “Jesus, save me. Rescue me from this dead-end, empty way of life. Forgive me for my sin and come into my life. Show me how to live and empower me to overcome the things that hold me down. I accept You as my Lord and Savior. Help me to forgive those who have hurt me and to put the past in Your hands. Amen.”

If you prayed that prayer, let me be the first to welcome you into the family of God. You just set your life’s course on a new path, and all of heaven is celebrating your decision (Luke 15:7). You are a new person in God’s eyes (2 Corinthians 5:17).

It may take a while before you see the reflection of that new person in the mirror. Just keep drawing close to God; He will continually draw close to you, no matter what. The more time you spend with Him and renew your mind with His Word, the more you will be transformed into His image and become before others a trophy of God’s unfathomable grace (Romans 12:2; 2 Corinthians 3:18).

Steve Richardson is a mission trucker sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ. A licensed pastor, Steve founded The Lord’s Roundtable and is a chaplain for Truck Stop Ministries and Hope Ministries. His broadcasts are available at thelordsroundtable.com.