My life was almost over before I’d even learned to walk and talk. By the age of two, I had nearly died from eating poisonous berries, was traumatized by a big dog, and was revived by CPR when I drowned in a local pool. I’m sure my parents were relieved to send me off to daycare where I’d be less likely to fall into danger.

But they quickly had new concerns. I threw fits, bit my teachers, hit my classmates, and destroyed my toys. No one could calm me down.

My parents tried everything they could think of to straighten me out, but their punishment, born out of frustration, quickly escalated into verbal and physical abuse. The beatings were terrible, but my mother’s exasperated words hurt worse.

“You’re not normal,” she said. “Something is wrong with you.” To me, this translated to, “You are defective, flawed, and unlovable.”

When I was nine, my parents announced they were divorcing. The news was crippling, and I imagined I was to blame. Certain that my family would be better off without me, I attempted suicide. That landed me in a mental institution, but I left there in worse shape than before.

I returned to public school, but it wasn’t long before I was kicked out and placed in a special school for emotionally handicapped kids. I hated being labeled as different. It only confirmed what I already knew—something was wrong with me.

I carried around a great boulder of anger for many years.

Local gang members noticed me when my hot temper led me into numerous fights. I’d looked up to them for years, and now they were cheering me on. I became addicted to their applause; I craved it like a junkie craves drugs.

I joined the gang at 12. I fought and robbed anyone to prove myself and keep the applause coming. Man’s praise turned me into a brutal monster. The more recognition I received, the more ruthless I became. My insecurity and pride turned me into the devil’s pawn. I was willing to do his dirty work—anything—to get those guys’ approval.

But while I was doing my dirt on the street, God kept sending people to point me to Him. I wasn’t raised in a Christian home, but I believed God existed. Strangers of all sorts, even little old ladies, would stop to tell me about Him. My mom had grown close to God by this time, and she also urged me to seek Him. She took me to church, prayed for me, and repeatedly warned me to change my ways.

During one of my trips to juvie, Mom encouraged me to read the Bible. “Just ask God what He wants you to read, son. He’ll answer you,” she assured me. I tried reading, but nothing made sense at first. I decided to do as Mom said.

“Okay, God, what do You want me to read?” I asked. Immediately, the word Matthew flashed across my mind. I opened my Bible to the Gospel of Matthew and there, I met God for the first time. It felt like He was sitting in my cell with me.

Jesus’s words in His Sermon on the Mount cut especially deep (Matthew 5–7). God’s Holy Spirit dealt directly with me about my life, convicting me of my sin. For the first time, I realized how spiritually poor I was—separated from God and in desperate need of a Savior.

With my Bible still open, I considered following Jesus. But then I thought about all the fun I still wanted to have—I was only 15! Maybe I should wait. I had barely completed that thought when my eyes fell on Jesus’s words at the end of Matthew 7.

“Everyone who hears these words of mine and doesn’t put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand” (v. 26 NIV). That freaked me out. I didn’t want to be like that foolish dude whose whole life came crumbling down when a storm came (v. 27).

Not long after, I heard the gospel preached during a church service, and I decided I wanted Jesus’s forgiveness. I confessed my faith in Jesus and was born again (John 3:3; 1 Peter 1:23), right there in juvie.

I didn’t feel much different afterward, but my mom immediately noticed something had changed. She watched me walk across the visitation room to hug her and, fighting back tears, she said, “I see Jesus in you!“

After my release, I struggled to stay on track, but I was way too casual about Christ’s place in my life. I still wanted to do things my way. It wasn’t long before my old self and my bad habits crept back in.

With one foot in church and the other in the world, I fell. Every time I landed in jail, I’d pick up God’s Word again and start reading. My relationship with Him grew while I was inside, but as soon as I was released, I’d return to my mess (Proverbs 26:11).

One of my aunts told me to ask God what His calling was for my life. I felt the Lord calling me to minister to troubled youth. I found that ironic, considering my situation.

Things got a little better after my 18th birthday. I dated a good Christian girl, got a great job, and attended church regularly. But it didn’t last. I was stuck in a cycle I didn’t know how to break.

After I verbally abused and cheated on my girl, she broke up with me. I felt rejected, even though I knew it was my fault. Driven by anger and a renewed thirst for violence, I jumped back into the gang, rebelling against God and His call on my life. I acted like I’d never known Him.

But as I ran from God, homicide detectives were running after me. I was the prime suspect in two separate murder cases, and those officers left no stone unturned in their hunt for me.

God even attempted to reach me through a total stranger. The woman looked directly into my eyes as I robbed her family at gunpoint and said, “God still loves you. He still has a plan for you.“ The Holy Spirit spoke to me through that lady and shook me to the core.

In His grace, God was so patient with me. His love and goodness followed me (Psalm 23:6), and there was nowhere I could hide (Psalm 139:7–10). There was nowhere I could hide from the police either.

My reign of terror ended three days after that lady spoke to me. A swarm of police and a S.W.A.T. team took me down and booked me into Maricopa County Jail in Phoenix for first-degree murder and two aggravated assault charges.

A few days later, God woke me around 3:00 a.m. to ask me a question. “Can you hear Me now?“ His question reminded me of those old cell phone commercials.

“Yes, Lord, I hear You.“

His next question caught me off guard. “Who are you?“

“Umm, I don’t know?” That was true, but I had never admitted it to anyone before, not even myself.

“It’s time to let Me show you who you really are.” And on that hot August day in 2001, from my top bunk in an Arizona jail cell, I finally surrendered my life to the God who had relentlessly pursued me.

The Lord began peeling back the layers of my false identity, revealing that I had been living a lie since I was 12. I’d wasted precious time and caused unspeakable harm to others. I was ready to stop seeking approval from people and start living for something of eternal value—Jesus Christ. After all, He died for me. How could I not live for Him?

I’m done wasting my loyalty, Lord. I’m all in, I prayed.

Miraculously, the murder charge was dropped, and I was able to spend some time with my family before going to prison for 10 years for the assault charges in 2002.

While in prison, I kept my eyes fixed on the Lord and grew stronger in my walk. I had served four years when I was charged with second-degree murder in an unrelated case. I went back to court and took responsibility for my actions. I ended up with additional time, but it felt good not to run from things anymore but instead trust God with the outcome.

As I faced my victim’s family in court for the first time, the Lord revealed the deep pain my actions had caused. A mother, father, and daughter sat silently staring at me—the man who had taken their loved one away. I left the courtroom overwhelmed with grief and the sorrowful repentance I had read about in the Bible (2 Corinthians 7:10).

I spent the next two decades in prison while the Lord transformed me from a monster into the solid man of God I am today. It was a painful and complex process, but I had nothing to lose and everything to gain (Philippians 3:8–10).

I avoided prison politics carefully, but there were other tests and distractions. I had to be vigilant not to let the enemy gain any ground (Ephesians 4:27; 1 Peter 5:8).

My mother and grandmother died six weeks apart, and I grieved hard. My world was shaking, but I had a firm foundation (Psalm 16:8). Jesus was my rock and my source of support as I struggled with the depression and grief that followed.

I lost my father in 2017, right before I was transferred to ASPC Florence North Unit. But God had an assignment waiting for me there that kept me from slipping into despair. I leaned on Him for strength and forged forward.

At my new location, I worked for Chaplain Samuel Lee, and he became my mentor. With his support, my discipleship training advanced quickly. I also connected with other brothers in Christ who encouraged me to embrace God’s gifts and stay focused on His mission after my release. Men like Chaplain Lee and Richard Moore, another mentor for over 20 years, strengthened my faith as my time in prison came to an end.

In 2022, I emerged from prison a free man, not because the gates had finally swung open to let me out, but because Christ had already set me free on the inside from anger, approval-addiction, and many other things (John 8:32, 36).

I was released into the Men’s Discipleship Training program at Along Side Ministries, where a whole community embraced me with Christ’s love. I felt an incredible sense of belonging.

The Lord has blessed me in ways I never imagined, bringing a strong woman of God into my life who encourages me daily. I have a supportive church family and a career mentoring the incarcerated. I’m also working with Chaplain Lee at a release center in Phoenix called New Freedom.

I help others, just as God said I would!

Despite my many mistakes, Satan was unable to derail God’s plan for me. If you’re wondering if it’s too late for you, I can tell you, it’s not. God still loves you, and He still has a plan.

Varrone White was an enemy of God and a slave bound to the devil before Jesus broke every chain. Today, Varrone tells others about Jesus, the Savior who died so that we can live. He uses his past experiences to help the incarcerated and returning citizens find hope in their circumstances as a leader at Along Side Ministries and New Freedom in Phoenix.