“Who in the world is that?” A violent knock rattled our front door that warm summer night in 1999.
If I had known detectives were on the other side of that door, I would have taken one more minute to hold my wife close before opening it.
Deep down, I’d always known that knock would come. If only I had prepared my wife for the pain, confusion, and consequences my choices were about to unleash in her life.
Sarah and I were still newlyweds—just three and a half years into building our slice of the American dream. Looking in, we seemed to have it all together. We had great jobs, a bright future, and a supportive church community. We hoped to start a family soon.
But our lives were built on a shaky foundation because I was carrying a dark secret. And with that knock, it was exposed.
The booking area at the jail was cold and dismal. I felt hollow, like I was outside of my body watching a horror movie as the officers snapped my mugshot and fingerprinted me. Only I was the star of the show, and I had no way to change the channel. I was certain I’d lost everything—my wife, my life, and any hope for a future— because of what I’d done.
My whole life, I’d gone through the motions of being a Christian. I’d thought I’d given my life to Jesus at age seven, but now I realize that I’d never understood what that meant. I thought it was about going to church and praying prayers.
With the cold, hard reality of life staring me in the face, I realized I needed more than routine—I needed Jesus. I was losing everything in real time and was completely powerless to help my wife or myself. Apart from Him and His intervention, I had no hope.
I thought about Sarah and all she must be going through. I had betrayed her trust in the worst way, failing her as a husband. The full weight of my failures bore down on me.
I barely made it out of booking before crying out to God: “Lord, You have my attention. If it has to be You and me for the rest of my life, You have me!”
I had no bargaining chips, no promises to do better. All I could offer Him were the broken pieces of my life and a pain-filled cry of repentance and surrender. (See Psalm 51.)
I spent that first night in the county jail wondering if God even knew where I was, much less whether He had heard my prayer or cared to help me through the horrible mess I’d made. But God, in His mercy, answered my cry swiftly, and in a way I never expected.
When morning came, I was surprised to learn that I had a visitor. My heart pounded as the guard led me down the hall, seemingly louder than the sound of jangling keys echoing off the concrete walls. Who could it be? A lawyer? Someone from church?
My stomach dropped when I stepped into the small visitation room and saw her sitting there. Sarah.
Her eyes were swollen, and her face was pale. The pain in her expression cut deeper than any sentence a judge could hand down. Finally, she broke the silence.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she said, her tear-stained eyes locking on mine. I braced myself for the words I deserved—the anger, the goodbye—but they never came.
Instead, she whispered: “I forgave you as soon as you walked out the door. I meant what I said when we said our vows before God. I promised to love you for better or for worse. Well, this is just the ‘worse’ part. We’ll get through this together.”
I stared at my wife from my place of shackles and shame, unable to comprehend her choice to stay. On the other side of that plexiglass, God was demonstrating an unbelievable gift of grace. I didn’t deserve the love Sarah was showing me, nor did I deserve His.
Restoration began that day—not because everything was suddenly fixed, but because grace showed up. Sarah’s decision to stick with me was a spark of hope in the darkness, lighting our path.
I posted my bond and went home to wait for sentencing. The following nine months were a strange mix of freedom and fear as we lived in the shadow of a looming sentence while clinging to hope. We both knew the road ahead would be long and hard, but we could already sense God doing something new in our hearts and marriage.
I received an eight-year prison sentence for my choices. Every day behind bars reminded me of the wreckage I had caused and the grace I didn’t deserve. The harsh reality of prison life strengthened my faith as I leaned into Jesus for His help and guidance.
For Sarah, the journey looked different but was just as fierce. She faced whispers and judgment from people we’d once called friends. Our church community was absent. Bills piled high as income disappeared. And then there was the issue of whether her chance of being a mother was gone forever.
Every day, Sarah had to allow God to carry the crushing weight of her burdens by releasing her pain to Him. She clung tightly to His promises as she fought to hold true to her vow. She trusted, as did I, that somehow God could bring beauty out of our ashes (Isaiah 61:3). Forgiving me for shattering her world wasn’t easy, but God gave her the grace to do it.
Before I started serving my time, God led us to a new church family who welcomed us with open arms. They helped us navigate this rough terrain.
Rebuilding our marriage was a slow, painstaking process. With prison walls separating us, our only lines of communication were letters, phone calls, and visits. We leaned on these fragile connections to stay close, just as we had years before when I served in Desert Storm.
Only this time, in this storm, our conversations were centered on our faith in Jesus Christ. Our bond in Him made us stronger and more resilient. He was the anchor that kept us secure (Hebrews 6:19).
Three years into my sentence, God began to reveal His purpose for our lives. My ah-ha moment happened while I was in a prison chapel service, listening to a volunteer share his testimony. He had been incarcerated too, but was now part of a ministry on the outside.
I wondered what kind of crazy kook would want to come back after doing time in prison, but after hearing his testimony, I felt inspired. “Lord,” I prayed, “could You do for me what You’ve done for him?”
To my great surprise, God responded, “Yes, but you have to give Me your future.”
God then gave me this verse to confirm His words: “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?” (Jeremiah 32:27 NIV). That verse became a lifeline for me.
Trusting God with the details and surrendering my future to Him was the key to unlocking His plans and purposes for my life. It also marked the beginning of my call to prison ministry.
I knew that I wasn’t to wait until I got out of prison to start serving the incarcerated; I was to start now while behind bars. So, with God’s help, I began leading Bible studies, working in the chapel, and helping the less fortunate.
Meanwhile, on the outside, God called Sarah into prison ministry too, as a volunteer in a federal women’s prison, where she ministered to pregnant women. She also started a Bible study on the outside for the wives of incarcerated men.
Sarah knew firsthand the pain of incarceration and the impact of choices. Only God had been able to comfort her broken heart and restore her life. Only He had given her the strength to endure the pain my actions had caused. She wanted to bring the hope and comfort of Jesus to others (2 Corinthians 1:3–4).
When I was released, Sarah and I faced new challenges as we navigated reentry, probation, sought stable work, and lived under the heavy weight of my past. Trials tried to choke out the progress we made, but God kept us strong. His grace was enough. He made us strong in our weaknesses (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Every day we trusted the Lord to rebuild our lives. As we focused on obeying Him and moving forward in faith, God was faithful. Nothing was impossible for Him.
Not only did He meet our needs, He gave us our heart’s desire—two beautiful children. Our kids remind us every day that God not only is a restorer of what seems lost (Joel 2:25), but a rewarder of those who seek Him (Hebrews 11:6).
Today, Sarah and I lead a thriving prison ministry together, reaching people who feel forgotten and hopeless. We walk back into the very places that once held me captive, bringing the hope and freedom that can be found only in Jesus Christ.
Our mission is simple: to offer the hope that no life is beyond redemption and no failure is too great for God’s grace. Where sin abounds, grace abounds more (Romans 5:20).
When that knock came at my door, I thought my life was over. In reality, it was just the beginning, because that knock from law enforcement led me to answer God’s knock on my heart.
In Revelation 3:20 NIV, Jesus says, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.”
Jesus is still knocking on hearts—including yours. The question is, will you answer it?
Friend, the same grace God extended to me is waiting for you on the other side of your heart’s door. All you have to do is open it and receive His unconditional and undeserved love. You don’t have to clean up your life first. You don’t have to have all the answers. All you have to do is let Him in.
His knock can change everything.
Consider: Have you been “going through the motions” with God? How might a relationship with God impact your life? Is there someone you need to forgive or seek forgiveness from so restoration can begin? What “knock” might God be using in your life right now to draw you closer to Him?
DAN EVANS is the director of Harvest of Life Prison Ministry. Dan and Sarah enjoy serving others, living with joy, and pointing people to the freedom that is found only in Christ. For more information visit: www.harvestoflife.org.
