Trust the Process of God’s Plan

I was 30 years old when I hit rock bottom. And in that low place, I didn’t want to hear anything about God, let alone walk in His ways. I blamed Him for everything terrible that had ever happened to me—from being molested and gang-raped to losing my children.

I had one question for God: “Where were You?!”

Many people tried to tell me about God’s love and goodness, but how dare they? What kind of God allows such horrible things to happen? I didn’t want anything to do with Him—He’d never been there for me.

Outwardly, I had become an angry, skeptical, and downright mean woman. But beneath all that anger and skepticism were the real reasons I had walled off my heart from God: I didn’t feel worthy of His love or His time.

I had lived carelessly—I knew that. I’d done incredibly vile things and hurt countless people during my years of active addiction. I couldn’t imagine that God would want anything to do with a woman like me; people sure didn’t.

I was insecure and doubted God’s ability to heal my heart. I figured not even He could deliver me from my deep-rooted addiction to drugs and alcohol, nor could He restore the many things that I’d destroyed in my life—including my relationship with my children. I felt too shattered to be repaired.

I was eight years old when my neighbor began to abuse me sexually, but I told no one. As most abusers do, he threatened to harm me or, worse, my family if I told anyone what he was doing. No one would believe me anyway, he said.

So I bore the shame, pain, and confusion of my secret alone. By the age of 12, I could take it no longer, and I began reaching for people and substances to bring comfort. No one can work through that kind of trauma independently, especially a child.

First, I started hanging out with older boys and became sexually active. I imagined that if I gave myself to a boy, he would fall in love with me, and I would have a beautiful relationship like my mother and father did at home. But with every sexual encounter, I experienced more shame, pain, and confusion.

By 20, I was consumed by alcoholism and addicted to drugs. I stopped at nothing to feed my addiction. I made poor choices that yielded painful consequences—the hardest being losing custody of my three boys.

I tried to convince myself that my choices weren’t hurting anyone other than myself. Talk about denial. I sold myself that lie over and over again as I lay at the bottom of many a dark, hopeless pit.

Any one of those pits should have been my rock bottom—the place where I decided to change—but they weren’t. I was too stubborn to stop, look in the mirror, and initiate change. I preferred playing the blame game and wallowing in the mud of self-pity. It’s where I was comfortable.

That all changed, though, the day I learned I could lose custody of my boys. That painful realization became my rock-bottom moment in which I was ready and willing to say, “Enough! I don’t want to live like this anymore. I’ve got to get clean for my boys!”

I began attending Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) meetings and got serious about doing the programs. I disciplined myself to change my behavior, and soon I was clean and sober. Outwardly, everyone could see the change—I was living better, and I looked great. But inwardly, I was an empty shell of a person. I hung on with sheer willpower, but I knew I couldn’t continue the charade much longer. I was about to crash.

Many of the ladies at AA and NA talked to me about Jesus and how He had not only helped them change their behavior but had also healed their pain and filled their emptiness. According to them, He was the answer to everything that ailed me.

Those women got on my last nerve, and I rejected them in the unkindest ways. But they kept pursuing me and telling me how Jesus could heal my broken life. Eventually, their courageous and persistent faith broke through the walls of my hardened heart.

It happened one afternoon after an AA meeting. A lady from the group invited me to join her at a local café for coffee. I was reluctant at first but finally agreed to go.

We sipped our coffees and talked for a while. I was enjoying myself until Kim redirected the conversation with, “Why don’t you go with me to a prayer meeting tonight? Several of the girls from our meetings go each week. I think you’ll like it.”

Internal walls shot up. I was furious! Kim hadn’t invited me to coffee for friendly conversation; she was on a quest to save my soul. What was it with these %*#* Jesus people?!

I declined her invitation, but Kim persisted. She recognized that I was on the fence about following God and got straight to her point. “Tracy, if you don’t commit to following the Lord now, where will you go?” Before I could respond, she answered matter-of-factly, “I’ll tell you! You’ll go straight into the arms of another bad man and enter another failing relationship. You’ll get some drugs and overdose; you’ll go right to…” She continued giving me a list of the negative outcomes I was sure to face.

For some reason, I didn’t grab my coffee and run. Kim’s words were direct, but I wasn’t sensing condemnation from her, only compassion and an urgent knowledge that if I didn’t choose Jesus, I was headed for disaster.

I finally relented and told Kim I’d go, but I was driving separately. The minute things got uncomfortable, I was out of there! Well, that was my plan.

The meeting was at a tiny apartment owned by a lady the girls called Momma. Each week, this 80-year-old woman opened her heart and home to 30 women who, like me, didn’t feel welcome or comfortable in a church setting. She prayed with them and taught them God’s Word.

I entered her cramped apartment, my heart surrounded by thick, sturdy walls. No one was going to get me to change my mind about God. But my determination was no match for God’s Spirit. He was about to break down those walls and enter in.

I stood in a corner, contemplating my escape. But then, the meeting started, and someone asked if anyone had anything to share. Suddenly, it was like someone else had taken over my body.

My hand shot up, my mouth flew open, and I told everyone I hated God and didn’t want to be there. There was silence. Then, I started to cry and shared intimate details of my life. I couldn’t control myself.

Momma put a chair in the center of the room and asked me to sit down so she could pray over me. The older, more experienced, prayer-warrior women circled my chair, placed their hands on me, and began to pray. The other girls who were still learning and healing looked on. I’ll never forget the sight and sound of those women crying out to heaven on my behalf.

Powerful emotions rushed to the surface of my heart as they prayed, and then suddenly, like a river dam, things broke loose within me. God’s Spirit took down the walls and released the pain I’d carried since childhood.

Momma knew there had been a breakthrough. The women stopped praying, and Momma gently held my face in her hands. “Tracy,” she said, “God has a plan for your life. Trust the process.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I would learn soon enough.

From that day forward, Kim prayed with me, taught me God’s Word, and answered my many questions. She refused to leave me alone to figure out what it meant to be a follower of Christ on my own. Instead, she helped me develop a solid foundation of faith by discipling me so that I wouldn’t return to my destructive ways.

The only thing Kim asked me to do in return was to call her every morning at 9:00 sharp. This check-in call was to keep me accountable and prove my commitment. “Tracy, the key is desiring God above everything else. Make your relationship with Him the priority of your life. There’s a real enemy out there who seeks your destruction. You must be willing to fight for the life God has planned for you.”

Kim knew I still harbored anger and doubt toward God, but she encouraged me to press through those emotions, embrace my faith, and discover more about Jesus for myself. I did, and God faithfully revealed Himself to me along the way.

Over the next year, God filled the empty places of my heart with His peace, joy, and hope. He was working in my life, and I was sure He was about to grant me custody of my kids.

I searched the scriptures for God’s promises and boldly declared them over my life. “You’ve got this, God. All things are possible for You. You are a restorer of lost things and a rebuilder of broken things. You are the One who brings dead things back to life. There is nothing too hard for You.”

I can’t even describe how devastated and confused I was when things didn’t turn out as I had hoped. I’d done everything I was supposed to do, and yet, I lost custody of my three boys to my ex-husband. It’s a mother’s worst nightmare. Where was God?

“Aren’t You supposed to be making everything right in my life?” I cried. My sorrow quickly turned to anger. The blame game reignited in my heart, and I blamed God for the consequences I was facing—even though they were the result of my own actions.

I had given God my everything for the past year. I’d turned from my old ways, followed Him, and often looked the fool. I’d taken my boys to church and started teaching them about the Lord. And now He was taking them away? I didn’t understand. How could He?

I know now that the hard truth is that this was my doing, not God’s. These were my consequences, not God’s will. I have learned that you can choose your sin, but you can’t choose your consequences or how long they will last. And this one—being estranged from my kids—would last for many years to come.

Old feelings of betrayal flooded my heart and mind. I was sure God had abandoned me again and had purposely brought this pain into my life. I wrestled with my faith for months. But then, one day, I remembered Momma’s words, “Tracy, God has a plan for your life. Trust the process.”

Was this part of God’s process? Could He still have a plan? And could He be working that plan out for my good as Romans 8:28 promised?

I stood at a crossroads of faith. Either I could trust God’s plan, process, and His Word, or I could turn back. I thought back to the painful pits of the past. Did I want to return to the devil’s den? It was a hopeless pit of death and destruction (Hebrews 10:39). There was nothing for me there.

No, I decided. I would press on with God. But I knew that this time, I’d have to completely surrender my life to His love and care. My faith could no longer be based on earthly evidence of what I saw God doing or not doing in my life. I resolved to become the mom my kids deserved, whether I ever got them back or not.

That decision was a hard blow to Satan’s plan. His greatest goal was to lead me to question God and be angry with Him so I’d turn away from my faith. Satan wanted me back in the pit, where I was no threat to him. He lost in a big way that day.

Still, God’s process was not easy and quick. Some days my heart was so heavy with grief and frustration, I couldn’t breathe.

“Oh God,” I’d cry. “Where’s my breakthrough? When will I be made whole? When will I get to where I want to be?” I couldn’t see a victorious end. I couldn’t see how I’d ever be a mom again to my boys. But God could see my freedom, wholeness, and restoration; He sees the end of our lives from the beginning (Isaiah 46:10).

Often my heart grew heavy, but God would whisper, “I’ve got you, Tracy. Keep going.” He beckoned me to draw ever closer to Him, to enter His throne room of grace where I’d find the mercy, strength, and help I needed (Hebrews 4:16). His presence and words were compressions to my heart and breath to my lungs. God’s grace was there for me, even in the darkest days and toughest consequences.

In the throne room, I asked the Lord to shed His light into the dark parts of my life and uncover truths that would help me build a future (Psalm 139:23–24). I didn’t want anything to hinder my victory.

Day by day, God gently led me back to my past. Together, we faced my sin and the traumas other people’s sins had caused in my life. And in the process, I discovered healing and hope.

Today, on the other side of that long and often painful process, I am thankful. God’s plan and His process gave me the time and avenue to healing. His way enabled me to vanquish the sin that had repeatedly conquered me. Had I gotten my way, I would have brought the same broken mom back into my kids’ lives. They and I deserved better.

Because I trusted the Lord, I now have a beautiful relationship with my boys, I’m married to a mighty man of God, and I am a minister of the hope of Jesus Christ. To God be the glory.

Friend, even if you can’t imagine it, God has a victorious end planned for your life too. Trust His love for you and His process, no matter how painful or long. You must know, living apart from God will never soothe your soul or bring lasting change to your life.

Be willing to make difficult choices, take practical steps, stay God’s course even if it doesn’t seem to make sense, and fight for the freedom you and your family deserve. Your victory will only be as good as your participation with God.

No, it won’t be easy. But it will be worth it. You are worth it!

Dr. Tracy Strawberry is an international speaker, published author, CEO, ordained minister, and wife of baseball legend, Darryl Strawberry. She is passionate about equipping individuals to live a life of freedom and purpose in Christ. She is the author of several publications including Clean, Sober & Saved, a globally established, Christ-centered recovery curriculum. For more information, visit findingyourway.com.

It’s Going to Be Okay

The Story of Joshua Brown

“You might as well give up. There’s nothing you can do to get out of this mess. Your life is over!”

I was 20 years old and facing a possible life sentence plus 55 years for various charges, including armed burglary with battery. I had blown it for good this time.

I begged and pleaded with God to get me out of my circumstances, but nothing changed. My attorney advised me to take a plea deal for 10 years rather than risk being sent away for life.

I acted like a tough guy as I signed my name on that line. But when the officers returned me to my dorm in the jail, I cried like a baby. I’ll never forget the words a Christian inmate said to me, “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to make it.”

I couldn’t imagine how he could be right. I’d been in trouble with the law before, and I’d served a month in jail and a few days in a juvenile center. That was enough for me to know that the next 10 years were going to be incredibly hard.

Fear overwhelmed me. I wasn’t going to be okay. I probably wasn’t going to “make it.” Guilt followed close behind the fear. My entire family was suffering because of my actions. I’d created many messes for my mom and siblings to clean up over the years, but this was on a whole new level.

I believed in God and had often prayed to Him. Once, when I was twelve, a pastor told me that I had a calling on my life by God to be a preacher. It was an interesting thought, but there was no way I was going to get serious about following God, at least not then. I had too many things I wanted to do first. I’d think about God after I did all that other stuff. Only I never found an end to what I wanted to do.

Now, I was regretting that decision. Not only had I messed up, surely I’d destroyed any plans God had for my life. Why would He even want someone like me? I just knew He’d written me off for good.

To my 20-year-old mind, a 10-year sentence was an eternity. How could my life have any value or purpose if I were in prison? All I could think about was finding some way to end my miserable existence.

My road to prison began when our family’s home got robbed. We called the authorities, but when they couldn’t do anything to help us, something in me snapped. Before that, I had walked the straight and narrow. After? I couldn’t get over that someone had just walked into our house and taken what they wanted—and nobody did anything about it! I was frustrated yet amazed at the same time.

My mother had struggled to provide for us kids for years. I’d worked two jobs all through high school myself. We had tried to get things the right way, yet we still ended up with nothing. It just wasn’t right. I was sick of working so hard, and for what? I decided I was going to take what I wanted from now on too.

I know this was wrong thinking; I probably knew it back then. But to my teenage mind, it made perfect sense. I hit the streets and joined a gang.

It wasn’t long before that criminal mindset took root, grew, and choked out anything good in me. I no longer cared for anyone other than myself, nor did I acknowledge authority. I became my own boss and left a trail of destruction in my wake.

John 10:10 tells us that Jesus came into this world to give life, while Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. The way I look at it, we either bring life into this world as Jesus did, or we bring chaos, destruction, and death like Satan. Every one of us is either on Team Jesus or on Team Satan.

I was on Team Satan for sure—the kill, steal, and destroy team.

God gave me countless chances to make the switch and get my life right, but I squandered every one. From time to time, I would play the part of a Christian. I’d go to church, read my Bible, and even drop money in the offering plate—drug money, that is. But the rest of the week, I immersed myself in street life, partying it up.

I ran hard from God and His call on my life. But Momma was praying back home.

She never gave up on me, not even during my years of rebellion. Day after day, she took me to the throne of God, knowing He was the only One who could help her son. Because of her prayers, I am alive, sane, and living a productive life today.

I spent my first four years in prison in the Florida Panhandle. There, I got serious about attending chapel and learning more about God. I immersed myself in religious activities, served other inmates, and changed my behavior. Many good things happened in my life during these years, but my heart was far from God.

I was a religious man, but I was not a lover or follower of Jesus Christ. I served God and others only out of a sense of duty. I was like a Pharisee—interested only in following religious rules and looking good to others. God wasn’t impressed with my religious actions and biblical knowledge; He wanted my heart. I came to know this after I was transferred to Avon Park Correctional.

There, I witnessed God’s love in action through the loving-kindness of incarcerated Christian brothers. These men were deeply in love with Jesus, and it showed. Their presence lit up that prison’s darkness; Christ in them changed the atmosphere, and that changed me.

I watched in awe as these men thrived daily, even though they lived behind bars. Their lives had purpose; hope sparkled in their eyes. I wanted what they had—a relationship with God, His hope, and an authentic life purpose. No more religious activity. And no more being on Team Satan.

God used those men to sharpen my walk with Him (Proverbs 27:17). They taught me the value of trusting God and applying His Word. They kept me encouraged and accountable. When I’d get discouraged or off course, someone would say, “Man up, brother. Remember what the Word says and who you are in Christ.”

I miss that daily fellowship with my Avon Park brothers now that I’m released. Their love restored my hope and showed me that God still had work for me to do. They were on Team Jesus.

With God’s help, I served my 10-year sentence. It wasn’t easy, but it was filled with purpose. God gave me His strength (Psalm 46:1; Nehemiah 8:10; 2 Corinthians 12:9–10) and guided me with His wisdom (James 1:5). The Lord also met my needs (Philippians 4:19).

Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (NIV). I can attest to the truth of this verse. I never lacked anything in prison. Before I could even think of it or desire it, God had already prepared it. And He never missed a detail. All I had to do was continue to seek Him and trust Him. He took care of the rest.

I was released from prison on August 6, 2019, and God continues to meet my needs. I am amazed at my life now. And to think, I wanted to throw it all away.

God has abundantly blessed me with relationships and opportunities. He has given me a beautiful wife—a mighty woman of God. In January, we are expecting our first baby.

God opened doors for me to minister at Multicultural Family Church in Brandon, Florida. I also serve on the board of directors at a nonprofit called Society-First.

Through Society-First, I advocate for the rights of the incarcerated. I am even able to minister at Avon Park Correctional. Only God could have opened a door for me to return to the prison where I resided, so soon after my release. God is good; He does much more than we can imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

Maybe you’re ready to give up. You see no way of enduring the difficult road ahead. Just like God helped me through 10 years of incarceration, He will help you serve your time—whether in prison or elsewhere—too. The road ahead might look impossible, but let me tell you what that Christian brother said after I was sentenced: “It’s going to be okay. You are going to make it.”

Philippians 4:13 promises that if you are on Team Jesus, you can endure all things. He will help you. Don’t give up. And don’t give in to Satan’s lies. You are never without hope when you are in Christ. In Him, there is forgiveness of sin, restoration, and redemption. He still has a great purpose for your life.

You can’t see the end of the story right now, but God does. And it’s a good one. Far better than you can imagine.

Joshua Brown gives God all the glory for His redemption story and for the success he has experienced in the free world as a contractor, in his relationships, and in ministry. Today, he serves on the board of directors at Society-First and is on staff at Multicultural Family Church in Brandon, Florida.

Lay Your Burden Down

Lay Your Burden Down
The Story of Jay Bastardo

Who is Jesus to me? Jesus is my everything.
At every stage of my life, whether I realized it or not, God has been exactly who I have needed Him to be—my Savior, healer, and friend; my protector, provider, and redeemer; my comforter, strength, and refuge. And lately, Jesus has been revealing Himself as my source of peace and identity.
It took a scary trip to the hospital in 2020 to begin to know Him this way, but you need to know more about me before I tell that story.
I started life in the Dominican Republic, where my family worked very hard for what little we had. My grandmother was the first entrepreneur I ever met, and man, was she a hustler! She always had creative ideas, and I was right there by her side.
Grandma was poor, but she never complained or focused on what she didn’t have; she just went to work. We did all sorts of things to make money: we bagged the charcoal we found on the ground. We cooked beans. We made hair products. And people came to our home to purchase these treasures. Grandma’s work ethic sowed an enterprising seed in me that thrives today.
My mother was a hard worker too. She came to America through a government program in 1994 and worked three jobs to make a better life for us. She fought hard to take me with her to the States, but it wasn’t possible at the time. She was forced to leave me in the care of my grandmother.
Being away from my mother was incredibly painful, and my heart still hurts when I think about it. No matter how much love my grandmother and other relatives showed me, nobody’s love ever felt like Momma’s. I lived with an enormous hole in my heart. It was difficult knowing she was so far away, and even as a young boy, I felt an urgent need to protect her.
Thankfully, God made a way for us to be reunited five years later. On May 26, 1999, I arrived in Newark, New Jersey. I came armed with five dollars that my aunt had given me. She told me, “Go be a man and make your mark on this world!”
And that’s what I set out to do from that day forward. I was 15 years old.
I had dreamed about this moment and my life in America for years. I was so happy to be reunited with my mother, but the perfect life I had imagined was not to be found. I hadn’t seen her in five years, and we’d both changed. She was now married and had another child. I hadn’t met her husband or my half-brother before the day I arrived. I felt very out of place and alone. Not to mention, I was a teenage boy wrestling with deep emotions and raging hormones.
And then I had to start school in a new place where I didn’t speak one word of English and I had only one pair of jeans that I wore every day. It was a cruel world.
One incident haunted me for years. It happened on the first day of school. I entered a classroom to ask a teacher—in Spanish, of course—if I was in the correct room. When he answered “no,” I assumed he spoke Spanish and continued speaking. No is, after all, a Spanish word.
Suddenly, a young Latina burst out laughing. I’ll never forget her mocking voice. “Are you stupid? Don’t you see that man doesn’t speak Spanish? You’d better learn the language!”
The way she spoke ignited something inside of me. I didn’t appreciate being called stupid or being challenged. I turned to her and replied in Spanish, “I promise you that I’ll be speaking better English than you before this year is over.”
I went home and got to work. I grabbed a dictionary, turned on the television to FOX and CNN, and put on the closed captions. Every day, I highlighted a new word from the dictionary and used it in a sentence as many times as I could.
All that work soon paid off. Six months later, the teacher in charge of the English as a Second Language program came into the classroom and promoted me to a regular English-speaking class in the presence of that girl. It was a very satisfying moment; her words had hurt me.
From that point on, I was determined to prove my worth through what I could accomplish. I would show the world who Jay Bastardo was and what he could do. And I’ve been working to prove myself ever since.
My story really is one of immigrant success. I arrived in the US at 15, worked crazy hours through high school, and went on to various jobs. I met my wife, Eridania, in New Jersey, but we were from the same hometown in the Dominican Republic. God brought us together in the land of our dreams!
I always knew I wanted to own my own business, be my own boss, and pursue the American dream. We moved to Greenville, NC, and eventually we bought a food truck on Craigslist. We called it Villa Verde—to honor our Dominican hometown and our new hometown, Greenville. God blessed that business, and today we have two beautiful brick-and-mortar authentic Dominican-food restaurants and a third restaurant serving good old Southern food.
We’ve worked hard to get here, and I continue to be driven by a need to succeed. I’ve accomplished much in life. Accomplishing things isn’t bad. The Lord wants us to reach our fullest potential and make the most of the opportunities He brings. But no matter how much I accomplish, it’s somehow never enough in my mind. What I’m learning now is that if my motive for doing something is for myself and not for God’s glory, then accomplishing it will come at a great price.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve felt this incredible responsibility to be successful, not just for my sake, but for others—my grandmother, mother, wife, children, staff, community, and more. This need to prove myself means I am in constant motion. For years, I have defined myself by what I do and how busy I am.
So you can imagine what a shock the worldwide shutdown of 2020 was to my system. The COVID-19 pandemic rocked my world. Always before, I could handle crisis. I worked harder so we didn’t lose what we had. I never backed down from a challenge—no matter how high the odds were stacked against me, I overcame them with commitment, determination, and hard work. I had started from nothing before, and I’d always found a way.
But COVID was different. People were dying. The disease came like a murderer in the night; it wasn’t a respecter of persons. I couldn’t work harder to fix it. I couldn’t implement a solution. I had no control. And people were dying! That terrified me.
As a business owner, I didn’t know what to do. Should I keep the restaurants closed, or should I open them for take-out? But if I opened them and one of my staff got COVID, was that my fault? And what if they died?! Inside, I condemned myself: “You’re a greedy pig, Jay. You only want to open to save your business and make money. It’s all you’ve ever cared about!”
Satan knew just how to push my buttons. I’d been hurt by those exact words in the past—from people I loved. So I decided to keep the restaurants closed. My inner self tormented me with that decision too.
“But I’m responsible for all these people and their families. Some have left their countries to work for me. If I don’t open back up, they won’t have money to pay their bills or send back to their families. Everyone will suffer because of me!”
Back and forth I went. I wavered so much that my mind became filled with chaos, doubt, and fear. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t see the way forward.
And that’s where the unexpected trip to the hospital came in. I experienced so much inner turmoil over these business decisions that I thought I was having a heart attack.
Turned out my heart was fine—I was “just” having a panic attack. What? Me, a panic attack? No way! “Only weak people have those,” I thought, “and I’m not weak. I’m a doer, a man of faith who overcomes obstacles. I mentor other people. I’m a provider and protector for my family and friends. I help the people of my community. I can’t have a panic attack. That’s just not me!” I felt so much shame and condemnation when I heard those words. (I think I’d have been happier with a heart attack!)
But I went back home and kept worrying about what I should do. Finally, I decided I would keep the restaurants closed.
And then my beautiful wife, Eri, spoke up. “Why don’t you let the staff decide, Jay? Find out how they feel about this.”
Well, why didn’t I think of that? We gathered everyone together to discuss the situation. Their response blessed me. “We want to come back to work,” they said. “The community needs us, and we need to be here too.” They even told me that if we didn’t have the money to pay them, they’d still be there for us. That night, we decided to move forward as a team, and we all rolled up our sleeves and got back to work.
My family and our staff pressed forward daily after that. But I couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room—I had gone to the hospital, crippled by fear and anxiety. Those emotions were still tormenting my heart and mind. Why was this happening?
The story I’ve told you so far has been about me—but my faith is also a big part of my life. In the middle of all my worry and indecision, I began to sense God inviting me on a journey to discover the answers to these questions and to better understand my true identity as His child. I’ve since stepped out into this journey, and the deeper I dive into my past, examine my belief patterns, and let God reveal His truths, the more freedom and peace I find.
I’ve lived under pressure so long that I’m not sure I would know how to live without it. I am well aware that my choices today impact people I will never meet on this side of heaven. I strive daily to live a life that my kids will want to model. The funny thing is that no matter how hard I try, I usually feel like a failure at the end of the day. And these failures taunt me. My response is to work harder and try to do better. It’s a weighty burden.
When God and I set out on our journey together, I remembered Matthew 11:28–30 (NIV), where Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
These verses helped me understand that the pressure I live under is not from God; it is self-imposed. His purposes for my life will never weigh me down, nor will they create anxiety, self-condemnation, or pressure. They also won’t invoke fear, doubt, or confusion.
If I am under these things, then I must be under something other than the will of God. There is freedom, peace, and order wherever the Lord is—not bondage, fear, and chaos. (See 1 Corinthians 14:33; 2 Timothy 1:7; 2 Corinthians 3:17.)
I’m not responsible for everyone’s life outcome. Each individual is accountable for their own choices. I’m also not responsible for being everyone’s provider and solving their problems. That’s God’s job. And my taking on these responsibilities is me trying to play God.
Here’s a fresh revelation: I’m not God! I can’t tell you how freeing it is to let go of that responsibility.
That doesn’t mean God doesn’t want me to care for others. I am His hands and feet on this earth, and I am called to serve and give. But He is teaching me that I’m not responsible for people; I am responsible to them. My role is to live a life of integrity and to operate in my giftings as I serve, love, and honor those around me.
To put it simply: God is calling me to focus on being, not doing.
The greatest thing I can do for others is to be a surrendered child of God; the rest will take care of itself (Matthew 6:33). He calls me to trust Him (Proverbs 3:5–6) and release my loved ones to His care. God loves my family and staff more than I do, and His plan and provision for them will not fail.
I’ve already told you that my motive for doing has been to prove my worth. But the Lord has also revealed the driving force behind that motive: fear. Deep down, I need to prove I am somebody because I am desperately afraid that I am nobody.
If I fail, I’m afraid I’ll prove that what my classmates, a former boss, and even some family members said about me was right. They said I’d be poor and never amount to anything, that my ideas were stupid, and that I’d fall flat on my face. I strive because I’m terrified that what they said will become my reality. I also fear I’ll fail my wife and children.
But a fear-based, performance-driven life is not what God intends for His children to experience. That’s Satan’s desire. God has never asked any of us to prove our worth.
Before we accomplished one thing in this world, He exchanged His Son’s life for ours (John 3:16). The Lord’s love for us has never been based on what we do but on who we are—His children. And what we do isn’t what pleases Him either. It’s how we trust Him that matters (Hebrews 11:6).
I’m thankful for these revelations and all the others. And I am committed to allowing the Lord to work in my life. I do want to experience His freedom and rest, but I’m finding that a learning experience too.
Like I’ve said, I work nonstop. I have for years. I don’t understand people who don’t want to work or who give excuses why they can’t work. But God is teaching me that working nonstop isn’t His intention either. Rest is good, and God commands us to do so. It’s the fourth commandment. Even God rested from His work (Genesis 2:2–3).
Still, if I’m not working, I wrestle with feeling guilty, lazy, and unproductive. I feel like I’m not being a man and providing for my family. The Lord is helping me work through these patterns of wrong thinking. He is teaching me to find balance in my life—not just for me, but for the sake of my family.
My constant going keeps my loved ones on the move too. And the pressure I’m under seeps into their lives whether I intend it to or not. We are all weary. My wife and teenage son work ridiculously hard and long hours. Our family bounces from restaurant to restaurant, event to event.
As you can see, I am learning much about myself and the why behind my what. And I am sure God will have a lot more to show me in His time as He helps me become who He created me to be. I’m excited for God to transform me into a new person as I change how I think. Then I’ll be able to experience His will, which is good and pleasing and perfect. (See Romans 12:2.)
Perhaps today, you are under heavy burdens and being attacked by fear. Like me, you’re afraid that people’s words and thoughts about you will come true. God wants to help you be free of your burdens and escape the turmoil. Jesus’s promise of rest is for you too. Lay your burdens down, my friend. Right here at Jesus’s feet.

JAY BASTARDO is on mission to discover his identity in Christ. He and his family serve their community through authentic Dominican food and heartfelt service while living out God’s agape love to the world.

Rebuilding The Life That Heroin Tore Apart

Rebuilding the Life that Heroin Tore Apart
The Story of Amber Leason

“How did you become an addict, anyway?” people often ask.
Before I met Jesus, I would have given you multiple reasons. And, of course, none of them would have involved me. In my view, somebody or something else was always the cause of my downfalls.
I blamed genetics because addiction runs in my family. I blamed ex-boyfriends because every one of my romantic relationships ended in disaster. I refused to take responsibility for any of the messes I made.
But the truth is, I had a good childhood. I grew up in a loving home with both parents. No traumatic events can explain why I responded to the world around me the way I did. The only person to blame is me. I was the source of all my problems, and even worse, I created problems for everyone around me.
There was a dark space of nothingness inside me from as far back as I can remember. I tried hard to fill that space but always came up empty-handed. The more desperate I became, the more I grasped at the world around me. And everything I touched, I broke.
I tried to fill the void in me with men. At 13, I lost my virginity to my first boyfriend. My whole world revolved around that boy, and I let go of everything else to hold on to that relationship.
He quickly became insecure and controlling and forbade me to go places and do things with anyone else. Over time, I abandoned all my friends and school activities; I even shut out my family. The end of the relationship shattered me.
Who was I now? I had isolated myself and had no identity outside of him. Because of how I had treated them, my friends wanted nothing to do with me. No one would talk to me or sit with me at lunch. In fact, they went out of their way to avoid me.
I’d call my mom from the pay phone outside the school in tears. She did her best to comfort me so I could get through the rest of the school day. But the next day, it would start all over again. The days and weeks dragged on until my broken teenage heart crumbled under the weight of loneliness.
I was determined to end my life, so I took every pill in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Then, I went into my mom’s room and stood over her, quietly weeping as I watched her sleep.
I wanted to wake her up, to tell her what I had done. But I wanted to die more than I wanted to live. Death was the only way to end my pain, I thought. So I went to bed, hoping to drift away forever.
I was so disappointed the following day when I woke up. But I got up anyway and forced myself to walk to school; I was still under the influence of all those pills.
I had never been high before, and I liked how I felt. Suddenly, I didn’t feel any pain, and I wasn’t lonely. If I could stay numb, I reasoned, I’d be okay. The trajectory of my life changed that day.
I found a new group of people who accepted me. I hung out with the kids who got high. Somehow, I managed to graduate from high school, even though I was doing hard drugs daily.
The party continued after high school until I discovered I was pregnant. I got married and stopped drinking and getting high for the sake of my child. In 2003, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I had a couple good years, but stress soon got the best of me again, and I returned to the numbness of drugs.
When I turned 21, a whole new world opened to me. I could leave my son with his father and go out clubbing every night of the week. In 2005, I got a DUI. I spent only one night in jail, but that was enough to know that being locked up was not where I wanted to be.
Soon, I divorced my son’s dad. After that, I cycled in and out of relationships, drinking heavily and fueling my addiction.
In 2014, I hurt my back at work. The pain from the injury was terrible, and I relied on opiates to function. I was relieved to have a prescription for painkillers; I wouldn’t have to buy pills off the street anymore.
I was already struggling to stay clean before the back injury, but now that I had opioids on hand, my addiction escalated quickly. A month’s prescription lasted only two weeks, so I had to rely on heroin and meth until my prescription refilled.
By 2015, I was no longer a functioning addict. I began doing things I’d sworn I’d never do, like shooting up. I lost my job, my car, an apartment, and then my son. He had grown tired of how I was living and no longer wanted to be around me. I understood why he wanted to live with my mom, but it still hurt.
Losing hope, I decided to try rehab. I started thinking about God as I went through the steps of recovery. I got up early to sit alone outside on the patio of the rehab center and talk to Him.
“Do you know who I am, God?” I’d ask. I wondered if He even saw or cared about what was going on in my life. I didn’t know about Jesus or the magnitude of God’s love for me yet, but my heart was open to the idea that God existed.
I came out of rehab determined to stay clean. I went home to my mom and son and did well for a while, but I began experiencing excruciating back pain. Turns out, shooting up had led to an infection in my vertebrae. Antibiotic therapy cleared the condition quickly, but I began using pain pills again. And that started the cycle of addiction all over.
My mom requested a drug test, and I didn’t even put up a fight. I just left and dove headfirst into another dysfunctional and abusive relationship. My new boyfriend and I immediately began running the streets. We were homeless, and our entire lives revolved around our drug habits. I hit an all-time low, and a new level of darkness entered my life.
By Christmas 2016, I was determined to pull myself together. I’d missed all the other holidays with my family that year due to my addiction; I didn’t want to miss this one. I was looking forward to spending the day with my son.
I sobered up and waited anxiously for Mom to pick me up. But when she arrived, I was devastated to see that my son was not with her. Instead, she had with her a 7-page letter they had written together.
In the letter, they asked me to choose them over drugs. “Your son is sick of sharing you, Amber! He’s so tired of you abandoning him for this life.” My mother read the letter aloud as I sobbed uncontrollably. My precious son was deeply hurt and traumatized because of my choices. It was painful to hear, but I knew it was all true.
Somehow, I got the courage and strength that day to turn my back on my boyfriend and drugs and return to my parents’ home for shelter. I am convinced I would not be here to tell this story had I made a different choice that day. I never got high again.
My troubles didn’t suddenly disappear; I’d be lying if I said they did. Instead, they multiplied as I confronted the broken relationship between my son and me.
He was rightfully angry and did not believe that I would stay clean. It would be a long road to earn his trust, but I was determined to travel it.
Knowing I needed help, I decided to start going to church. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt like I was supposed to be there. Once again, I found myself talking to God. “I need to know that You are real, God. I can’t face life alone. I don’t know what I am supposed to do to fix my relationship with my son.” God would soon answer me.
I struggled to stay away from my ex-boyfriend, who was still addicted and on the streets. He would call and beg me to return to him. Our conversations always left me feeling helpless. He promised he was not getting high, but I knew better. I also knew spending time with him would be dangerous. But I cared about him and wanted to help him.
So, as any true codependent would, I started dragging my ex to church. On Sunday, February 5, 2017, we met at a fast-food place before the service.
After breakfast, we stood up, and a syringe fell out of his pocket. An immediate flurry of feelings rose inside me, but ultimately, anger prevailed. “Get away from me and leave me alone,” I cried as I ran out of the restaurant. He followed me, and soon we were screaming at each other and physically fighting. It was a miracle that we did not end up in jail.
I can’t explain how, but I knew that my life depended on making it to the church that day, so I kept running. Today I know there was a real spiritual battle trying to prevent me from coming face to face with the love of God. Thankfully, God won. In fact, He gave me a message that day that I couldn’t miss. It was written in chalk, right there on the sidewalk: “I am rebuilding the life that heroin tore apart.”
Those words spoke straight to my heart, and I knew they were from God. When I needed Him, He had shown up (Psalm 46:1). It’s incredible to me that God would intervene in such a profound, personal way (Genesis 16:13).
Determination flooded my heart. I snapped a picture of the message with my phone and ran toward the church. But my ex followed me, and we were fighting as we came in the doors. Members of the congregation quickly sensed that I was in trouble and moved in to help. They separated us, and a kind woman comforted me as I sobbed.
I calmed down enough to join the worship service. Tears streamed down my face as the beautiful song “Good, Good Father” played. When the pastor presented an altar call, I fell to my knees and surrendered my life to God. Despite the evil forces that had tried to stop me, the Lord’s purposes prevailed, and I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior (Psalm 57:2).
I invited Him that day into the dark, void space in my soul. He responded by filling me with His grace, mercy, and forgiveness. I found in Jesus the acceptance and sense of belonging that I had searched for my whole life.
You must know that getting saved did not free me from the consequences of my addiction and selfish choices. Jesus never promises that we won’t have to deal with those, only that we won’t have to do it alone (Isaiah 43:2; John 16:33).
My life looked like a collapsed building that a wrecking ball had demolished—but God is in the remodeling and restoration business! He gives new life through the finished work of Jesus Christ on the cross to anyone who comes to Him. God has always been faithful to reconstruct and remodel the things that sin destroys. Knowing this strengthened my faith. Besides, I had nothing to lose by trusting Him to restore my losses.
Since then, my life has been one big construction site. Jesus has been the chief architect and foreman, overseeing every repair, big and small. When I gave Him control over every detail of my life, true and lasting transformation began.
It’s been an amazing experience to roll up my sleeves and be an active participant in God’s plan and purpose for my life. His blessings have been endless!
Within a year after getting clean, a renewed relationship with my son began to bloom. He still struggles with the trauma he experienced during my addiction, but I get the privilege of consistently showing up for him as his mom. I now get to be an example of the life-changing power of Jesus and reflect my Lord and Savior’s love into my son’s life.
He and his wife have made me a proud grandma. Even though COVID prevented it, they extended a kind invitation to me to be in the delivery room when my third grandchild was born. I praise the Lord for the miracle of forgiveness in my son’s heart toward me.
I am also married now to a wonderful Christian man who is not only the solid spiritual leader in our home, but also my best friend. He has helped me navigate through sober parenthood. The Lord has used him to be a positive male presence in my son’s life too. I am blessed as well to have a church family that embraces me and helps me stay connected and accountable.
Having the Lord’s presence and power in my life and a godly support system means everything. That dark space of nothingness is no longer inside me. Christ has filled it with His love, joy, and peace.
And He can fill you too.
We all have the same God-sized hole inside us, and only His love can fill it. Come to Him today. He makes a beautiful promise in Jeremiah 31:4 NLT: “I will rebuild you… You will again be happy and dance merrily with your tambourines.”

AMBER LEASON works in special-needs education and enjoys sharing the love of Jesus with her students. Using her life experience, she serves with Thrive, a women’s ministry that facilitates a space for women to connect with God and encourage each other in their faith.

Drafted to God’s Team

Less than 1 percent of high school baseball players make it to the Major Leagues. I was one of the fortunate ones. Raw talent and a determination to prove my worth to a father who said I’d never amount to anything paved the way to my becoming an 8-time all-star, 4-time World Series champion, and a New York Mets Hall of Famer.

Being chosen to represent teams like the Mets, the Dodgers, the Giants, and the Yankees is indescribable. If you’ve ever competed athletically, you know the perseverance it takes to overcome ongoing physical pain, setbacks, and mental frustration, as well as tough competition and naysayers. To have success at any level of sports takes discipline and sacrifice.

The New York Mets drafted me straight out of high school and sent me to play for the Kingsport Mets in the Appalachian League. I was the number one draft pick at 18 years old.

My manager reminded me daily, “Making it to the big leagues takes a lot of work. You might get there if you focus on your goal and train for it.” There was no guarantee, but I hoped that if I kept my head down and played hard, I’d get to prove myself in the majors one day.

So you can imagine my excitement when, in the spring of 1983, I got the call. I was preparing to play another game for Kingsport when the blessed words, “We want you, Darryl,” came down from above. The New York Mets were calling me up.

I tried to play it cool and act like it was no big deal the day I walked into the NY Mets clubhouse. But it was a big deal. There, in a room with some of MLB’s greatest, hung a Met’s uniform in a locker with my name on it—Strawberry.

Team members welcomed me into their prestigious club with handshakes and slaps on the back. They had heard about the tall, gangly kid who, according to the media, was supposed to be the next Ted Williams. They welcomed my talent, especially if it could help lead them to a World Series championship title.

My first few games were rocky. I was playing with the big boys now; settling in would take time. The media was harsh, but I stayed focused. And then, one night, it all came together. Crack! The ball went soaring. I started running. And the crowd went wild. I was on my way to becoming Rookie of the Year.

As a Met, I had everything I thought would make me happy. Lucrative contracts, fancy cars, huge houses, and lots of women. I had man’s applause, accolades, power, and prestige. Heads turned when I walked into a room, and opportunities came running.

Most importantly for me, being a Met provided a place to belong and a sense of worth. It was proof that I was a somebody and that I had done something right.

For most of my young life, I had heard otherwise. My abusive, alcoholic father told me daily that I was worthless. “You’re no good, boy. You’ll never amount to nothin’.” Dad made it clear through his words and actions that he didn’t want me.

My mother, a godly woman, tried to reassure me of my worth. She loved me and my siblings dearly and taught us Christian values. But the scars left by my father’s abuse and harsh words took precedence. No matter how successful I became, I couldn’t shake the belief that I was a worthless failure.

Placing my worth in being a professional athlete was dangerous, however. Being a Met was a temporary position, as was being a Dodger, a Giant, and a Yankee. It didn’t matter how many home runs I hit, how many bases I stole, or how many outs I forced—eventually there’d be a day when the stadium lights would go down, I’d clean out my locker, and I’d return home for good.

Some of my career endings came by choice. Frustrated or disappointed, I’d seek a change, like when I left the Mets, became a free agent, and signed with the Dodgers. That move led me to sign the second-highest contract in baseball at that time—over 20 million dollars. Most career endings, however, were forced upon me due to my poor performance, sports injuries, surgeries, cancer, and of course, my bad behavior.

I was an out-of-control alcoholic, a drug and sex addict, and a womanizer for the 17 years I played professional ball. Teams grew tired of the negative attention my poor choices brought to their franchises.

It didn’t matter that I was still playing well and helping lead them to World Series championships. I was too much of a liability and distraction. My IRS scandal, domestic abuse charges, drug use, and incarceration caused sensational, national headlines. I was no longer worth their investment.

No matter the reason, being released was always an incredible blow to my self-esteem. Perhaps my most humiliating moment came when the Yankees didn’t renew my contract after a string of injuries. I was forced to play in an independent league up north that, unlike the minor league teams, wasn’t even affiliated with a major league franchise.

I wasn’t a prima donna or anything, but I was a world champion and an all-star. I was Darryl Strawberry, for goodness sakes!

And I had left Yankee Stadium to play for a team I’d never heard of, in a league I’d never heard of, with washed-out veterans and aspiring teens. I wanted to quit, but I couldn’t. Playing ball was the only thing I knew how to do and the only place I felt I belonged. Being a baseball player had been my identity since I was a kid.

The most painful thing about being released was knowing that I was no longer wanted. Every time a team said, “we don’t want you anymore,” I heard my father’s words: “You’re no good, boy.” Cementing the message of those words further were my two failed marriages, the loss of my six children, and an inability to escape the addiction I struggled with daily.

Throughout my career, I experienced regular seasons of depression. There were days I couldn’t even get out of bed to make it to the ball field. Other days, I tried to comfort my broken, rejected heart by hitting the streets, hanging out in crack houses and bars, and visiting the bedrooms of strange women.

The belief that I was a failure—a big fat zero, an absolute nobody—led to my destruction. I blew through the world like a hurricane, leaving a path of rubble. Ultimately, I lost everything, including my family, money, houses, cars, health, career, and reputation. And I hurt many people in the process.

In these low points of my life, though, I still heard God whispering the words I’d always longed to hear: “I want you, Darryl.”

Why God would want a messed-up knucklehead like me, I couldn’t imagine. I was three million dollars in debt, twice divorced, estranged from my children, hopelessly addicted to drugs and alcohol, and banned from Major League Baseball. My name was mud in this world.

I had never heard the promise of 1 Corinthians 1:26–28. It teaches that God chooses to love and use the people the world despises, casts aside, and counts as nothing, even those who mess up in life and hurt others. I summarize this verse this way: God chooses the knuckleheads of this world to join His team. Thank goodness.

Momma tried to tell me that God loved and wanted me and that He had an excellent plan for my life beyond baseball. I believed God existed and that Jesus Christ had died for me, as John 3:16 says. There were even moments I’d set out to follow Him. But they were only that—moments. As soon as life’s trials appeared, I returned to my old ways and the comforts of the world, even though I knew how destructive they were (Matthew 13:1–25).

Over and over, Momma warned me, “You can run, Darryl, and you can hide. But eventually, you’ll have to surrender to the Lord and do what God calls you to do.”

She was right. Eventually, I surrendered and stepped into my calling, but not until my stubborn, rebellious self took me down incredibly dark and painful roads. I had to come to the end of myself before I was willing to say, “Okay, God. You can have me. I’m ready to go all-in with You. I’ll join Your team and start playing according to Your rules. I refuse to be a spectator any longer. Put me in the game, Coach!”

And you know what? Despite all those times before that I’d ignored or refused Him, the minute I said those words, God welcomed me with open arms and without the tiniest hint of judgment (Luke 15:11–32).

Accepting my place on God’s team is the best decision I ever made. My life changed as I committed to my relationship with Jesus, building my life on biblical principles, and living in the power of the Holy Spirit. God helped me become the man I’d always longed to be.

I’d spent years willing myself to be a better son, husband, and father, but I failed every time. I joined recovery programs, entered rehab centers, and even went to prison. But none of that brought lasting change. Why? Because willpower, incarceration, and most programs don’t deal with underlying issues. They only try to stop behavior.

I was a kid who had been rejected and abused by his father. I was a man who had made terrible mistakes. My heart was full of anger, bitterness, self-loathing, fear, distrust, unforgiveness, and pain. It housed physical and emotional traumas that continually overrode my best intentions and efforts.

An unhealed heart is a dangerous thing—but, thanks be to God, when I surrendered my heart to Him, He gave me victory over my past trauma and present sin through the Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:57). I became a new man because Jesus healed, fulfilled, and transformed me. It was like 2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV says: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come. The old has gone, the new is here.”

God gave me a new identity. I, Darryl Strawberry, am now a child of God. My worth is no longer linked to baseball or what anyone says about me. You can find my name on God’s roster, which is the Lamb’s Book of Life (Revelation 3:5, 20:15). And you know what? My place with Him is eternal.

Unlike the world of baseball, God isn’t in the business of trading His players or sending them home. He will never cut me loose. When He chose me, it was forever. Nothing I do, nothing I don’t do, and nothing this world sends my way can separate me from His love (Romans 8:37).

Besides, God’s choosing me was never based on my performance. It’s only based on my faith in what He did for me (Ephesians 2:8–9). God sent His Son, Jesus, to die for my sin (John 3:16). Jesus willingly stepped up to the plate and went to bat for me. He took the punishment for my sin, death, so that I could have life (Romans 6:23). God’s grace, not my works, gave me a spot on His team.

Knowing I am accepted and loved unconditionally brings me peace. And it encourages me to continue to take to God’s field and assume my position daily as a minister of His grace. There’s no better place to be. World Series championship titles, money, fame—none of these things even come close in comparison.

If you haven’t done so already, I encourage you to accept your place on God’s team. God wants you, my friend. Yes, you. The outcast. The knucklehead. The one who’s continually swinging and missing.

You’re the one He wants to love, accept, and use. He’s got a “uniform” with your name on it. By faith, it’s time to put it on!

Let me help you. Pray with me, “God, today by faith, I receive my place on Your team. I’m tired of playing for the world and sitting on the sidelines. Life apart from You only leads to disappointment, frustration, pressure, and pain. I’m sorry I’ve run from You so many times. I surrender my mind and will to You and eagerly take my place on your team. Use me. Forgive my sin. Heal my heart. Renew my mind. Teach me Your ways. Put me in the game, Coach—I’m ready to play!”

That, my friend, is the best decision you’ll ever make. His is the greatest team you can ever join.

Darryl Strawberry dazzled many with his baseball career. This legend is one of the most feared home-run hitters in baseball history. Today, though, Darryl’s purpose and passion is serving the Lord by speaking a message of hope and helping others transform their lives through the power of the gospel. He has several published works including Finding Your Way, Turning Your Season Around, and The Imperfect Marriage, coauthored with his wife, Tracy. For more information, visit findingyourway.com.

Embracing God’s Plan

Kyle: Bobbie and I were blessed to grow up in godly homes. When we were married, we committed ourselves to continuing the examples of faith our families had given us. We went to church, attended Bible studies, served others, and did our best to live godly lives. And God blessed us in many visible ways.

We assumed these blessings were directly related to doing all the right things. We believed that if we obeyed God and served Him, He would protect us from difficulties. And since our belief system had never really been challenged, we had no reason to believe it wasn’t true.

Now that’s not to say we had never faced difficulties. We had, but it seemed we could always fix our problems with our minds or with hard work, perseverance, and our connections.

So when Bobbie and I couldn’t get pregnant, we reacted as we’d always done. We sought our options, developed a plan, and did what we could to conceive—medically and physically speaking. And, of course, we prayed.

We had both always wanted children. And although we knew going into our marriage that conceiving might be difficult, we still had faith. We hoped against all hope for a child, just like we’re told Abraham did in Romans 4:18.

While we waited for our little miracle, we made promises to God. One went like this: “God, if You’ll allow us to conceive, we will give You back our child to use however You decide.”
We followed the example of Hannah in the biblical account found in 1 Samuel 1. Like Bobbie, Hannah had also faced infertility. For decades, she had prayed fervently for a son and tried hard to conceive.

The Bible tells us that God heard Hannah’s plea and blessed her with a son. She named him Samuel, which meant, “I asked the Lord for him.” Bobbie and I decided Samuel would be a perfect name for our child one day.

Bobbie: You can imagine our excitement when we discovered I was pregnant for the first time. God had even helped us conceive naturally. Our faith soared!

But then came the miscarriages. Five of them. Kyle and I did our best to keep our eyes focused on the Lord. We clung to hope, reminding ourselves that nothing was impossible with God. But it wasn’t easy.

Finally, on August 17, 2011, our child was born. Kyle and I praised God for His kindness and the beautiful gift of our son. We knew God had a grand purpose for Samuel, and we couldn’t wait to see it unfold.

Grateful, we set out down the path of parenthood. It wasn’t long, though, before my mother’s intuition told me something was wrong. Samuel wasn’t developing like other children. He wasn’t using his hands, making eye contact, or smiling at us. Most of the time, he just stared off into space or rocked his head back and forth.

We took Samuel to his pediatrician and to other doctors, including neurologists, but no one had answers. I had suspicions of what might be wrong, but the doctors assured me that Samuel would grow out of whatever he was going through. Months passed without change. Desperate, Kyle and I begged God to show us what was wrong with our son. It seemed, though, that God had gone silent on us.

Kyle: As Bobbie and I went from elation to grief, doubt and confusion began to set in. God was supposed to be a good Father with amazing plans. How was what we were going through good?

We had been faithful servants of the Lord. We had even dedicated our son to Him. Where was God? Why was He allowing this to happen to us? Wasn’t He supposed to protect His children from hard times?

Too many nights, Bobbie and I sat on our bed and just cried. Our dreams for our son and family lay shattered around us. We felt like we were walking alone through the valley of the shadow of death, and we were terrified.

It was such a dark time for us as we wrestled with our faith. Nothing made sense. We’d done everything right and God had miraculously given us a child, but now, something wasn’t right with him. He wasn’t “perfect.” Samuel was an innocent baby—why would God allow this?

Bobbie and I prayed over Samuel as he lay in his crib and begged God to heal him—we knew He could. God could do anything! Really, though, we just wanted God to make him normal. We wanted people to look at our child and see something beautiful, not someone with a disability.

Surely, we reasoned, God would answer our prayers. Any minute now, He would wave His hand or speak a word, and everything would be okay for us and our son. Bobbie and I were determined we’d give Him the honor and glory when He did.

Bobbie: This was our hope, but as time went on, we finally had to admit it might not be God’s plan. I felt like a rug had been snatched from underneath me.

Pain gripped my heart every time I saw another mother hold her child close and soothe them. I was Samuel’s mother, and just like those mothers, I was supposed to be making everything better for my child. But I couldn’t. And no one around me could make it better either. Not my parents, who had always been there for me, not my husband, not even the doctors.

And God wasn’t making it better either.

Kyle and I continued to beg and plead and make deals with God. By the time Samuel was a year old, we had exhausted every avenue humanly possible. Self-pity, anger, anxiety, and disappointment overtook us. But then, one night, we came to our senses. We got on our knees, threw our hands in the air, and finally surrendered our son and how we thought our lives should look to the Lord.

“Father,” we prayed, “we don’t understand Your ways. But we choose to trust You and Your plan, whatever it is. God, we don’t know what to do. Please help us. Hold us. Use us. We know You gave Samuel to us for a reason—take him, he’s Yours. Amen.”

For the first time, we recognized that, outside of God, we had no hope. We needed the Light of the World to illuminate our darkness. Incredibly, as Kyle and I finished praying, the Lord whispered to my heart, “I’ve got this.” Relief washed over me.

God was with us, and no matter how bleak our situation seemed, He still had a plan. Life for us wasn’t over, and we weren’t alone in this dark valley. I had heard Psalm 23 before; now I finally understood it. Sure, I still had questions, but I had peace too. And that was greater than having answers.

Kyle: God’s presence ushered in His peace for me that night too. As a husband and father, I had been anxious and frustrated. I should have been able to make things better for my wife and son, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t change a thing.

Through our prayer, I had cast my burden of fixing our family’s situation—a burden God never intended for me to carry—onto the Lord’s shoulders. And because of His great love for my family and me, He had accepted it (1 Peter 5:7).

I physically felt lighter as I came out from under the weight of my cares. The fog of doubt, anxiety, fear, and disappointment had lifted. My perspective pivoted, and I could finally see our situation differently.

I understood that, just because life had taken an unexpected and challenging turn, that didn’t mean God had left us. He hadn’t messed up either, and He certainly wasn’t trying to punish us or teach us a lesson. God was inviting us to join Him on a life-changing journey.
As these things dawned on us, Bobbie and I realized we needed to rise out of our self-imposed prison of pity, fear, and anger and start fighting for our son and our family in the spiritual realm.

Bobbie and I had read Mark Batterson’s book, The Circle Maker, with a small group from church. We had learned the importance of “circling” something or someone in prayer.
We decided to start circling Samuel in prayer. We literally took turns walking around our house, praying that God’s will would be done for our son. At night, in the middle of the chaos, we’d turn on the floodlights and take turns walking around our home, praying out loud. I am sure the neighbors thought we were crazy!

When Samuel was 18 months old, we finally received a diagnosis of autism. It was what Bobbie had suspected all along.

Bobbie: It was a relief to finally have an answer, but it brought with it a host of new questions. What would Samuel’s future look like? Would he ever be able to communicate with us? Would he be able to attend school one day?

We quickly learned that every case of autism is unique. We often tell people now, “If you’ve met someone with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.” Autism comes in so many forms, and we had no way of knowing where Samuel would fall on the spectrum.

Kyle and I grew tired of fighting for answers no one could give us, so we focused on the one question we could answer: How could we help Samuel reach his God-given potential? Our response to our situation was the only thing we could control.

We knew the sooner we got help, the better outcome we’d have. We didn’t want to look back one day and think we could have done more, so we began researching available resources for children with autism. The closest  center was in Winston-Salem, almost a three-hour drive from our home in Greenville, NC, and Samuel needed daily therapy. My parents lived in that area and invited Samuel and me to move in with them. Kyle remained home due to work commitments. On weekends, either he drove to Winston-Salem to be with us, or Samuel and I returned home to him.

Our whole world centered on Samuel’s therapy. Many sacrifices had to be made, and not just by us. Incredibly, my father put off his retirement to help us cover the mounting expenses from Samuel’s therapy.

It was difficult to accept help from family, friends, and even strangers. We had always been so independent. But Kyle and I quickly learned that we wouldn’t make it unless we humbled ourselves and received help when offered. We also had to learn to ask for help; the road was too difficult for us to travel alone.

The facility in Winston-Salem was a godsend. Within months, Samuel was making noticeable progress. He began making eye contact and using his hands. He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the table. Kyle and I celebrated every milestone as a gift from God; we took nothing for granted.

When Samuel turned 3, we heard his voice. It was the most beautiful sound ever. A year later, he said the words I’d longed to hear, “Love you, Mama.”

Kyle: I’ll never forget the day I walked into the house, and Samuel called out my name, “Dadda.” Samuel was four, and I hadn’t known if he would ever understand who I was. I broke down and cried.

We clung to every victory, big and small, as we faced the ever-present challenges of raising a child with autism. We still do. Remembering how far Samuel has come enables us to press on through each unpredictable day. Thankfully, God continues to give us His strength. The weaker we are, the stronger He shows Himself to be (2 Corinthians 12:9).

At the treatment center, we met many families who were walking the same uncertain road we were. Bobbie and I were thankful to be a part of such a wonderful community of people and to have access to these life-changing services. But we couldn’t help but think of the many families who weren’t as fortunate as us.

In one of our prayer walks years before, Bobbie and I had both had the idea of starting a therapy center in Greenville. After witnessing the effects of therapy on Samuel and how it had helped our family, we began to seriously consider the idea. Families from eastern North Carolina needed access to therapy. Was God leading us to step out on their behalf and shine His light onto their path?

It was an exciting but frightening concept. We had no idea how to move forward or what to do. (And if we’d known all God had in store for us, we might have run in fear.) Nonetheless, we said, “Yes, God,” and stepped out in faith.

God quickly revealed our first step. We were to secure one therapist to help Samuel and be available for other families. Friends and business leaders held a tennis tournament called “Aces for Autism” to raise funds for that therapist’s salary. That was in 2015, and Aces was born.

In 2016, we started offering services at Oakmont Baptist Church. We held an event there for families to learn about therapy opportunities. We wondered if anyone would come. We were shocked at the long line of families winding around the room.

Bobbie: There were so many kids like Samuel, so many families with shattered dreams. And here they were, all waiting to speak with us! We could see the desperation on their faces. How would we possibly help them? It felt like an overwhelming and impossible task.

As we looked at the line, Kyle and I reminded ourselves that God was with us and that He had not called us to help all these people on our own. He was with us, and not only that, Aces was His idea. God would ultimately provide for these families—not us. All He asked of us was to listen and faithfully take the next step He would put on our hearts.

We were determined that Aces would be more than just a center for services. It would be a ministry of God’s love. We wanted to walk alongside these families, provide life-changing tools, and wrap our arms around people. We tell all our families: “You’ll get through this. Yes, it will be hard, but God will help you. And we’ll help you too. Together, we’ll take it one day at a time.”

Kyle and I had no idea how God would grow Aces over the years. It’s been an incredible adventure. Since 2016, we’ve had the privilege of coming alongside 81 families. And we’ve outgrown several locations as we’ve added needed services and therapists.

In 2022, Aces will break ground on a new 30,000 square foot building in Greenville. Over 300 families are waiting for services. To God be the glory. Not only that, God is using Aces as a model for centers across the country. And He has used Kyle and me to fight for new legislation for better access and accommodations for families with autism.

We laugh when we think back to our prayer for God to make Samuel “normal.” God never looked at our situation—or Samuel—the way we did. He had a plan, and it was far better than anything we could have imagined.

Suppose God had answered our prayer the way we wanted. We’d have missed the joy of Samuel and experiencing God in such a powerful, personal way. Our situation forced us to rely on the Lord, to trust Him as our constant source of provision. Further, we’d have missed the privilege of knowing and helping hundreds of families in our area.

Kyle: It’s been an adventure, for sure. We’ve experienced incredible highs and lows, but God has been with us every step of our journey. Bobbie and I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

Samuel is 11 years old now; and he continues to make progress. This once nontalker now talks nonstop! It’s unbelievable how he went from not making any sounds to having this vibrant personality that says hello to everyone. Samuel has the biggest heart, and he puts a smile on people’s faces everywhere he goes.

As a family, we still face many challenges, especially now that Samuel is growing bigger and stronger. Every day, Bobbie and I must trust that the same God who helped us navigate the obstacles of the past will continue to provide for us in the future. He will meet all our needs—Samuel’s, our family’s, and the needs of Aces.

God has also blessed Bobbie and me with two more children—a son who is now 6, and a daughter who is 3. Only by God’s grace can we maintain balance and ensure that each of our children receives the love and attention they need. It’s not an easy task.

Maybe you are walking through a similar dark valley. Maybe you feel alone and afraid, or angry and confused. Bobbie and I know how you feel. But we want you to know that there is hope. With God, you will make it. He is with you, and no matter what it looks like, God still has a plan for your life. And He will bring it to fruition.

If you haven’t done so already, surrender the way you thought life should look to the Lord. Give Him all the pieces of your shattered dreams. He will put the pieces back together in ways you can’t imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

That doesn’t mean it will be easy or that there won’t be any pain. God doesn’t always protect His children from hard things, but He does help us through them.

Take one day at a time. Trust the Lord to give you His strength, wisdom, peace, and joy. When He sends people to help you, accept their help. Don’t isolate yourself; you cannot walk through the valley of the shadow of death alone. You need the Lord, and you need community.

KYLE AND BOBBIE ROBINSON are the founders of Aces for Autism. Families seeking support for autism may contact Aces for Autism by email info@acesforautismnc.com or call (252) 689-6645.

Look in the Mirror

Look in the Mirror

by Darryl Strawberry, with A.J. Gregory and Kristi Overton Johnson

I got dressed one morning and stared long into the mirror. I had been married to Tracy for one year and was ready to call it quits. I told God, “My wife is crazy, and this relationship is nuts! I can’t take it anymore.” I’d said the same thing about my previous marriages.

But then, in my heart, God clearly said, “No, Darryl. Your wife isn’t the problem, nor is your marriage. You are.” His words hit hard. That day in front of the mirror, I suddenly understood that I needed to stop playing the blame game and deal with my insecurities, scars, and hang-ups.

For too long, I’d pointed my finger at Tracy and called out her failures, flaws, and character defects. I’d tried to fix her when I was the one who needed to be fixed. I needed to be purged of sins, addictions, bad habits, behaviors, and attitudes.

My garbage wasn’t Tracy’s garbage; it was mine. And until I was willing to dig through the trash of my heart with God and let Him do His work, every relationship I touched would end in destruction. Why? Because I was in them!

I have a trail of broken relationships to prove it.

I came into the marriage with many deep-rooted wounds that needed healing. As you read in my story on page _, I was a very injured man. But that day, in front of the mirror, God showed me that I could find a way to wholeness through self-reflection.

His words weren’t meant to hurt or bring shame. They were to bring about a conviction of the heart that would lead to change. God wanted a better life for me, His child.

I embarked on a journey of self-reflection with Him that day. I prayed persistently, “I need you, God. Clean me. Purify me. Tear me down.” God was faithful to jump into my mess and wade through the stench of my heart and mind with me.

With time, He revealed that the problems in my relationship originated in my core issues of distrust, unforgiveness, and fear. My trust issues came from previous relationships and experiences with people who’d only wanted to know me for what I could offer them. I was afraid to trust anyone—even Tracy, a woman of integrity who I knew loved me and the Lord. But I didn’t feel I could trust Him, either. Who gives unconditional love?

My lack of trust surfaced in explosive fights with my wife. I was suspicious of everything she did. I called her integrity into question and made false accusations about where she had been, who she’d been with, and how she’d spent our money.

Tracy wasn’t the problem, though, or the source of my insecurities. The sins of others and my own were to blame. I was the one fooling around and not keeping my word, not her.

Unforgiveness was a big issue too. I hadn’t forgiven my father for the abuse he’d inflicted on me as a child. Nor had I forgiven my ex-wives or anyone else who had hurt me in the past. I held those people hostage in my heart, but I was the only one I was hurting.

Unforgiveness prevented me from finding true freedom. Bitterness flooded my heart daily, and it showed in how I treated Tracy. When we disagreed, I’d think, “Well, I don’t need you. I can do everything by myself.” I would reject her emotionally and sexually. I didn’t want her to get deep enough into my soul to touch the real me.

Then, there was the fear factor. I was always fearful of judgment. When you’re a celebrity, you’re an open target. It’s probably the most challenging aspect of star life. Everyone’s got an opinion (usually not a good one), and they can’t wait to share it. I was tired of reading negative things about me in the headlines, some of which weren’t true. The thing that hurt the most was hearing how I was a waste.

I was so afraid of public perception that when I started dating Tracy and at the beginning of our marriage, I stopped going out. I became depressed and hid in the house. From my bed, I’d ask Tracy, “Why won’t God just let me die already?”

Her response still rings loudly, “Oh, Darryl, you’re never going to get off that easy. People like us just aren’t that lucky. God has a plan for your life and for mine, only we have to walk through it to get it.”

My distrust, fear, and unforgiveness took me to low places and kept me there. But that all began to change the day I humbled myself, dug deep into the Word of God, and surrendered to the work of the Holy Spirit. The Great Physician performed spiritual surgery on my heart and mind, changing me from the inside out. He renewed my mind and made me into the man He’d created me to be (Romans 12:2). That’s when I became a real man.

My wholeness, though, wasn’t delivered in an instant. It took time. I hadn’t gotten myself into all my messes overnight, so it would take time to get out of them. I had to give myself grace. Transformation is never a one-time prayer event; it is a process that must be entered into with God.

Do you have a history of failed relationships too? If so, it’s time to look in the mirror, quit playing the blame game, and get real. It’s time to be willing to listen to God’s perspective on the matter of you.

Your relationships will only change when you’re willing to say, “Search me, God. Show me the real issue of my heart. I refuse to blame others any longer. I know ignoring the issues of my heart will only lead to destruction. Give me Your perspective and help me become the spouse, parent, sibling, and friend You desire me to be.”

Want a better we? Become a better me. Outward change only comes when you’re willing to do the inside work.

Darryl Strawberry dazzled many with his baseball career. This legend is one of the most feared home-run hitters in baseball history. Today, though, Darryl’s purpose and passion is serving the Lord by speaking a message of hope and helping others transform their lives through the power of the gospel. He has several published works including Finding Your Way, Turning Your Season Around, and The Imperfect Marriage, coauthored with his wife, Tracy. For more information, visit findingyourway.com.

God Always Makes A Way

God Always Makes a Way
The Story of Nate Carrera

Fatherless children make up a lot of the prison population. I know because I was one of them. I take full responsibility for my choices in life, but I must admit that my childhood was a crucial factor in why my life turned out the way it did.
Growing up without a dad was a recipe for dysfunction and disaster in my young heart and mind. I never knew my father, and since no man ever stepped up to fill that role, my childhood was void of any positive male role models.
My mom did her best to raise my brother and me, but then she got sick. Incapacitated by the treatments, she could not work or care for her family. Conditions were terrible in our home. There were no rules or boundaries, and we had complete freedom to run the streets.
Drugs owned me right off the bat. My life became one long blur of chemicals and crime, and I began racking up felonies left and right. My foolish ways led me to reap a fool’s reward (Galatians 6:7). I would face many consequences.
Life got crazy, and I longed to be free of the chaos. There had to be more to life than what I was experiencing. Part of me wanted to be the person God had created me to be. But how? All I knew to do was pray. I was twenty-nine years old when I cried out to God and said, “Lord, forcefully put me in Your will.” It didn’t take Him long to answer.
A couple of days later, I was taken by force back to the county jail. The baffling thing was that I was innocent of the arresting charges. That was a first! And then, my wife left me after the pastor who married us advised her to divorce me.
I was confused and deeply offended by the pastor’s advice. I had expected him to encourage her to stand by her commitment as my wife. Anger ate at me for a long time until I came to the end of myself.
In that place of complete brokenness, I finally recognized my need for God. I had nothing left when God knocked on the door of my heart. You can believe I was ready to open it and receive everything He had to offer.
My brother and I had been taken to jail together but were housed in separate units. We hatched a plan to meet up one day at the church service. I just wanted to spend some time with my brother, but God had other plans.
There was something very different about that service. The message was on the person and power of the Holy Spirit. God’s Spirit uniquely touched me. I didn’t go forward to the altar that day, but I did place my faith in Jesus Christ for salvation (John 3:16).
Some people tell of miraculous encounters with God, and their stories are so powerful, they can make other people question their own salvation experience. My story isn’t dramatic, but I know a miracle occurred in my heart.
God poured out His grace on me that day. Me—a sinner! His forgiveness washed away the shame, guilt, and condemnation I carried. Suddenly, I had a new sense of purpose, drive, and peace. I was a lost son who had found his way back to the loving Father he had always wanted but had never known existed. And God welcomed me home with open arms.
From that day forward, I began to walk in freedom from addiction. I left behind the destructive path I had known since childhood. My entire life changed when I placed my faith in Christ. That, to me, is the greatest miracle of all.
While I had genuinely surrendered my life to God, I still owed a debt to society. I remained incarcerated with the Florida Department of Corrections for four more years. Instead of letting the time do me, however, I decided that for this go-around, I would make good use of it. I committed myself to becoming the man God had designed me to be.
I learned all I could about Jesus, and I took every class the DOC offered to better myself. One day, my bunkmate told me about a former inmate named Kory Gordon, who had been featured in Victorious Living magazine.
I read his testimony, and in my heart, I knew that I would be doing ministry alongside him one day. I began writing ideas and goals in my journal, but I had no idea how quickly some of them would become a reality.
I attended the weekly chapel service in my unit for the next two years. One day, prison ministry volunteers told us their church had just hired a new pastor who had been an inmate at Franklin Correctional. I immediately knew they were talking about Kory and felt led to reach out to him.
With favor from the Lord, I obtained the address of the church where he was pastoring. I contacted him, and he quickly responded. There was an instant godly connection, and we forged a friendship. My “knowing” that we were going to be working together intensified.
I had spent two years before I met Kory preparing myself for release from prison. When I finished my sentence, I went to a transitional program in Panama City, FL. I refused to return home to Tampa Bay. There was too much old temptation there.
I was determined to stay on the path God had for me to follow and made choices accordingly. The stakes were high—I had a young son who desperately needed me, and I longed to get custody of him and get him out of the foster care system. I wanted to be a godly father to him, something I had never had myself.
The obstacles to parenthood seemed impossible. I was a four-time return offender to the DOC. My criminal history could fill an entire book. I was single and broke with no transportation or home. I had never been a parent before, and nothing showed that I could be one. I was up against a stacked deck. I am grateful that no deck is too stacked for God.
The courts would not even consider reunifying my son and me until I completed a list of classes and obtained specific certificates. I was also required to take random drug screens.
Considering my circumstances, these were not easy or cheap tasks. I had only a bike for transportation and had to ride far distances to complete those requirements. By the grace of God, I fulfilled every one of the court’s demands. Now, it was in His hands, and I prayerfully awaited the court’s decision.
Around this time, Kory and his wife, Kasey, had me over for the weekend. Not long after, I decided to step out in faith and move closer to them. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to be a part of their lives and ministry.
The move was a tough decision. If things went wrong, the courts could deem me an unstable father. With that, they could refuse to return my son to me. As difficult and risky as this decision was, I felt God’s peace about it, and at their invitation, I made the move to the Gordons’ couch.
My faith was stretched and tested, but God’s hand was always in my situation. Not one detail escaped His notice. His goodness went before me and made a way.
The Lord began opening doors for me. In no time flat, I had my own place to live. The job and transportation I needed came quickly too. God put amazing people in my life who embraced me in genuine love.
I joined a church and began serving in the food ministry. Even my employers turned out to be a blessing in my life. We are all like family. The grace of God met every obstacle I encountered.
When I was in prison, I put so much thought into how I would get back on my feet. I knew I’d be starting over with nothing, and my list of needs was overwhelming. But there was never a reason to worry or stress. God is a God of providence. He supplied everything, just as He said He would (Philippians 4:19).
After months of earnest prayer, jumping through hoops, multiple home checks, and regular drug screens, I was finally awarded custody of my son. We were reunified a year ago. He is excelling in school and seems to be happy. We have formed a solid bond while navigating through this transition together.
He doesn’t know it, but we are growing up together. I am learning this fatherhood stuff one day at a time. It’s not always easy, but I know being a father is what God has called me to do.
God has carried me through many difficulties, and He has never failed me. When the going gets tough, I remind myself of His faithfulness and continue to lean on Him. He truly is a miracle worker. I regret not giving my life to Him much sooner.
I hope my story will convince you of the goodness of God. He is and will always be a good Father to anyone who desires a relationship with Him (Matthew 7:11).
Don’t wait to accept His love. Come to know the Lord today; He will never fail you. As His child, you’ll find the acceptance and love you’ve always desired.

NATE CARRERA was once owned by drugs and crime, but he has been set free by Christ. As the Director of Development for Damascus Road, he uses his testimony and passion for Jesus to bring hope to the incarcerated.

God’s Vision Has An Appointed Time

God’s Vision Has an Appointed Time
by Kory Gordon

From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible repeatedly speaks of dreams and visions as communication between God and man. When I read these verses, one of my encounters comes to mind.

It happened when I was 19 years old, in a small county jail in South Georgia. While there, I had a powerful dream. I saw myself in that exact jail cell, wearing the same orange jumpsuit. Except in my dream, I was dead on the floor.

Suddenly, the cell door swung open, and a bright light shone in. I was lifted off the floor and carried out into the bright hallway. When I looked down, I wasn’t wearing a jumpsuit anymore. Instead, I wore a military uniform, and medals of honor covered my chest.

I could feel the tangible presence of God nudging me, compelling me to walk forward down the jail hallway. As I did, every cell door swung open and dead men stepped out of their cells. God transformed each one into beams of light.

When I got to the end of the hall, I heard a voice from heaven that said, “I have given you the ministry of John the Baptist.” It is a ministry of leading people to repentance in the Lord Jesus Christ.

I had this dream in 2002. At the time, my life was very dark. OxyContin and Xanax had buried me in addiction. Yet even then, I knew that God was behind the vision. He was showing me how and where He would intervene in my life long before it would come to pass.

Twelve years later, on March 7, 2014, this vision began to unfold in the Pinellas County jail. At the time, I was a dead man, walking in trespasses and sins (Ephesians 2:1–2). But then, God’s glorious light flooded my dark world, and His love lifted me out of the place where I had fallen. He removed my graveclothes and dressed me in His robes of righteousness. And some day I will receive rewards in heaven.

It’s been 8 years since the Lord drew me into His love. Today, I am a free man. Earlier this year, while touring prisons with Victorious Living, I saw more of God’s vision unfold. There I was, standing before other inmates, telling them of the goodness of God. Men rushed to the altar to repent of their sin, all of them desperate for Jesus. There were those dead men, coming to life as the Light of the World overcame their darkness.

While on tour, I was given the opportunity to enter a dorm and invite men to our service. I had served 11 years in Florida’s DOC, and not once did I ever see a former inmate gain access to the dorms. Yet there I was, running with the vision that God had shown me. As they filed into our service, I knew that God had carried out His will for my life.

I can’t help but relate to Joseph. (See Genesis 37–50.) God gave him a vision revealing his future, yet for many years, his circumstances looked bleak, just like mine. But that didn’t mean God’s dream was void. His visions for our lives are for an appointed time.

Habakkuk 2:3 says, “For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay” (NIV). Sometimes, it takes many years for His vision to come to pass.

Friend, if you have received a spiritual dream, vision, or promise from God, trust Him to bring it to fruition. In our eyes, He might seem to procrastinate, but His timing and understanding of the situation are perfect. Stand firm in your faith and wait patiently for Him. God’s thoughts and ways are higher than ours. He is always right on time.

KORY GORDON spent 11 years in incarceration, where he gave his life to Christ. He is now an evangelist, sharing the Good News that set him free. In 2021, he founded Damascus Road, a nonprofit residential discipleship program battling addiction, recidivism, and homelessness. Email damascusroad2021@gmail.com for more info.

The Golden Rule

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets” (Matthew 7:12 NIV).

Jesus shared this simple summation to His followers in His Sermon on the Mount. It’s often called the Golden Rule. Like gold, this rule is precious, priceless, and has a high return on investment. Jesus also said that the greatest commandment is to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind…and…love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37, 39 NIV).

Have you ever thought about how you want to be treated? Take a minute and respond to these statements:

I wish people would treat me ____________.

I wish people would speak to me _____________.

I wish people would view me ______________.

I want people to love me ___________________.

I want _________ shown to me.

I’m sure, like me, you want to be valued, honored, respected, loved, and treated with kindness and justice.

Now think about the magnitude of Jesus’s words. How we desire to be treated, well, that’s how we are to treat others. So whatever characteristic or action you inserted above, to receive it, you’ll have to go do that to others. Go be that to others. These acts of love are what being a follower of Jesus means.

Surely none of us answered, “I wish people would treat me unkindly. I wish people would speak to me untruthfully.” Or “I wish people would view me as incompetent and reject me. I want people to judge, criticize, and show hatred to me.”

How does it make you feel when people treat you in those ways? It makes me feel cheap, insignificant, and unloved. What purpose is served? None. And God certainly isn’t honored. So why would we want to act in such a way?

Interestingly, God is most concerned with our actions, not the actions of others. The directive from Jesus is for His followers to love others and move toward them in active goodness and mercy. It’s the kind of love God shows us every day. How we feel about a particular person doesn’t get to play into the equation. God wants our obedience; that’s how we show we love and trust Him (1 John 5:3–5).

I’m sure there’s a particular someone right now that each one of us might think, “There is no way I can treat them with kindness!” Well, I’ve got good news for you. In the verses right before the Golden Rule, Jesus teaches that if you “keep on asking, you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will open to you” (Matthew 7:7–8 NLT).

Jesus gives us these three amazing promises to supply and equip us to do this hard, seemingly impossible thing. The Bible also teaches that God will provide us with wisdom along the way. We aren’t left to carry out His commands alone. He is with us, but we must remember to draw near to Him for help. If we “come close to God,…God will come close to [us]” (James 4:8 NLT). This verse reveals the loving heart of God.

If we’re honest, there are a lot of times we don’t want to show kindness or love to others. We’ve just been hurt too many times. But God can heal those broken places in your heart. He has mine. Ask Him to place His love for people in you and help you see people the way He sees them.

God can put His desires in your heart and help you accomplish them (Philippians 2:13). He will show up and make Himself available to you through His Word and His Holy Spirit as you draw close to Him.

It helps to remember that you’re not treating people with kindness for their sake; you’re doing it for God. Your motivation is to honor the Lord and bring glory to King Jesus.

Take a moment to think of some good, merciful, right, and whole action or response that you can do toward one person today. Is the Lord cattle-prodding your spirit in a particular direction? Keep your eyes, ears, and heart open for opportunities as you go through your day. Follow His promptings.

Treating others the way we want to be treated is the key to living a victorious life.

SHERIDAN CORREA is a biblical counselor who is trained in trauma-informed care. She’s a wife, mother of two teenage boys, singer, and avid runner who has been radically changed by Jesus. She joined the Victorious Living family in 2022 as social media manager.