Wait For God’s Choice

I was overseas and alone in a hotel room when I realized I no longer wanted the “American Dream.” For me, it had become a nightmare.
I had everything the world said would make me happy—an education, successful career, material wealth, expensive cars, a large home, and a beautiful wife and kids. Yet, I was miserable. And the more I acquired, the less content I became. I had no joy in my life.
I had been out drinking that night. It passed the time during my overseas travels and temporarily filled the emptiness in my heart. I fell asleep in a drunken stupor, but around 4:00 a.m., I awakened to the sound of the television, broadcasting a story about an American corporate executive who had just escaped his kidnappers.
I knew about this man’s plight. A local tribe had taken him from a region where I often traveled. Other executives and I had been warned about the danger of being held for ransom there. This man had been in captivity for a year—in fact, we’d thought he was dead.
Tears flowed down his face as he talked about his ordeal, and then he shared how he had come to know Jesus during his captivity. He told the interviewer that he was heading home to ask forgiveness from his wife and kids for the life he had lived on the road. He hoped to rebuild his family.
His story struck me to the core. I lay on the bed and thought, “Oh my Lord! That’s me!” It was like I had looked in a mirror. I, too, needed to ask forgiveness from my wife and children for the life I’d been living. I also needed to ask God for forgiveness.
I had been so full of greed and inconsideration toward others, especially my family. Overwhelmed with grief, I fell on the floor, repented of my sin, and surrendered my life to Jesus. A sudden, new, and deep desire to love God and my family instead of things rushed over me.
I had asked Jesus into my heart as a child. I was raised in a Christian home with a long lineage of dedicated believers; I knew about God and truly did love Him. But then, when I was 16, I became rebellious and prideful. I strayed far from the Lord and traded His good plans for my own.
I made a big mess of things in the process, and my home life was in shambles. I had been so concerned with making money that I had forgotten about the needs of my wife and children. I hadn’t cared for them as God intended (1 Peter 3:7).
My life had been about owning stuff, not loving my family. And in the end, all that stuff owned me. It doesn’t profit a man to gain the whole world yet lose his life and things of true importance—like his family, health, and most importantly, his relationship with the Lord (Mark 8:36). I was determined to make amends and lead our family down God’s path.
I came home, quit my high-paced traveling job, and worked on rebuilding my family. I became passionate about the Lord and began devouring the Bible and serving others. But my marriage didn’t survive.
We divorced, and I quickly remarried. It wasn’t long, however, before I realized that I had gotten ahead of God, and that marriage ended as quickly as it had begun. And now I was in financial ruin.
They say hindsight is 20/20. I know now that if I had asked for God’s guidance, will, and wisdom in my relationships, I could have saved myself a whole bunch of heartache (Proverbs 3:5–6; James 1:5). But at the time, it didn’t occur to me to bring Him into those decisions. Instead, I followed my natural desires and human reasoning.
Those two failed relationships left me broken and bitter toward women. I was determined to remain single for the rest of time. But then, one day, God’s Spirit spoke to me. “Ron, this single life isn’t for you.” He began to show me that if I followed His lead, He would give me a godly wife who would bring me much joy. I just needed to trust Him and wait for His choice for me. His timing would be perfect.
After a season of prayer, I joined an online dating service. My dating profile was straightforward: “I am a believer in Jesus Christ. If you are not a believer, don’t even respond to this profile.” Many women responded, but it didn’t take long to realize that they were not faithful followers of Jesus. The Bible teaches that we can identify true believers by their fruit (actions). People who genuinely love God should exhibit characteristics like love, joy, kindness, patience, gentleness, goodness, self-control, and faithfulness (Galatians 5:22). There should be no selfish ambition and impurity.
But then, one day, a woman named Sandra emailed me. We communicated for a while and then decided to meet at a Christian retreat. It turns out Sandra was just as serious about her relationship with the Lord as I was, and she had the fruit to prove it.
Sandra loved the Lord with all her heart, and she shared my passion for serving others. (See her story on page 16.) Soon, I knew that Sandra was God’s choice for me, and we married before the Lord. The last 17 years have been quite an adventure as Sandra and I have sought God’s will for our lives. He has used us in ways we could never have imagined, especially in the prison system.
God in our marriage has kept us strong. Ecclesiastes 4:12 teaches that a three-stranded cord is not easily broken. I have witnessed this truth firsthand. Today, because of God, my marriage is beautiful, joy-filled, and strong. Take it from me—relationships built apart from God’s strand of grace and love will eventually break.
If you are in a relationship right now, I encourage you to bring God into the center of it. It’s not too late. And if you desire a relationship, don’t rush ahead of God. That will only lead to heartache. Wait for God’s gift. It will be good, and it will complete you. In the meantime, draw close and allow yourself to be changed by a loving and living God.

Trust and Obey–It’s Not Easy But Well Worth It

If you read this magazine regularly, you know I was recently released after having served 31 years in the Florida Department of Corrections. I’ll tell you, I had lost hope of ever getting out, but I still believed that the God who had given me eternal life knew what was best for me, even if it wasn’t what I wanted at the time.
Psalm 37:4 promises, “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” The desire of my heart was to get out of prison. I wanted that more than anything else, and I worked hard at it. I filed multiple motions with the court, trying (unsuccessfully) to prove that I was not guilty of the robbery charge against me.
God wanted me to trust Him to get me out in His timing. Proverbs 3:5–6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (NIV). I had a lot of learning and changing to do, but as I read and believed God’s Word, He began to use me for His purpose.
Gradually, the desires of my heart changed and, as I aligned myself with God’s plan for my life, I began writing articles and stories—hundreds of them. To my amazement, God has used those stories to reach people all over the world and on both sides of prison walls.
As I learned to trust Him, God began blessing me in ways that I never dreamed could happen. He had already set me free from a life of sin and bondage, but then, when I least expected it, He miraculously opened the prison doors and allowed me to walk out. And now, every day, He shows me His will for my life as the blessings continue.
God used circumstances to teach me to trust and obey. Just like a metalworker uses fire to refine and purify a precious metal, God used my circumstances to refine and purify me.
Obeying God requires surrender and trust, and it can be hard to do, especially if it means giving up something we want. We shouldn’t expect our obedience to God to be easy or to come naturally, but how we look at it can make a difference. We can push back and complain, or we can try to see how God is using it to stretch us into the people He wants us to be.
Genesis 22:1–19 gives us an incredible story of obedience and trust. There, God tested Abraham by asking him to hand over his only son, Isaac, as a sacrifice! Most people would consider this request over the top, but Abraham had already learned many tough lessons about obeying God. Though I’m sure he was shocked and in agony at the command God had given him, Abraham gave swift obedience. Seeing his faithful trust, God stopped Abraham from completing the task and spared Isaac’s life. After that, God made and fulfilled many promises for Abraham, all because he was willing to trust God and obey His commands.
I had to learn to trust God’s timing and His ability to provide too. God is in control of everything. He changes the hearts of people and the circumstances that surround them. Today, on the outside, I can see how true that is, and I watch and pray for God’s will to be done in my life.
Committing everything to Him means trusting that He cares for me more than I care for myself. I had to wait 31 years for God to open the prison doors, but I know that the long wait was for my ultimate good. Many of the things I want to do now take time and patience, and I must trust God’s timing to accomplish them—but I know that He will make a way for them to happen.
If you learn to obey Him, God will use your life for something good too.

Truths to Remember in the Wilderness

One swift kick. The frustration of the last ten months had come to a head, and with all the patience of a three-year-old, I took it out on the side of the tub. But tubs are unforgiving. Almost immediately, my ankle swelled in shades of blue and purple, and soon, I couldn’t bear any weight on that foot. For the next two days, I hobbled around, painfully aware that my heart needed fixing more than my ankle.
I’d been wandering a wilderness of isolation and waiting after moving from a small town I loved to a large city. I knew God had led us to move, but the months spent looking for a new church, new house, new everything had taken their toll. I missed my friends and longed to be settled. The lease on our rental was expiring, our furniture was in storage, and I missed the permanence of a home of our own.
Maybe you’ve experienced a wilderness of isolation without friends, family, or a church home. Maybe you’ve endured a wilderness of waiting long past your timeline despite your prayers. Or maybe you’re in a wilderness right now of deep pain or grief after your life shattered around you.
When we’re in the wilderness, we want out quick. But focusing on getting out can make us miss the lessons God has for us there. Wilderness circumstances feel barren, but they can be spiritually rich. Here are some truths to remember when you find yourself in the wilderness.
God provides in the wilderness. If God leads you to it, you can trust He will provide for you there. He led the Israelites into the wilderness. He led David, Elijah, and even Jesus there too. But God never left them to fend for themselves. He provided manna for Israel, safety for David, and meat and bread for Elijah. And after Jesus fasted 40 days in the wilderness, God sent angels to care for him. God will provide for you there, too.
God reveals His character in the wilderness. When Hagar fled to the desert after being mistreated and rejected, God appeared to her. She called Him “the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:13 NIV). When Moses was in the wilderness, God appeared to him, revealing Himself as the “I am; the Lord” (Exodus 6:2–3 NIV). At various times, God revealed Himself to the Hebrews as the Bread of Heaven, the Living Water, the Holy One, the Law Giver, and the Rock.
On Mt. Sinai, God revealed himself as, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin” (Exodus 34:6 NIV). Don’t miss the ways God reveals Himself to you in the wilderness.
The wilderness is a place of preparation, not permanence. God doesn’t park us in the desert places of life forever. He uses them to prepare us for where He is leading us next. This pattern occurs repeatedly in the Bible. God led the Israelites into the wilderness to make them a nation, give them His law, and show them how to worship, in order to prepare them for the Promised Land.
God led Jesus into the wilderness where Jesus fasted and prayed for 40 days and was tempted before beginning His public ministry. Paul spent three hidden years in the desert before launching into his evangelical missionary journeys. What is God preparing you for?
The wilderness is never meant to harm you; it’s meant to form you. Deuteronomy 8:15–16 NIV says, “He led you through the vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions…to humble and test you so that in the end it might go well with you” (emphasis added).
God always intends it to go well with us. Don’t do as I did and kick against the wilderness places. God already has a good end in mind. As you wait, get to know Him in new ways, trust His provision, and get prepared for what He has in store. And when He reveals that next step, take it. You are not alone.

LISA APPELO is a speaker, writer, and Bible teacher who inspires women to deepen their faith in grief and find hope in the hard. Formerly a litigating attorney, her days are now filled with parenting seven children, ministering, writing, speaking, and running enough to justify lots of dark chocolate. Find Lisa’s encouragement for faith, grief, and hope at LisaAppelo.com.

You Are Not in the Fight Alone

I know God is real. He has proven His presence, power, and love to me many times over the years. He has given me undeniable evidence that He is involved in my life and cares about everything I go through. That evidence has come in various forms—circumstances, relationships, inner peace, and an inner knowing of what to do.

I gave my life to Jesus when I was a child, at an old Baptist church in Wilson, North Carolina. My neighbor invited me to attend, and I heard the message of God’s love. When the preacher extended the invitation for anyone to give their life to Jesus, I ran to the front of the church. Even at that young age, I could feel God’s presence. I remember standing there and thinking, “Wow! God knows me!” And I was excited that I could know Him too.

From that day until now, I have never questioned God’s love for me—but I can’t say I’ve always understood His ways. I’ve walked through some painful experiences, and I’ve lost many precious things—including my arm, my parents, and even my son. Our family fought for ten years against my son’s drug addiction; we lost him when he was 29 years old. But even then—especially then—I saw God’s hand at work. He has always given me glimmers of hope, reminders of His faithful goodness and His promise that everything would be okay.

When I lost my arm, I discovered the power of prayer and the peace of God. I was working at my father’s meat-packing plant when my glove got caught in the meat grinder and pulled my arm into the machine. Before I knew it, half of my right arm was gone. It took an hour for the rescue team to arrive on the scene. While I waited, all I could do was pray, “Lord, please don’t let me die.”

As soon as I uttered those words, the pain went away, and the bleeding stopped. God had shown up in an obvious way. I spent a month in the hospital after that, fighting a nasty infection. But as I trusted Him, God gave me His peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:6–8). I was only 14, but I knew God had saved me, and I trusted that He would help me overcome my new limitations.

My father struggled more than I did. He felt so responsible for the accident. He visited me every morning and evening, before and after work. I could see the grief and concern all over his face. But that all went away the day I asked him for a pen and paper.

It had occurred to me that school would be starting soon. Summer break was coming to an end, and I was supposed to enter the tenth grade. Being that I was right-handed and no longer had a right arm, I knew I needed to get busy learning to write left-handed. When Dad saw my commitment and ability to adapt to my situation, he knew I was going to be okay.

I don’t know why, but I never looked at my missing arm and thought, “I’ll never be able to do [this] again.” Instead, I thought, “Let me see what I can do.” Philippians 4:13 says that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. So I set out to see what I could do with God’s help.

That attitude brought me many victorious moments.

I did make it back to school that fall, but playing sports again was not on my horizon. About a year after my accident, however, the varsity football coaches approached me and asked me to try out. The idea both excited and challenged me.

My high school had a competitive football program. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to make the team, but I was willing to try. It took a lot of hard work and determination, but I earned a spot on the varsity team as a junior.

Recently, my class celebrated our 40th year reunion. Teammate after teammate shared how my attitude and persevering spirit had impacted their lives. I was blown away by their comments. These were guys I had looked up to! It had never occurred to me that I had influenced them in a positive way, but God uses us to encourage one another even when we don’t know it. We can be going about our day, just being ourselves and doing what we love, and the whole time, God is working behind the scenes in ways we can’t imagine.

God has used many people in my life. He used my neighbor to lead me to Christ. He used those coaches to encourage me to hit the gridiron. Then He used a water-ski enthusiast named Tommy to encourage me to try that sport, and that’s where, ultimately, I found an international platform to tell others about the Lord.

I was 17 when I stepped off the dock and into water skiing. As I considered Tommy’s invitation, I remembered watching a teenage amputee skiing when I was 12 years old. I decided, if that guy could ski with one arm, I could too.

That weekend, I learned how to ski on two skis and even dropped a ski and skied on one. I also tried to get up on one ski but was unsuccessful. I figured I needed a bigger ski, so I went to the local ski shop and bought one—but I still couldn’t get up. I went back to the store and bought a water-ski glove, but that didn’t help either.

The owner of the shop, Sarvis Bass, took it upon himself to build me a special ski handle that would help balance out my body weight and provide stability. He gave me the handle, told me to go practice and then come back to see him after I could cross both wakes.

It wasn’t long before I was back at his shop completely hooked on the thrill and challenge of water skiing. Sarvis began teaching me the basics of running a slalom course. He got me involved in local and regional competitions and continued to build special tools to help me advance in the sport. It’s been 45 years, and I’m still skiing. In fact, in 2019, I represented the United States at the International Waterski and Wakeboard Federation’s World Adaptive Waterski Championship in Skarnes, Norway.

I worked with Sarvis until I moved away for college. There in a new town, I started working at another water-ski shop called Overton’s. God used the owner of that company, Parker Overton, to be an encouragement to me—both in skiing and in life.

I was working at Overton’s when I got the news that my father had passed away. Parker called me into his office, hugged me, reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and asked how he could help. I’ll never forget that moment of God’s grace being extended to me. It was a simple but powerful gesture.

Just like when I lost my arm, God’s presence and peace helped me face life without my father. I took comfort in knowing that my dad was a believer in Jesus Christ, because that meant he was okay. I knew from the Bible that the moment my dad died, he had stepped into the presence of God for all eternity. I would see Dad again. My heart still hurt, but I had hope.

Years later, God used my son, Hunter, to teach me many things, especially about extending grace and forgiveness. Hunter passed away the day after Thanksgiving in 2015. It was the end of a long struggle with drug addiction.

As a father, I desperately wanted to fix my son’s situation. I often wondered, “What in the world is wrong with this kid? Why doesn’t he just quit drugs?” I simply couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t make better choices. I grew more frustrated with every trip to rehab and jail, angrier and more unable to trust him with every broken promise and lie.

There were moments when I wanted to physically lay a hand on my son. I couldn’t stand it when Hunter would disrespect my wife—his mother. It wasn’t right. One night, after he verbally berated her, my anger got the best of me and I charged him. But in the middle of the scuffle, I heard the Holy Spirit say, “What are you doing? This isn’t the way.” His voice stopped me in my tracks. I felt so ashamed.

It wasn’t until I prayed, “God, please soften my heart and open my eyes” that things changed for me. No, life didn’t get any easier, but having God’s heart and His perspective on the situation enabled me to move forward with peace. I promised the Lord I would never lay a hand on my son again and determined to fight every battle God’s way—in love and with peace.

Hunter’s situation grew worse. There were times we saw him walking down the street of our town and didn’t even recognize our own son. He looked so empty. One day, I stopped my car to see if it was him, and it was. I sensed the Lord telling me to invite him home and feed him. That night, he asked us to put him up in a hotel so he could get clean and go to rehab. After praying, I felt peace about helping him again.

The rehab center rejected Hunter because he still had drugs in his system. This rejection sent him spiraling deeper into the darkness of his addiction. But then one day, he called and begged me to take him back to the center.

I couldn’t imagine they would accept him into the program, but I picked him up. As we drove there, Hunter wept and started telling me all the things he had done. He was so brokenhearted. I told him I didn’t care what was in his past; all that mattered was how he was going to move forward. My heart hurt when he said, “Dad, could you ever forgive me?”

Jesus’s story of the prodigal son immediately came to mind, and I shared it with him. Hunter needed to know that not only would I forgive him, but God would too. He had never heard how that young man had left his family and squandered his inheritance with what the Bible calls “wild living.” He also hadn’t heard how that, when the son finally came to his senses and returned home, the father completely and immediately welcomed, forgave, and restored him to his rightful position as a son (Luke 15:11–32).

As I shared that story of how God, our heavenly Father, welcomes us back, forgives us, and restores our lives when we return home to Him, I saw a wave of relief come over my son.

I told Hunter I forgave him and encouraged him to get right with the Lord, to keep moving forward in God’s strength. God hadn’t left Hunter to fight his battles alone; Jesus would help him. Hunter just had to give his fight to Jesus.

We arrived at the rehab facility, and the counselors took him back for the required drug test. He didn’t pass, but the counselor accepted him anyway because he recognized the change in Hunter’s attitude. He didn’t know that it had just happened during the car ride there.

Hunter was sober for 23 months before he fell back into his addiction and, as a result, was released from the program. My wife, Ginny, and I met him at the bus station. We could see he felt he had failed us again, but we decided to bring him home—23 months of sobriety meant something to us. We did have rules though, including “you use, you leave.”

For the next nine months, we had many wonderful moments and conversations with our son. But right before Thanksgiving 2015, we began to notice things missing from our home. We confronted Hunter, and he admitted to pawning those items to get money for drugs. We reminded him of the rule, and he told us he understood as he packed his bag and left.

I’m so thankful that I hugged my son that night and told him I loved him, because that was the last time I saw him alive. Hunter was hit by a car two days later while walking down the highway.

I grieved the loss of my son, and I often wondered what more I should have done to help him. Thankfully, God sent a man named John Paul to comfort me. He was a case worker at the funeral home and had known Hunter. A recovering addict himself, John Paul explained addiction in ways I’d never considered.

I had been struggling because I didn’t know if Hunter had chosen Jesus as his Savior. I didn’t have the assurance that I would see him again, like I’d had with my dad. But then, John Paul handed me a paper cross that had been in Hunter’s pocket the day he died. It had a prayer of salvation written on it. My heart was encouraged.

Not long after that, a counselor from the rehab center called. He assured me that Hunter had accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior. He even shared some of the deep conversations he and Hunter had had about the Lord. God used both these men to bring to me understanding and closure.

He also used the testimonies of many of Hunter’s friends at the funeral. Young person after young person told me how Hunter had been a source of hope and help to them even in his darkest hours. He had always been willing to help others. I was so comforted by their testimonies.

I’ve learned that God uses His children to comfort and encourage each other. Sometimes we’re on the giving end of that help, and sometimes we’re on the receiving end. Both ends are equally important, but it’s up to us to be willing to be used in the giving, and then to receive it when it comes our way.

Who can you encourage today? Even the simplest gesture—a smile, a hug, a listening ear—can make a huge difference. People all around you are facing difficult times. They need you!

On the flip side, is it time for you to receive the hope and encouragement God is sending your way? Who has been there for you, offering light? You are not alone. Give your fight to Jesus, and let Him and others help you move forward.

GREGG STOKES has experienced great loss and heartache, but a steadfast faith in God keeps him moving forward. He enjoys time with friends and family and is blessed to use his passion for watersports as an opportunity to represent Christ.

Pressing Through Trials

I and my siblings grew up in poverty. Being the strategist that I am, I came up with a plan—I would be the one child who didn’t need anything from my parents. As the oldest daughter, I helped take care of my siblings, and I did my homework and chores without being asked. I was determined not to be a burden so my parents could focus on more important things. (I was also hoping that being independent and helping around the house would get me the attention I so desperately wanted.) It didn’t work.

My strategy led my parents to believe that I was shy, but I wasn’t. I just didn’t think there was enough value in my life to deserve their attention. Certainly, neither my parents nor anyone else for that matter cared about what I had to say or think. I was pretty sure no one even noticed me. The day my father pushed me aside to hold my younger sister convinced me that he didn’t love me as much as he did her.

Unworthy. Unloved. Unimportant. That’s how I felt growing up. And Satan worked hard to cement these lies into my belief system.

My parents divorced when I was 15, and I ended up with an even larger parenting role for my younger sisters. We lived in a town full of crime, drugs, and violence, and I had to learn how to survive, fast. So I came up with another strategy—I would protect myself by hanging out and becoming friends with the people who did those things.

Those people soon became my family. We all came from similar situations, so I never had to feel bad about not having food or wearing a coat inside the house because there wasn’t any heat. I felt accepted; I had found the attention I had longed for my whole life.

Since I was often home alone, my new family came to my house, and they taught me how to sell drugs and make money. They also taught me how to carry myself on the streets. When I got a car, I discovered that my friends needed me even more. And that felt good. Maybe if they needed me, they wouldn’t leave me.

And then I met a boy, and I was flattered that he wanted to be with me all the time. The attention made me feel even better about myself. But the relationship quickly became abusive—verbally, mentally, and physically. He was lacing his joints with crack and often became violent. He would hit me or push me out of the car on dark roads in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes he would drive to the projects, lock me inside the car, and have other addicts watch me while he went into someone’s apartment to get high.

Eventually, my mom told me I had to break up with him or move out. I picked him, of course. As far as I knew, she just wanted me there to babysit so she could go out to the bars. I didn’t believe she cared about me at all. A phone call one night cemented this belief in me.

I was home, babysitting, when a man called the house, looking for my mom. I told him that she was out with her friend. He asked my name, and when I told him, his response was, “Oh, you’re the babysitter.” I told him several times that I was her oldest daughter, to which he replied, “What? She told me she only had little kids.” Then he proceeded to proclaim how messed up it was that she had lied about me.

I figured my mother must be ashamed of me. Why else would she have lied? I felt so rejected. Satan quickly used this man’s comments to confirm that I was unworthy, unloved, and unwanted—and I made many horrible choices based on the lies I believed about myself. It wasn’t until years later that I learned she hadn’t been ashamed of me at all. She had lied to hide her age.

When my boyfriend began putting out his matches on my body, I reasoned, “At least he wants to be with me.” I was so deceived. I had listened to Satan’s whispers so often that I easily settled for much less than I deserved.

I became pregnant, but my boyfriend continued to abuse me. That’s when I finally drew a line in the sand. I knew if I stayed, I could lose my baby to the hands of his father. I left that relationship, but not because I felt my life was worth protecting. Just the baby’s.
After my son’s birth, I worked hard to provide for our needs. But I also partied hard on the weekends, as I continued to live under a spirit of rejection. I went through a sexual assault, another abusive relationship, and encountered a sickness that sometimes left me paralyzed. I was a mess, and my heart was hard.

During this time, my mom surrendered her life to God. She began praying for me and talking to me about Him, but that both annoyed and angered me. I had tried that Christian thing, and I felt God had let me down by giving me such a crappy life.
But God wouldn’t leave me alone. It was obvious He was hearing the prayers of my mother. And I could feel Him poking at me, trying to get my attention.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

One day, I was lying on the couch after being laid off from a fantastic job that had had me traveling to England. Rejected and dejected once again, I decided to tell God a thing or two. “God. You cannot have me!” I yelled. I imagine He must have been rolling His eyes at me that day.

Weeks later, I picked up a book my mom had given me, called I Lived to Tell about It, by Joey Perez. It was about a former gang leader and drug lord who was now preaching in the ghetto. I read it, then I got on his website and watched videos of him preaching. I witnessed crowds of people rushing to the stage to accept Jesus. Watching those people respond to the invitation to know Jesus made me remember something that happened when I was a kid.

At the age of six, I professed faith in Jesus. I told my mother, “I’m a lost sheep, and I need Jesus. And I want to be a missionary.” Way back then, I’d had a strong desire to lead other lost sheep to Jesus. But then I lost my way.

It all came rushing back to my mind. My body began to tremble, and all my desires for the things of the world left me. It was a supernatural experience. I was filled with the power of the Holy Spirit—something I had not known about before then.

That was ten years ago, and since then, I’ve not once considered going back to my old lifestyle. Instead, I’ve sought to know Jesus more and more.

Now that doesn’t mean life has been easy. In many ways, it has been more trying. It seems all I do is encounter one difficult problem after another. And there seems to be no end in sight.

Recently, I was crying out to God about this very thing. Between sobs, I asked Him, “Why, God? Why do I have to live this way? Why does it seem like every time I get close to something good, I get pulled back into a situation that hurts more than the last one?”
As I wept, the Lord began to show me all the ways He had used my trials to increase my strength and confidence. He showed me how each one had increased my ability to help others. He did this by revealing the meaning of a dream I’d had the night before.

In my dream, I arrived in an unfamiliar place that seemed designed for team-building. Many people were there, including friends and coworkers. We were all standing on the edge of a ravine overlooking a deep, narrow gorge.

The ravine was beautiful and peaceful, yet full of unknowns. The grass on either side was lush and green, and the river at the bottom had a long, peaceful flow. It seemed to go on forever.

On both sides of the ravine, there were platforms with swings on a pulley system. I and the others were to grab a swing and then push off the side of the ravine with our feet to get to the other side. Once there, we were to climb up a ladder to the platform and repeat the exercise.

Now, in real life, I am terrified of heights. But in my dream, I wasn’t afraid. I grabbed the swing, and off I went. At first, I was barely able to hang on, and I thought I might fall. But the more effort I put forth, the more firm and secure my grip became. With each swing, my confidence grew. I had proof of my ability to make it to the other side. I began using that confidence to teach others how to swing across. My successful swings were proof that they could make it too.

As I cried out to Him, God showed me that each time I’d grabbed hold of the swing and pushed off the side of the ravine, I had gained new strength. I’d also gained momentum and confidence. Each push gave me the power I needed for the next push. My fear was absent because I was focused on swinging instead of the depth of the ravine.

God revealed that, in life, each time I refused to look at my problems and chose instead to persevere in Him, I learned invaluable lessons. When I refused to give up or slump over in weakness or pain, I gained new strength and confidence. And I gained experience to help others get to the other side of their ravines.

Because of what I’ve experienced, I can now bring comfort to others and say, “You know that thing you’re going through? That deep valley you’re facing? Well, you’re going to make it!” And then I can tell them my story. I am living proof that there is no ravine too big for God. He never fails His children.

I know that now, but I spent many decades thinking that God had abandoned me, just like everyone else in my life had done. He hadn’t.

All along, God was helping me. He was always there, on the edge of every ravine, giving me the courage to grab hold and swing one more time. His strength is what carried me to the other side. And it is His strength that will help you too.

I know life is hard, but I want to encourage you to not grow angry or bitter about the trials you are facing. Bitterness will leave you powerless. God knows what you are going through, and He will help you. Just keep swinging. Keep taking that leap of faith and push forward with Him.

Psalm 121 promises that God watches over you. He keeps your feet from slipping and keeps you from all harm. Isaiah 40:29–31 promises that He will uphold you and give you new strength as you trust Him.

When you’re facing a trial, don’t quit. Instead, say, “Okay, God. We’re going to have to swing across another ravine. I need Your strength and wisdom. Would You please show me what I need to learn? And Lord, let me use my experiences to help others get to the other side of their ravines, too.” And then push off that ledge with confidence.
You might not feel like you can do it again. If so, I suggest you look for some godly counseling. It took years of intentional work for me to discover my true worth and identity in Christ. I attended Christ-centered counseling, read many books on rejection, and spent much time alone with God. But it was all worth it because today, I am finally free of the enemy’s bondage. And I am determined to stay free.

Want to know what motivates me? It’s the fact that Satan has already robbed me of so much. I refuse to give him one more moment of victory in my life. I refuse to provide him any more space in my heart or mind. I am done listening to his lies.

Let that be your motivation, too, and then commit to trusting God, living for Him, and representing Him well in every situation—no matter how difficult.

Only you can choose to keep persevering with God.

JENNIFER MUNSON is the owner of Munson Media and the author of two published books. Less Than tells her prodigal story, and Hope in the Midst of Suffering is a 30-day devotional helping people overcome the enemy’s lies. Visit JenniferMunson.org for more details.

Draw Close to God

You never know where life will lead you. In May 2020, I was in an unfamiliar place of isolation and anxiety. Due to the pandemic, I was working from home. Being separated from coworkers, friends, family, and even my church was taking a toll. Of course, the uncertainty in the world wasn’t helping.

I was battling intense loneliness and anxiety, and I needed to know God was there. So I cried out, asking Him for help.

I had never been one to study the Word of God. Though I had asked Jesus to be my Savior when I was seven, I didn’t have a personal relationship with Him, nor had I ever tried to get to know Him through His Word. Suddenly, I realized it was time to stop telling myself the Bible was too difficult to understand.

I knew I needed to draw closer to God, so I committed to studying His Word daily. Determined, I put away the things that always distracted me—the iPad, phone calls, texts, everything. It was time to focus on developing my relationship with God. I needed some serious God-and-me time.

I quickly found that the more time I set apart with Him, the more alive and less lonely I began to feel. Handing over my worries to Him helped settle my emotions. Every day, God’s Spirit revealed new truths to me.

I had been a believer for 41 years, but all I had to show for it was faithful church attendance. I had never considered who God wanted me to be or do. I had lived my life for me. What a shame that it took a global pandemic to move me out of my spiritual complacency. I asked the Lord to forgive me.

With a new hunger for the Bible and fresh revelation of God’s goodness, my faith grew. And I found new courage. “Lord,” I prayed, “search me and remove the distractions that are keeping me from fulfilling Your design for my life. Remove the obstacles that impair my ability to fulfill Your purpose for me. Lord, show me the way You would have me go. I want to glorify You. Amen.”

They say be careful what you pray for.

I had recently discovered Kristi Overton Johnson on social media, and her posts encouraged me and helped me learn more about God. I also learned about this magazine and its impact behind bars. I felt God leading me to contact the ministry and ask how I could volunteer.

I had no idea what I could do to help in their mission of delivering hope to the incarcerated, but I knew it was where God wanted me to serve. I was invited to participate in a Shine Bright and Write correspondence event at a local church. Victorious Living receives thousands of letters from incarcerated people, and at that event, I got to respond to a few of them on the ministry’s behalf.

The idea of writing to people in prison was way out of my comfort zone. I had never known anyone behind bars, but from the moment I wrote my first letter, I loved the concept of sharing God’s love with others in this way.

The day after the event, I contacted Linda Cubbedge-Smith, VL’s Director of Correspondence, and asked if I could write more. She sent me several letters needing to be answered. The more I read and responded, the more God’s love for those who are incarcerated grew within me.

I served in a few other volunteer capacities at Victorious Living over the next several months, and then, when Mrs. Linda announced her retirement, Kristi offered the director’s position to me. It took about one second for me to accept the invitation! Mrs. Linda officially passed the torch to me on July 1, and I was honored and excited to accept it.

When you commit to draw close to God, He will draw near to you (James 4:8), and He will lead you to places you never imagined, where you will find blessing far beyond measure.

He has a plan—and it’s a good one!

CARLA OWENS loves the Lord and seeks to know Him more intimately daily. She is the new director of the Victorious Living Prison Correspondence Team.

Inside Witness

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14–16 NIV).

God called me into prison to be a light as an educator. And I was more than a little reluctant.

I had already worked in the Florida Department of Corrections in my early 30s, and it hadn’t been the best experience. Prison is truly a place where heaven and hell collide. It is a community within itself where darkness tries to rule and reign. For that reason, I believe the challenges of teaching behind bars far exceed those of teaching anywhere else.

Being an educator in the prison system is complicated. There were times the compound would be locked down for days, weeks, or even months, and I wouldn’t be able to see my students at all. When they could finally return to class, they had forgotten much of what they’d learned. It seemed we were constantly starting over.

The first time I worked there, I taught 18 months before leaving the system. But 15 years later, in 2013, I sensed God calling me to return. I asked Him why, and He told me that I had not accomplished the mission the first time around. I had not used my time there to be a light in the darkness; I had gone in only to fulfill my duties as a teacher.

“Go,” He said, “and do what I told you to do the first time. I’ve given you a voice; now go use it for My glory.”

I wish I could say I ran back through the prison gates in obedience, but I didn’t. Like many of God’s children, I’m thick-headed. And I gave Him every excuse as to why I couldn’t and shouldn’t return to prison. But just like God wouldn’t accept Moses’s excuses in Exodus 3 and 4, He wouldn’t have mine either.

I continued to argue with Him, and it soon felt like God was giving me a good whipping. I lost my peace, I couldn’t sleep, and I became restless. Weeks passed, and finally, my husband said, “Dietra, you need to do what God is calling you to do. You’ll be okay. He will be with you.”

On February 28, 2013, I finally put my excuses aside and accepted a position with the Florida Department of Corrections as a Title 1 educator. My job was to instruct inmates under the age of 22 in reading, math, and language. The next eight years would prove to be the most rewarding years of my life.

I began my job on graduation day, and I attended the ceremony where several inmates received their high school diplomas. I was amazed. The speakers, singers, musicians—all of whom were inmates—were so talented. I thanked God for allowing me to witness such awesomeness behind those prison walls.

Stepping into the classroom, however, presented challenges. Many of the men wanted nothing to do with school. They hadn’t gone to school when they were on the streets, they said, and they certainly were not going to go now. But Title 1 is a government-mandated program for every inmate under the age of 22.

I had my work cut out for me. It took about a week for the stares, whispers, and theatrics I had been told to expect to begin. I faced a lot of resistance, but I kept praying and, in God’s strength, held my own. It wasn’t long before I could see evidence of Jesus taking control.

One day I saw a young man writing a letter to his mother. I was impressed because not many people wrote letters anymore. The following Monday, he came to my classroom. “I know you are a woman of God,” he said, “and I told my mama about you this weekend.” He had been writing about me! And then he asked what he needed to do to be saved by God.

I replied, “Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ who suffered, bled, and died for your sins?” He said he did, and right there in my classroom, he prayed to receive Jesus as his Savior. The presence of the Holy Spirit was so evident. I told the young man his life would take a turn for the better. He told me he’d been a gang banger. His role in the gang was to fight and beat people up. He admitted he was tired of that lifestyle and determined not to go back. And he was true to his word, too. He worked his way up from a sixth-grade level to high school.

After his release, his mother called the institution to thank me. She said her son
was not the same man who had gone to prison. I told her the honor went to God; He alone had brought about the change in her son. Today, that young man has his high school diploma and is gainfully employed, married, and doing well. God is so amazing!

That day wasn’t just a turning point for that young man. It was one for me too. I began bringing in Bibles and formed a devotion and prayer group in my classroom. Soon 20 or more men were gathering daily in my classroom for prayer and devotions. We prayed together and cried as God showed up and showed out. It was so obvious He was moving in the hearts of those men and that He had given me an assignment. I was determined to do everything in my power to draw more souls to Jesus.

One day, the warden came to my room. He had heard what I was doing and asked me to tell him about it. So I did, and we began sharing our Christian experiences. I thanked the Lord that such a godly man was leading our facility.

Another day, a young man brought in a Victorious Living magazine for me to read. I looked at it after the students left and could not put it down. I asked if anyone else had past issues of Victorious Living, and if they did, to please bring them to me. I put all the issues on a shelf near the door in my classroom and created a sign-in/sign-out sheet. I couldn’t keep magazines on that shelf; they were in such demand.

I came up with a rule that anyone who signed out this magazine would have to share their story too. I wanted to encourage the guys to read but also to express themselves through writing and speaking. So much healing took place as they began sharing their life experiences and how they had ended up in prison. I reminded them of similar life stories in Victorious Living and encouraged them that what God had done for those authors, He could do for them too.

Teaching these men and seeing the move of God didn’t keep me from heartache, however. When I returned to work one Monday morning, I learned there had been a murder in the prison. My heart sank to my stomach. When I was told who had died, I let out a scream. That, of course, brought the officers running. You’re not supposed to show that kind of emotion in prison, especially as a staff member. But I cried until I had no tears left.

Joshua had been my student, an aspiring GED candidate. He was so bubbly and full of joy. He always came to class ready to work. I can still see his smiling face. So many inmates and staff came by my office to offer their condolences. They knew how much I loved Joshua—they had often called him the teacher’s pet.

The mood on the compound grew dark, and I felt I needed to do something to lift spirits. I contacted a friend and invited him to come speak. John (not his real name) was a believer and a former inmate. Since his release, God had blessed him immensely. Over 300 inmates attended the event in the chapel, and 15 men gave their lives to the Lord that day. I shouted and praised God until my shoes came off! He had answered my prayers; He had not let Joshua’s death be in vain.

A few days later, Satan used a student to attack me and threaten my life. This student had murdered before, and he told me clearly what he was going to do to me. But I wasn’t afraid. I was on an assignment for God. I was where He had sent me, so I knew I could trust Him to protect me. I don’t know where that young man is now, but I pray God has touched his heart and saved his soul.

So many men impacted my life during my time as an educator, but several stand out. One is Ray, a man serving a 50-year sentence for a robbery. Ray was a leader of our prayer and devotion group and a true testament of God’s goodness. He came to prison at the age of 25 and is now halfway through his sentence. Through Ray, I learned that while I am not perfect, God was using me perfectly for the assignment He had for me.

Another one, Wayne, is a 65-year-old man with a five-year sentence. He is a mighty man of God who continues to press forward despite his failing eyesight. Ray and Wayne encouraged me often when I felt like giving up.

I remember, too, a smart young man named David who had many leadership qualities. I often talked with him about being his own person and not being influenced by peer pressure. David listened and buckled down and got his high school diploma. He went back to court, and the same judge who had sentenced him granted him an immediate release. On his way out of prison, he stopped by my classroom to thank me. I pray that he is continuing down a good path.

There are so many more. Some days I was a mother, grandmother, auntie, or sister to these men. Other days, I was a counselor, physician, nurse, or preacher. Regardless of the role, I made sure to give them a safe and peaceful place where they could feel valued and loved. I thank God for choosing me to be His vessel of love and hope as an educator for all those years.

If you are one of my former students, I pray that you will be encouraged. God used you to impact my life! Keep your head up and your eyes on Him, not your circumstances. God has a plan, so keep praying and believing and receiving all that He wants to give you. Keep working hard. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. Get your education, get into programs, and better yourself for the glory of God.

That goes for everyone, actually.

To those who are working within the prison system, I want to encourage you too. I know the challenges you face are unique. Even so, remember: God can use you to change the atmosphere of prison through the lives you impact. Don’t grow weary of doing good, for in due time, you shall reap a reward (Galatians 6:9). God sees your efforts.

Policies make it difficult to build relationships with inmates; sometimes it’s even prohibited. I was labeled an “inmate lover” for years. But isn’t loving people what God calls us to do? Nothing should prevent us from showing respect and treating incarcerated men and women as God intends. I believe the respect you give will be returned to you many times over by the men and women you oversee.

Finally, if you are reading my story and don’t fall into either of these categories, let me encourage you too. God calls every believer to bring light to the darkened world, to be the inside witness of the goodness of God. Sometimes, the path is easy, but sometimes He invites us to difficult, stormy places like prison.

No matter where the assignment is, go! Don’t be afraid. If God is sending you, He will open doors and provide everything you need and more. He will protect you too. Don’t miss what God has in store for you.

I’m telling you, there’s just nothing like being on an adventure with God.

DIETRA LOVETT served as an educator, minister, mother, grandmother, author, and life coach for ten years in the Florida DOC. In March of 2018, she was awarded the Title One Instructor of the Year for the Florida Department of Corrections.

A Hand of Hope in the Darkness: The Story of Jesus Christ

My Body, Broken for You

It was the night of my arrest.

For quite some time, the powers that be had been seeking to take me into custody. They had been busy gathering and twisting “evidence” and securing their witnesses. No one cared to know the truth; they just wanted me out of the picture. I was feared and misunderstood.

I prayed hard that night, pleading with God to take away the cup of suffering I was about to drink. God‘s plan would cost me everything—even my life. Still, I had peace. I knew that the things to come were necessary. They were all part of His bigger plan, and they were for the sake of all people. So, I found the courage to surrender my will to His and complete His purposes for me.

Those closest to me, however, couldn’t understand. They had trouble accepting my fate. The plan wasn‘t panning out the way they thought it should. It rarely does. They couldn‘t see past what was happening because they didn‘t know the end of the story. But one day, they would, and they would be grateful for the plan. They would even make sacrifices of their own.

I pleaded with God to wrap His arms around my loved ones. They needed the comfort of His presence and the protection of His love to endure the coming days. Satan was busy looking for opportunities to flood their hearts with fear and their minds with doubt. Only by focusing on God‘s promises and remaining unified in His love could they stand firm.

It was quite a scene when the soldiers and police arrived to take me into custody. They were armed and ready for a fight. I wasn‘t going to give them one, and neither would those who were with me.

Leading the way was a friend who had betrayed me for a bag of money. He knew where I‘d be that night because he’d often been there with me. He was part of my inner circle; I had shared everything with him. His decision to betray me would cost him much, though. It never profits a man to gain the world when he loses his soul in the process.

The rest of the group was caught off guard by this friend‘s betrayal, but I knew it was coming. His greed often got the best of him. Sadly, he wouldn‘t be the only one who would betray me before the night was over. My most dedicated and determined friend was about to deny he knew me.

Human nature often chooses self-preservation over loyalty and integrity.

I’d already forgiven them, though. I didn’t want the weight that anger and resentment would bring. I put them and all my enemies into God’s hands and trusted Him to use their actions for His purposes. God doesn’t waste anything—especially pain, disappointment, or hardship. That’s His way—He weaves everything together for His glory.

The officials expedited my trial. It was nothing more than a formality. Too many people wanted me eliminated, and nothing would change the outcome.

It didn’t matter that I was innocent. According to the officials, I was guilty of the most serious of crimes. I was a dead man walking, and they would torture me to the extent of the law.

Hundreds of people watched as we made our way to the site of my execution. More gathered to watch, waiting for my final moments. Some wailed and mourned over the injustice of what was happening to me, but most celebrated my death. They yelled and screamed, laughed and jeered, and hurled insults at me. Some even spit in my face. The fire of hatred in their eyes was as intense as the fire of pain pulsating through my body from where I had been viciously beaten. The officers even played games and gambled for my clothing.

My heart ached at the chaotic scene. “Oh Father, forgive them,” I prayed. They had no idea what they were really doing or who they were doing it to.

Then I saw my dear mother. Tears were streaming down her face. The depth of her grief was obvious. I could feel her pain. God had chosen her for a special assignment, too, and her life hadn’t been easy. Few people had understood His plan for her. God’s ways are often hard to understand—but even then, we can trust Him. Despite the difficulties, though, my mother has loved and cared for me every day, just as God intended.

I know she felt helpless for not shielding me from the hate and injustice of the world—but even her love couldn’t have protected me from this. All anyone could do now was trust God to make this right. I knew, of course, that He would, but oh, how thankful I was that He and our loyal friends would care for her after I was gone.

Suddenly, intense pain radiated through my body, jolting my mind back to the reality of my situation. The soldiers had driven large stakes through my wrists and feet. Those stakes and some rough rope were the only things holding me to that old, rugged cross. Well, that and my reason for being there.

Blood trickled down my forehead and into my eyes from the wreath of thick thorns the soldiers had pressed into my brow during their pre-execution games. My vision grew blurry. I was getting weaker and thirstier by the moment. The cross was getting slippery from the blood pouring from my hands and feet. Gravity pulled me downward, and I could no longer find the strength to push up against it. My lungs filled with fluid, and I gasped for air.

Two criminals hung on crosses to my right and left. They were experiencing similar pain, and I could hear their groanings. We had been hanging there for hours. Our time on earth would soon be over.

“If you’re so powerful,” one of them taunted, “why don’t you get down off that cross and save yourself? And save us while you’re at it.”

He didn’t realize it, but my hanging on that cross was the only way I could save him. Sadly, his pride and selfish desires would keep him from receiving God’s gift of salvation. He wasn’t concerned with his eternal destination; he just wanted out of his current situation so he could return to his dead-end life. It didn’t have to be that way.

The other criminal saw things differently. “Don’t you fear God?” he protested. “You and I are getting what we deserve for the things we did, but this man hasn’t done anything wrong.” Then he said to me, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

He didn’t ask me to get him off the cross. Instead, he reached toward me with the only thing he could—his heart—and asked me to take him with me to heaven. In a moment of clarity, he focused on the things to come and wished to experience a different life than the one he had lived. With his words of faith, everything suddenly became right for him.

He found peace and hope in the middle of hardship. His past mistakes were swept away in the flow of blood that poured from my veins. Because he recognized his guilt and acknowledged my innocence and believed I was the Messiah, the Son of God, the Savior of the world, he now had the promise of eternal life.

His death wasn’t the end for him; it was the beginning. I heard heaven rejoice when this man repented of his sin. How thankful I was that God’s love had met him in his most desperate hour and in a place where his sin was publicly exposed. God the Father wasn’t scared off by his sin, nor was I. God doesn’t want anyone to perish—not even a criminal.

You know, people like him are who I came down from heaven to save. People who’ve made grave mistakes and who’ve gone astray. People the world hates and wants to eliminate. People who feel less than, who have no hope for their future.

God loved him (and the rest of the world) so much that He sent me, His one and only Son, to die. With my life, I paid the penalty for their sin—I was the perfect sacrifice required, the spotless Lamb. It was a price they could never pay, for the wages of sin is death. But God arranged it so that whoever calls on my name in faith will be saved. Because of me, they can now experience light, order, and healing in their dark, chaotic, and broken lives.

I looked over at the broken man beside me. “Today,” I promised him, “you will be with me in paradise.”

Our conversation ended as darkness suddenly came over the land. It was high noon, yet the earth became as dark as night. For the next three hours, I hung in agony as the sin of the whole world landed directly on my shoulders. The full measure of God’s wrath came against me. I was crushed, just as the prophet Isaiah said I would be.

Still, I stayed there. I knew this was God’s plan, and I endured the pain of the cross for the joy of knowing that others would be saved. That didn’t make it easy, though.

The weight of the world’s sin and the agony of my heart overwhelmed my senses and hid the truth of God’s love. I couldn’t feel God’s presence anymore.

“Oh, Father,” I cried. “Why have You forsaken me?” I was alone. Nonetheless, even in that place of utter darkness, I trusted what I knew to be true in the light—God’s love would never fail me.

“It is finished!” I called out with the loudest voice I could muster.

My work on earth was complete. I had walked in obedience; I had willingly laid down my life. There were no barriers left, none of any kind, no further requirements of performance, no more death sentence for sin. I had made a way—the only way—for all of humankind to come to God. My sacrifice had fulfilled all His requirements, once and for all. My body, my blood, given freely for all.

To everyone else, everything seemed hopeless at that moment, but I knew morning would come. It always does.

I, Jesus, the Light of the World, would rise again.

Jesus, Light of the World

Can I just say, I am so glad that Jesus’s execution isn’t the end of the story—not for Him, and not for us. The Bible tells us that three days later, He came out of that grave, fully alive, fully God, and fully man. By doing so, Jesus proved His deity, conquered death, and destroyed every work of our enemy, Satan.

Do you know what I love most about God’s redemption story? It’s that the Light of the World returned to those He loved. If I was the one who was beaten, spit on, and nailed to a cross by those I had come to save, I would have hightailed it to my heavenly home and throne.

But Jesus didn’t. He stayed on earth for another 40 days to encourage His friends, even the ones who had denied, deserted, and doubted Him. He assured them of His love and reminded them of truth. And before He left, He promised to send a Helper—the Holy Spirit—to guide and protect them. Jesus’s followers would never be alone again.

And neither are we. His Spirit is here, empowering and enabling us to fulfill His will and to transform us into His image. There’s nowhere we can go that His hand of hope and heart of light won’t find us.

Friend, God cares for us so much that, through Jesus, He put on flesh so He could identify with us in every way. He understands our pain because Jesus faced every hard thing on this earth—humiliation, rejection, persecution, abandonment, temptation, hardship, physical hunger and thirst, death—and the list goes on. He wants to reach into our pain to save us.

In fact, He’s reaching out to you this very moment—but you must grab His hand. Like that man on the cross, you must call out to Him with your mouth and reach toward Him with your heart. Yes, it’s that simple. Romans 10:9 NLT says, “If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” The moment we acknowledge our sin and need for Jesus to be our Savior, God reaches into our darkness and saves us. We don’t have to do anything to earn His love. We don’t even have to get cleaned up first. His love and His blood make us clean.

When God looks at you, He doesn’t see “a thief on a cross.” He sees someone worth the very life of His Son. You are the reason Jesus came. You are the reason He stayed on that cross and died a brutal death. Even while you were a sinner, Jesus died for you. Don’t you love that God saved that man while he was hanging on the cross, completely exposed in his sin? There is hope for all who will accept Jesus.

Satan has worked overtime to keep you from the light and life found in Christ. He recognizes your potential and knows the power and authority God gives you through His Son. That’s why he has attacked you since your birth and tried to convince you that God doesn’t love or care for you, or that He isn’t there.

But Satan is a liar—John 8:44 calls him the father of lies. Don’t let him keep you in the dark. Don’t be like the other man on the cross who chose to die angry, bitter, and alone. His fate was eternal darkness because he rejected the Light of the World’s gift of eternal life.

Choose life. Grab God’s hand of hope. Leave your darkness behind and come into the Light of Christ today.

Or maybe you made that choice a long time ago. Maybe you took His hand, but then the troubles of the world and the desires of your heart led you astray. Is it too late for you? Have you gone too far? No! God still loves you. Jesus still died for you. Come back and grab hold again. It’s never too late to return to the One who will never stop loving you.

Kristi Overton Johnson encourages and equips people for victory through her writings, speaking engagements, and prison ministry. To learn more, go to kojministries.org.

Let God Bring about Change

When I first made Jesus my Lord and Savior, I had no idea what I’d signed up for. I meant every word when I confessed to God that I was a tired sinner and wanted to change, but I had no clue how I could get by in the world or take care of myself by any other means than the questionable survival skills that I had relied on for so many years. I was alone, in pain, and miserable. But it was that desperation that led me to a moment of sincere surrender. I prayed and asked God to show me how to live and be different.

As I began to read and study the Bible, I learned a lot about God’s role as the provider for His people. When I was in the world, material things and money were all that mattered to me. When I read that God would provide everything I need, I immediately equated His provision with those things. And then the Lord led me to a verse in scripture that changed my entire view on how and what God provides. It’s not just about things. Instead, it was confirmation that He’d heard me in the beginning when I cried out that I needed His help.

Second Peter 1:3–4 NLT says, “By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence. And because of his glory and excellence, he has given us great and precious promises. These are the promises that enable you to share his divine nature and escape the world’s corruption caused by human desires.”

I found so much encouragement and clarity in these words. They opened my heart to realize that I had totally misunderstood the Christian life. I thought I would have to do something extraordinary in order to win God’s approval or to get Him to accept me before I could have a real shot at a new life. But His Word says it is by His divine power, not mine, that I am given everything I need to live life His way.

God is calling every single one of us to Himself, and He has a “come as you are” policy. He knows that the deepest need any of us will ever have is for a Savior. He provided that to us through the work of His Son on the cross (John 3:16). We take our very first step in answering His call when we believe with our hearts and confess with our mouths that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the only way to salvation. We then receive the Holy Spirit into our hearts. That is when our behavior, our thinking, and our desires begin to change. That’s how we find the lasting transformation that none of us will ever achieve apart from Jesus.

Life is not a journey we must make on our own. God assures us through His Word and His promises that, if we commit our life to Him and trust Him, He will establish our plans (Psalm 32:8, Proverbs 16:3). What a relief it is when we learn that God never leaves us where He found us. His plan for our lives is so much better than anything we could ever have imagined on our own (Jeremiah 29:11; Ephesians 3:20).

Because of His glory, excellence, and grace, I have begun to experience the abundance of His promises coming to pass in my life. God knew that my deepest needs could only be met by finding my way to Him through Jesus. Will you surrender your heart and your life to Christ today and allow Him to provide you with everything you need for a better life too?

CHRISTINA KIMBREL serves as VL’s production manager. Once incarcerated, she now ministers hope to those held captive by their past and current circumstances while sharing the message of healing she found in Jesus.

Break the Cycle: Don’t Be a Statistic

My life should be a statistic. However, by the grace of God, it has become an anomaly. And yours can too.

I am the product of a one-night stand. My parents were nineteen, both running away from oppressive family backgrounds and completely unprepared for parenthood. Their marriage didn’t last long. My mother got custody, and we moved to California.

Men were in and out of our lives as my mother tried, without success, to fill the void within herself. It was a downward spiral of affairs, abuse, and addiction. When I was five, she downed a bottle of pills in a suicide attempt. I was sent to Illinois to live with my father, who had remarried.

Two weeks later, his wife announced she would not raise another woman’s son, and they took me to a doorstep and left me there. I have never forgotten the fear of standing at that door, alone, afraid to knock, not knowing what or who was on the other side.

Two foster homes later, I was reunited with my mother, who had completed her rehab, but she was not the same. Anger and bitterness now controlled her, and she blamed me for the circumstances of her life.

Living in poverty with a mother who had little capacity for anything more than survival was challenging. She provided me with one pair of shoes per year and hand-me-down clothing. She cut my hair herself in our moldy home.

In addition to the poverty, there was the constant presence of her vindictive anger. I loved my mom, but I was afraid of her spiteful and irrational words and the blows of her angry hands. But most of all, I was afraid she would take her own life.

She remarried for the third time when I was eight, and we moved to Texas. My stepfather worked at a lumber mill, and for a short while, life seemed normal. However, old cycles soon returned.

When I was 14, my mother attempted to take her life again and was placed in psychiatric care. She and my stepfather divorced, and I moved back to California with him. Sadly, he wasn’t much better than she was.

During my junior year in high school, I moved out on my own. I put on a good face, and my friends envied what they thought was freedom. But their parents saw me for what I was—a poor kid without a family who had somehow evaded the system.

I was filled with anger, self-doubt, and frustration. Everyone else had so much more than I had and were so far ahead of me. Why was my life so hard? What was wrong with me?

I’d worked twice as hard for everything I had, and that wasn’t much. And no matter how hard I worked, I never got ahead. I craved what others had, and the injustice of it all made me bitter. Opportunities and second chances were few and far between, and I knew I had no room for error.

If only someone would see how hard I worked and give me a chance—a shot at becoming something.

Everything changed one night when a jar of jelly slipped through my hands and shattered on the floor. It was all I had left to eat. I sank to the floor, broken to pieces myself, and realized I couldn’t continue living that way.

In desperation, I packed my truck, left California, and moved to Washington, where I didn’t know a soul. I had one goal—to get into college. I didn’t care which one, and I was prepared to do whatever it would take to be accepted.

A Christian college in Spokane, Washington, gave me a chance, but I was more of a fish out of water than ever. I was not a Christian, I didn’t come from a middle- or upper-class family, and I wasn’t on a scholarship. Unlike everyone else there, I worked full time. I also partied, and I didn’t go to church. Classmates looked down on me because I was so different. Frankly, I looked down on them too, because I considered them arrogant and spoiled.

In the middle of my freshman year, I got so drunk that I couldn’t drive. The following morning, I was sitting in my truck sobering up when it occurred to me that the fact I was so angry with God proved that I must believe in Him. I had insisted I didn’t, but how could I be mad at someone if I didn’t believe in them?

With that realization came another—if I was going to admit that God existed, then I’d better somehow live as if He did. Belief carried demand. I came back from Christmas break that year and declared a religion major, so I could learn about God.

By the middle of my sophomore year, however, I began waking up in a terrible rage, wanting to destroy everything in sight. It was so uncontrollable that I often stayed in bed until I could wake up in a better mood.

I started seeing a counselor. And to be honest, that sucked. The counselor made me wade through every bad childhood memory I had worked so hard to forget. But in the process, I learned many things that put my life on a different trajectory.

First, I learned that everyone’s pain is just as real and painful to them as mine is to me. My human nature wanted to put suffering on a spectrum. But since I’d never experienced another person’s pain, I couldn’t say that mine was worse. Pain is pain. And it hurts no matter who we are.

Second, I learned that I carried my parents’ DNA and genetic makeup, whether I liked it or not. Because of that, I would be like my parents in some ways. Up until counseling, I had desperately tried not to resemble them in any fashion. I resented my parents, yet I kept seeing their traits in me, and that both scared me and made me angry.

My counselor helped me shift my focus from being afraid of being like my parents to choosing to become the best form of them. My goal was to be my parents redeemed; to be the person that, for whatever reason, they had never become.

Next, I learned the impact of fatherlessness on my life. I’d always told myself it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a dad, but it did. The truth was, I had never gotten over being left on that doorstep when I was five. From that moment on, I had felt unwanted and worthless, constantly wondering what made me so unlovable.

I mean, my friends’ fathers didn’t abandon them, but me? Not only had my father left me, he’d gotten married again and has kids that he kept. It’s a wound I may never completely understand or get over.

Because of fatherlessness, I’ve lived in constant self-doubt and fear, feeling judged by everyone. I believed I was destined to fail. And I knew that, when I failed, there would be no one there to pick me up.

My counselor helped me reflect on my pain and process my hurt. Doing so gave me a measure of control over my future. Before counseling, my emotions controlled me. My hurt and anger drove me, and I blamed everyone else for the circumstances of my life.

I have learned, however, that I alone have control over where my life will go. My parents and the worlds they lived in may have determined my past, but I control my future—or I can, if I choose to.

I do not have to follow in my parents’ footsteps, nor do I have to give in to depression or anger. I don’t have to live in bitterness. No, I can forge my own future, and in doing so, I can change the pathway for my children. It’s up to me to break the endless cycles of abuse, addiction, abandonment, and poverty. I just have to have the courage to do so.

Finally, I learned the value of community. In my last two years of college, I gained a group of friends who took the time to get to know, embrace, challenge, and love me. And they held me accountable. They prayed over me, invited me to dinner, and showed me how healthy families function. They walked beside me as I strove to change my future.

I don’t know if I’d have succeeded without them. These friends gave me hope when it was waning, courage when I lacked it, and companionship when I felt utterly alone. They were the hands and feet of Christ and provided light when I was otherwise surrounded by darkness.

I am a unique creation of God. Genesis 1:26 says I bear the image and stamp of God. He took the time to handcraft me uniquely! That means that, whether my family recognizes it or not, whether those around me recognize it or not, and whether I fully believe it or not—I have worth. I have value. And I have a purpose for my future.

Once I knew that, I strove to keep that sense of worth at the forefront of my mind. I set out to live into that godly future—one decision, one step at a time. I was determined to learn from my past mistakes so I wouldn’t repeat them. I learned how to recognize negative life cycles so I could break them. I decided it was time to end the excuses and quit blaming others for how my life had turned out. It was time to take positive control and own my own actions.

And with God’s help and patience, all that happened. My life headed into the future God had intended all along.

Today, I am 47 years old. My life has taken more twists and turns than I can count. I was the first in my family to go to college, and I have since gone on to graduate school—twice. I served in the military, became an ordained minister, and am currently running a successful business with my wife.

She and I have been happily married for 13 years. Together, we have four beautiful children whose lives are completely different than mine was at their age. They have no clue of my past hardships or how painful the world can be. We have provided them shelter and safety. I find great joy in knowing I have created a better future for them than the one I was given. My children will not be held captive by the circumstances of my upbringing.

It hasn’t been easy. The ghosts of my past—fear, doubt, insecurity, anger, worthlessness, and unworthiness—still show up at times, but I no longer give in to them.

With God’s help, I push them aside and challenge myself to take another step forward, to make that next right decision.

I do it for me. I do it for God. And I do it for my kids, because I want their world to be better than mine was. I want them to be innocent. I want them to feel valued and loved and treasured.

I want them to know they can do anything they set their hearts to.

And I do it because cycles don’t break unless people like you and me take it upon our shoulders to do the hard work to break them. Change starts with us!

GREGG GREEN is an ordained minister with a passion for ministry, service, fellowship, and great food. He and his wife own and operate a family bakery.