Who’s Your Navigator?

“Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow” (Psalm 25:4 NLT).

When David and I were newly married, neither of our cars had a navigation system. Eager to embrace my new role as my husband’s helper, I seized the opportunity to assist him with directions whenever he drove somewhere unfamiliar. There was only one problem. I’m not a good navigator. In fact, my directions got us lost. A lot.

Even using a map app on my phone, we routinely missed turns and whizzed past the correct highway exits. David, who likes to be on time, finally drew the line when we arrived significantly late for an appointment. My wrong directions had us driving around in circles.

I was not only stripped of my duties as his navigation helper, but another woman soon replaced me. She wasn’t a relative or even a trusted family friend, yet I watched her influence my husband’s decisions, and it was a little annoying how much he liked her.

Who was this shameless, job-stealing intruder? She didn’t even have a name. She was the voice behind the navigation system in our new car, and to this day, she resides inside the dashboard. She has conquered my husband’s heart as his preferred resource for directions.

I must admit that “Dashboard Lady” is seldom wrong, so, really, it’s difficult to dislike her. She notifies us of dangers and detours on the road ahead, and when we listen to her directions, we get where we’re supposed to be—on time! She and I now coexist quite peacefully since she has proven to be more of a help than a hindrance in our marriage, particularly on long road trips.

In our cars and in everyday life, it’s easy to wander off the track at times. It’s easy to get lost.

As followers of Christ, the path we’re called to travel can be full of difficult circumstances, situations, and even people. If we aren’t getting our directions from a trustworthy source, we’ll wind up in places we could have avoided. When we go our way, we complicate life for ourselves and others unnecessarily. We stumble into conflict with friends, loved ones, and even strangers because we’re veering too far off God’s path (Proverbs 4:26–27).

In contrast, if we seek the Lord in all matters, He promises to direct our path and keep us from going in the wrong direction (Psalm 16:11; Proverbs 3:6). He equips His children with the best possible navigation system through His Word (Psalm 119:105), and provides unlimited access to Him through prayer and the presence of His Holy Spirit.

In Psalm 25, King David understood the benefit of seeking guidance from God. He trusted that the Lord would lead him with unfailing love and faithfulness (Psalm 25:10), and he depended on that direction to help him find his way through life.

God freely offers His direction, and we needn’t be one bit ashamed to admit that we need His help.

If today you’ve wandered a little too far from God or feel like you might be lost, don’t be discouraged. You just need some good directions or maybe some redirection. God is generous in helping you with His wisdom when you don’t know which way to turn or how to live, think, act, and speak. All you have to do is ask (James 1:5).

No matter how lost you think you are, your Creator knows your exact location. And He will never leave you stranded.

Open your Bible, listen for the Lord’s voice, and walk boldly in faith. Trust that when God is leading you, He has already gone ahead of you to prepare the way. He sees the dangers and distractions ahead and knows when you might need to make a U-turn or take a detour. He will never abandon you (Deuteronomy 31:8) and will always guide you in the best direction for your life (Psalm 32:8).

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.

A Willing Heart

As a little girl, I dreamed of being a singer, an FBI agent, or maybe a forensic investigator like you see on true-crime TV. What was not on my list was working in the prison system. In fact, I decided early in my life that working there was not something I was going to do.

Prisons surrounded our home in Raiford, Florida, and my parents and other family members worked at one of the nearby prisons. It wasn’t uncommon to see Department of Corrections (DOC) vans racing by our house, responding to escapes and other incidents. It was the only time we ever locked our doors in our tiny little town. But I had zero interest in anything that happened inside that razor wire.

My parents were young when they had me. They married and grew up faster than if they had waited to start a family. Soon after my youngest sister came along, they split up. My sisters and I lived with our mom and visited our dad on weekends and during school breaks.

Divorce brought many challenges, including a sense of uncertainty for my siblings and me. But we managed to adjust, even after both parents remarried. The upside was that we gained new brothers and sisters, whom I grew to love dearly.

My mom worked long hours, pulling double shifts to make ends meet. Dad was strict and protective of his daughters. He spoke his mind and tolerated no boys, nonsense, or disrespect in his home. I lived with him for a while in high school, and I remember complaining that I was the only senior who had to be in bed by 9:30 p.m.

The family as a whole made it a priority to keep us girls in church. We spent a lot of time there and at youth events. I learned to regard the Lord with reverence and fear (Psalm 111:10; Proverbs 9:10).

If not for the foundation of faith established early in my life, I could have easily become a negative statistic. But Jesus not only saved me for eternity, He also protected me from myself and the pitfalls of the world.

I developed a solid work ethic while in high school. My after-school job at Hardee’s helped me earn money for the things I needed. I worked hard for everything I had, including good grades. In May 1987, I graduated with a scholarship that opened the door for me to go to college.

Working full-time in fast food and attending a full schedule of classes was exhausting, but I was determined to finish what I’d started and graduate with at least an associate degree. While I hadn’t yet figured out what I wanted to do, I was sure my career wouldn’t involve corrections.

But God’s agenda for my life looked quite different from my plan (Isaiah 55:8–9), and He wasted no time putting the right people and opportunities in my path.

One day, a lady from church told me about a job opening. “We have a temporary position at the Reception and Medical Center (RMC). You would be a perfect fit!”

RMC was a nearby prison that housed newly sentenced inmates and those needing specialized medical care. Why me? I wondered. I was only 17, and the position would have me working in administration doing inmate banking. Surely I was unqualified.

But the salary increase was appealing to a starving student barely scraping by. It’s just a stepping-stone, I convinced myself. You won’t be there forever. Besides, you’ve got to pay your bills and eat somehow.

In August 1987, only three months after graduating high school, I accepted the temp job at RMC, gave Hardee’s my two-week notice, and changed my classes to nights to work full-time during the day. Not long after, God blessed me with a full-time position with benefits in the business office. He used what I thought was only a stepping-stone to build the foundation of my 30-year career with FLDOC.

The Lord surrounded me early in my career with women of faith. These spiritual mothers and sisters prayed with and for me and encouraged me in everything from finishing my homework assignments to applying for promotions. They celebrated with me when I married and became a mom. If I had a problem or a tough decision, they pointed me back to Jesus. They reminded me that He was the author of my story and the One from whom I should seek answers. I can’t tell you how important these women were in my life.

I worked in the business office until I earned my bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. Then I pursued a master’s in educational leadership. With my degrees in hand, I felt better qualified to tackle whatever came my way.

I quickly learned that a willing heart was the only real qualification I needed to answer God’s call on my life. He would equip me for the journey. Desiring to go where God could use me, I surrendered to His lead.

“Lord,” I prayed, “I will go where You send me to encourage whoever You put in my path.”

I meant those words, but I didn’t anticipate He’d lead me straight into that career with the Florida DOC that my younger self had been determined to avoid. I wrestled with the notion, but the Lord continually reminded me that He equips the ones He calls for any task. He just wanted me to trust Him for provision and protection.

So I agreed to follow His will and pledged to keep Him at the forefront of my decisions as He directed my steps. What followed was amazing. Over the course of 30 years, I moved from that initial clerical position all the way up to warden and regional director.

The Lord opened my eyes to life within the razor wire. He allowed me to look past the differences that separated the staff from the incarcerated, so that I could see both groups through His eyes.

They were all His children, and each side had genuine needs and concerns that I had to consider when making decisions. Living and working in a prison environment can be depressing and downright dangerous; I needed the Lord to show me how I could improve things.

It took discipline and focus to avoid being overwhelmed by the challenges. To lead effectively, I needed to balance the scales of mercy and justice. I had to find ways to show compassion and hold people accountable for their actions.

Being a woman in leadership in a predominantly male field wasn’t easy. Some didn’t like or understand my leadership style or the culture I envisioned for the prisons I oversaw. Still, God gave me the strength and determination to stay the course and make decisions that would honor Him and help other people. My faith wasn’t always warmly welcomed, but it was not an area of compromise. I couldn’t run through every compound evangelizing, but I sure wasn’t quiet about Jesus being the Lord of my life.

My department colleagues provided me with fantastic mentoring and training that helped sharpen my skills. I was eager to learn and grow, so I soaked it all in from good and even not-so-good human leaders. My best leadership advice always came straight from the Bible, though.

I found examples of strong female leaders like Esther and Deborah in the Bible. These ladies lived in a culture that placed little value on women, but that didn’t stop God from using them in positions of great authority. I admired both women because they didn’t get caught up in selfish ambition or become power hungry. Instead, they focused on God and the welfare of the people they were leading.

I related to Esther’s story because of her humble beginnings. (Read the Book of Esther and see how God used this orphaned girl to impact the lives of many.) Her story gave me the courage to walk through any door God was opening, even when I didn’t know where He was leading or when it looked like I was heading somewhere I didn’t want to be.

Deborah was a warrior whom God called to lead the people of Israel in Judges 4–5. From her life, I learned that having the authority to make decisions was important, but I also had to be able to work through other people to get things done.

Deborah empowered and encouraged others, giving them the confidence they needed to fulfill the mission. I especially loved how she valued volunteers (Judges 5:9). She taught me to trust God in everything I did, to give Him the praise and glory for every victory, and to look at the big picture when making my decisions.

Whether I was working in classification, re-entry, as a warden, or as a regional director, I remembered how these women led their people. I viewed every job assignment as a mission—souls were at stake. God impressed upon my heart to consider the lives affected by the decisions I made.

Every person is a human being with a name and a story. Learning the key details of their story helped me understand why a person might behave or respond in a particular way. That’s when real problem-solving could happen.

I retired from FLDOC in 2018 as a warden at the Florida Women’s Reception Center (FWRC), but every decision, position, and relationship I encountered during my years with the department shaped and molded me for God’s continued call on this new chapter of my life.

I’m still on a mission today, but now I serve with amazing volunteer organizations. As a volunteer, I freely share the hope of Jesus with men and women in prisons all over Florida and even other states. I’ve been privileged to baptize hundreds of women who have chosen Jesus as the Lord of their lives. How exciting it is to help them start their prison journey anew with the light and hope of Jesus.

Wherever you are in your life journey, I encourage you to grow your faith roots deep in Christ. God will empower you every step of the way with inner strength through His Holy Spirit (Ephesians 3:16). Listen to the promises of Ephesians 3:17: “Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong” (NLT).

No matter who we are or where we live, we need faith roots to keep us strong. And we need God’s love to lead and teach us how to live so we can influence the world for His glory.

All He needs is our trust and a willing heart.

Chris Southerland volunteers at her church and with The Jesus Infusion and Timothy’s Gift, two prison ministries that provide incarcerated persons with hope, healing, and the love of Jesus. Chris serves the “least of these,” from youthful offenders to lifers. Chris enjoys spending time with her three children and two grandchildren.

Live Like Others Are Dying

In our culture, we are encouraged to “live like we are dying” and to “make every moment count.” But what if we lived like other people were dying? And what if we lived with our eyes open, ready to make the most of every opportunity, not for our gain but for the gain of others?

Last spring, I was blessed with an unexpected opportunity when God miraculously raised my grandmother from the dead. (Literally!) I am so thankful I took advantage of it, too, because now I know my grandmother is in heaven.

Grandma’s story begins with an ambulance ride to the hospital due to shortness of breath and low oxygen. Though she was admitted under the diagnosis of double pneumonia, doctors quickly recognized her need for a pacemaker.

Despite several exhausting days in the hospital, Grandma didn’t improve. Finally, the doctors decided to move forward with surgery; waiting for her lungs to clear was no longer an option.

Everything went well, and Grandma was recovering as expected—until the night she coded. She stopped breathing and died.

The medical team placed a breathing tube that pumped oxygen through her body, but she remained completely unresponsive. She was pronounced brain dead.

Family members crowded the room to say goodbye. Pastors and friends prayed over her. The medical team told us it was time to let go. Grandma was gone. The family decided to unplug the machines.

Mom stayed close to the phone that night, anxiously waiting to hear that Grandma was no longer with us.

But in the morning, the most amazing thing happened. Grandma, miraculously revived, called my mom!

It reminded me of the scene in John 11 where Jesus stood outside the tomb of Lazarus and called loudly, “Lazarus, come out!” And the man did, to the amazement of everyone, including his family. God proved that day that He was in control.

He proved it to us, too, through Grandma’s miraculous return to life. The next day, she was transferred home under hospice care, and my mom had the privilege of caring for her for the next month. During that time, our entire family gathered to celebrate Grandma’s 84th birthday.

As I prepared to go to Mom’s house that day, I felt the Holy Spirit tug at my heart, urging me to make sure that Grandma had accepted Jesus as her Savior so that she could have eternal life with Him. I knew then that God had given Grandma more time on earth for this very purpose.

I had no idea how many guests might be in the room when I arrived or how many believed in Jesus. And to be completely honest, I was worried about what they might think or say. But the Lord gave me the courage to set aside my fear and do what He was calling me to do.

I arrived at Mom’s house to find Grandma more alert and understanding than she had been the previous day. At my first opportunity, I asked her if she had ever invited Jesus into her life as her Lord and Savior.

“Not really,” she replied. I explained what that meant and then asked her if she wanted to. I was elated when she exclaimed, “Let’s do it!”

Right there in the middle of that room, surrounded by dozens of loved ones, Grandma prayed with me. She declared with her mouth that Jesus is Lord and believed in her heart that God had raised Him from the dead. And she was saved (Romans 10:9). I left that day with the secure knowledge that I would see Grandma again in heaven.

I’ll always be grateful that God gave me another opportunity to share Jesus with my grandmother. But you know, we aren’t always given extra time or another chance; that’s why God says we should make the most of every opportunity when it is before us (Ephesians 5:15–17).

Don’t waste the precious opportunities God has given you today to tell others about Him. As believers, let’s live like others are dying. Let’s set aside our fears and share the greatest gift of all—Jesus.

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.

Ledge-Walkers, Beware!

“You’re the oldest. You first!”

Our cousin carefully rounded the old banister post and stepped onto the narrow ledge. One misstep would land this ledge-walker on the worn wooden stairway far below.

We held our breath as she clutched the railing and step-slid her feet along the 10-foot ledge. The end of the ledge positioned our brave cousin over the most extreme drop of her journey.

Her return trip was speedy and confident. Reaching the banister post, she swung onto the landing. Whispered cheers for the ledge-conquering hero mingled with quiet cries of “Me next!”

We weren’t supposed to play on the stairs or climb over the banister railing. But technically, we weren’t climbing.

This scene played out frequently over the years, changing only with which cousins were visiting my grandparents’ farm at the time. Miraculously, no serious accidents occurred during our ledge-walking adventures.

Why are ledges enticing? Is it the excitement of danger and the forbidden? Our desire to test limits and vulnerabilities? The need to prove that we’re in control?

King David was once a ledge-walker. In 2 Samuel 11, we find David at home in Jerusalem while all his men were away at war. One evening, as the king walked the roof of his palace, he saw a beautiful woman bathing on her roof. Instead of stepping back, David leaned in closer for a better look. He figuratively stepped from the safety of the rooftop, over the protective railing, and onto the ledge when he sent for the woman, the wife of one of his brave warriors, and slept with her.

David would soon learn that ledge-walking always has consequences. He later repented, but the consequences of his time on the ledge impacted his family for generations.

Genesis 37–49 tells the story of Joseph, yet another young man who had an opportunity to step out on the ledge. That pivotal moment in Joseph’s life greatly impacted how God used him. It happened when the wife of the man he served began pursuing Joseph, persistently inviting the handsome young servant to step over the railing and onto the ledge of adultery with her.

When Joseph refused Potiphar’s wife, her false accusations landed him in prison. But that’s exactly where God prepared Joseph for his next assignment—where he would become second in command of the mighty nation of Egypt.

There have been times when I’ve  climbed over the railing of life and walked precariously along the ledge. But every time, there were consequences. Those days  of disobedience, willfulness, and rebellion altered my story for a season.

Lives that should have been touched weren’t, and spiritual growth that should have happened didn’t. And the deepening of my relationship with God, which only a fully surrendered heart could enjoy, was long delayed.

I praise God for His long-suffering, patience, goodness, mercy, and endless love for me, His child. When I repented of my sin and returned to Him, He forgave, cleansed, and restored me (Isaiah 44:21–22; 1 John 1:9). In fact, every time I’ve failed Him, God, the eternal promise keeper, has received me back.

Have you taken to the ledge? Have the things of the world caught your eye? Has the thrill of sin enticed you? First Corinthians 10:12 (NIV) says, “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”

Ledge-walking will eventually lead to your downfall (James 1:14–15). Maybe you’ve already discovered this truth. If so, it’s okay. God is in the restoration business. No depth of darkness can exceed His grace.

Turn your heart to Him. Ask for forgiveness and grab hold of His merciful hand. He will forgive, cleanse, and restore you—just like He did for King David and just like He did for me.

Sherri Mewha loves to speak and teach about God’s transforming love, grace, and mercy. After 30+ corporate years, then an art gallery owner, her focus today is writing about Jesus in devotions and Bible studies.  She’s a wife, mom, and Mimi to five gorgeous grands. Connect with Sherri Mewha at living-earswideopen.com.

Embracing Connection Before Correction

In our journey of healing, growth, transformation, and even sanctification (the process of being freed from sin), it’s easy to become fixated on the idea of correction. We often prioritize fixing what’s broken, addressing flaws, and striving for perfection, in ourselves and others. However, during our pursuit of improvement, we may overlook one essential element: connection.

Connection before correction is a principle deeply rooted in compassion, understanding, and empathy. It is restorative in nature. It’s a reminder that before we rush to correct, we must first seek to connect—to truly understand the heart and the humanity of those we wish to guide or help.

Think about a tree in need of pruning. Before the shears touch a single branch, the skilled gardener takes a moment to understand the tree’s growth patterns, its strengths, and its vulnerabilities. Similarly, in our interactions with others, we must take the time to cultivate a genuine connection before attempting any form of correction.

Jesus often prioritized building relationships with people before addressing their behavior. He dined with tax collectors and sinners, listened to their stories, and offered them love and acceptance before guiding them toward a path of righteousness.

In our daily lives, practicing connection before correction requires acceptance, patience, humility, and a willingness to set aside our preconceived judgments. It means approaching others with an open heart and a genuine desire to truly love another and understand their perspectives, experiences, and struggles.

Imagine a parent-child relationship. When a child misbehaves, the instinctual response might be to correct their behavior immediately. However, by pausing to connect with the child—to listen to their feelings, fears, and motivations—we not only deepen our bond with them but also lay a foundation for effective and compassionate guidance. This can be challenging. We must stay connected to the vine, abiding, and remaining in Jesus to produce this type of fruit. (See John 15.)

In addition, prioritizing connection before correction fosters an environment of trust and safety. When people feel seen, heard, and valued, they are more receptive to feedback and more willing to embark on journeys of accountability and self-improvement.

Jesus gives us a beautiful picture of connection before correction in the story of the adulterous woman found in John 8:3-11. Jesus, of course, knew the woman’s sin as she stood before him in public shame and humiliation. But more than seeing her sin, He saw her. And connecting with her through love was His priority.

The Pharisees only saw what was on the surface—her sinful behavior. They didn’t care to know how she found herself in that position or seek to understand. Instead, they called her out and sought her death, completely ignoring their own sin of judgment and pride. I wonder how many of them were adulterers.

We don’t know why the woman chose a sinful path, but there’s almost always a reason a person chooses darkness over light. And it is exactly what Jesus cares about; and the reason He came. John 3:17 teaches us that Jesus laid His life down, not to judge and correct the world, but to save it. Through His life, death, and resurrection, Jesus made a way for us to connect with God, and He with us. And out of that connection, we can find healing in the love of His correction.

Remember that behind every mistake, every flaw, and every misstep, there is a person with a story. As we navigate our relationships and interactions, let us strive to prioritize empathy over judgment, understanding and acceptance over condemnation, and connection over correction. May we seek to connect before we correct, like Jesus.

This is a profound expression of love, respect, and human dignity. In John 13:34-25, Jesus says, “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”

By embracing this commandment, we not only lift and empower others but also nurture the seeds of compassion and kindness within ourselves. The result? We become more like Christ, and others are drawn to Him through us.

SHERIDAN CORREA is a Trauma-Informed Biblical Counselor. She’s a follower of Jesus, wife, mother of two teenage boys, singer, and avid runner who has been radically changed by Jesus. She is VL’s director of content development.

Hope That Never Disappoints

How long, O Lord, how long? 

I sighed and curled into my pillow, pulling the comforter tight around me. It had been a full day, but now in the quiet darkness with the kids asleep in their beds, a familiar prayer bubbled up to the top.

I closed my eyes to sleep, but my thoughts stayed in overdrive. I’d prayed so hard for so long for God to bring something specific about. I’d even given Him a timeline—ample time to answer my prayer. Yet here I was, tucking myself into bed years later with no evidence that I was any closer to God giving me a yes.

I’d tried not to become obsessed with this heart’s desire. I’d thrown myself into ministry and parenting. I’d formed new plans and dreams. Some days were so full I didn’t have time to think about my longing. Other days, I thought about it but felt content enough to hold it loosely, trusting God whether He chose to fulfill it or not.

But sometimes, like in the quiet of this night, the longing returned with a mocking ache. I had tried my best to surrender it to God. So many times I’d heard or read that God’s “hope does not disappoint.” Well, my hope sure seemed to have dead-ended in disappointment.

The next morning, I looked that verse up and read it in my Bible: “This hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love” (Romans 5:5 NLT).

Okay. Maybe if I read the whole passage, I could understand why I still felt so disappointed. So I looked back. Romans 5:3–4 says, “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation” (NLT).

Oh. So this isn’t a birthday-wish kind of hope that God will give us whatever we want. This hope is produced by persevering in suffering. It’s a confident expectation of all we have in Jesus. It’s hope that God’s infinite love is enough no matter what our circumstances are.

I felt this aching disappointment because I’d misplaced my hope. Any hope rooted in an outcome, a timeline, or any other person will ultimately disappoint. Only hope that is anchored in Jesus will never disappoint. I needed to realign where I was placing my hope so that I could realign my disappointed heart.

So I began praying a new prayer. “Help me want You, Lord, more than I want anything else. Even that thing You know I’m longing so much for.” It’s a prayer God always answers, and God has steadily replaced my longing with a calm contentment for life as it is right now.

Have you misplaced your hope in an outcome, a timeline, or a person? If so, start asking God to help you want Him more than whatever that other thing is.

That’s a prayer God delights in answering yes.

Dear God, help me surrender this deep longing and instead be completely satisfied in the fullness of Your love, no matter my circumstances. I put my hope in You alone, who will never disappoint. In Jesus’s name, amen.

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.

Changed into a New Man

Never would I have dreamed that I’d end up running from the police, serving time in jail, or developing drug-induced heart failure. But things like that happen when you live far from the Lord.

I was 18, entering my first year at AB-Tech Community College in Asheville, North Carolina, when my life turned toward darkness. Like many, I dreamed of attending college, getting a degree, and making something of myself. Doing drugs or becoming the community drug dealer was never a part of that dream, but that’s where I was by the end of my first year at AB-Tech. I dropped out of college and descended into a dark life of crime and selling drugs. I was far from the Christian values my parents had taught me.

I have no regrets about my childhood or my parents. They were hard-working people. My mom was a dedicated schoolteacher who raised me to know better and to live right. My dad worked second shift and lots of overtime at an industrial manufacturing plant. But with my parents both working so hard, I had time on my hands to get into trouble and be influenced by other people, movies, and music.

Paying for college was a big expense, and I didn’t have a lot of extra to spend. It didn’t take me long to realize that selling drugs could get me things, including money for college. I started by telling myself I would only sell marijuana. But that didn’t last long.

So many people “needed” me, and I began to feel important. Satan used that pride to gain a solid foothold in my life. I began selling harder drugs like cocaine and ecstasy and racking up drug charges and felonies, including the intent to distribute. Each day, I moved further from my Christian roots, until at age 19, I was on the run from South Florida police.

Galatians 6:7–8 says, “Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant. Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit” (NLT).

For years, I mocked the justice of God. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway. I was a selfishly deceived man who was about to experience a decade of harvesting decay and death. From age 20 to 30, I spent 80 percent of my time either in prison or on probation.

With my first probation, I had a strict 6:00 p.m. curfew…but I disliked following rules. That arrangement didn’t work out well for me. I ended up with more charges and was locked up. Long jail time did nothing to change my heart, however, and when I was released, I went deeper into the drug life. Of course, that led to even more charges.

By then, I couldn’t even recognize the man I’d become.

Though my drug use would cause significant tension in my parents’ marriage, they never turned their backs on me. Mom was a rock, reminding me often that she was praying for me. She was concerned for my well-being; she could tell I didn’t care anymore.

“Jerrell,” she would say. “What’s happened to you? You used to take care of yourself and have good hygiene. You’ve let yourself go!” She was right. Mom would speak the truth to me. She also stood her ground against Satan.

I remember once during a dark time when she came to my door, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, “Satan, you cannot have my son, in Jesus’s name!” Then she turned around and left. No matter how dark it got, my mother never stopped fighting for me in the spiritual realm.

Dad, too, continually reminded me to trust in the Lord and to stop leaning on my own understanding (Proverbs 3:5). He constantly warned me that drugs and the life they offered had deceived me. “Jerrell, seek God’s guidance and His understanding. He will lead you,” Dad said often.

In 2010, while in jail for the umpteenth time, I decided to become a better person. I started reading books, studying, and bettering myself intellectually. In and of itself, that was not wrong. But I also should have been studying God’s Word and allowing Him to transform me into the man He’d created me to be.

I, however, wasn’t there yet. I needed a changed heart, not worldly knowledge.

Released but with the same dark heart, I returned to my old ways. Two years later, I was back in jail. This time was more difficult because I had fathered two daughters during those years of freedom. I loved my girls and knew I wasn’t doing them right, but it would take me years to become a father they could be proud of.

Released again, I went back to selling drugs to make fast money. I sold cocaine and ecstasy—and then I started using, something I had said I would never do. Now, with an addiction of my own, I had to sell drugs to support my habit. With each passing deal, I stepped further into darkness.

I wasn’t all bad—after all, I didn’t sell drugs on Sunday. That had to make me a good drug dealer. Crazy, right? I was sure that it would be all right with God if I quit selling drugs and only grew marijuana. Dad was right; I was deceived.

In 2015, my home was broken into, and the police discovered my stash of growing marijuana. I was charged with manufacturing and producing 50 pounds of marijuana. Again, I went back on probation. But this time, two good things happened.

I got a steady job and started reading the Bible lightly. One day, I read James 1:27. It says, “Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you” (NLT).

That scripture tugged at my heart as I realized I had allowed the world to corrupt me. I finally saw my actions of selling, using, and growing drugs for what they were—evil in the sight of God. God also showed me the humbling truth that I was corrupting others, and that was dangerous ground (Matthew 18:7).

With this revelation, I determined to develop a relationship with Christ. This desire ignited an intense spiritual battle. God and the devil were wrestling for my life, and there were times I felt I was losing my mind. My thoughts became so random and intense and dark.

I searched desperately for Christ anywhere and everywhere. I searched the Web and watched YouTube videos.

One day, an internal voice told me to run to St. John’s Church. I ran four miles in the rain, obeying the voice I heard. When I arrived at the church, I started crying out for God. The people there immediately called for the pastors to come. I was in obvious distress.

Pastors David Suber and David Perry came and prayed for me. And then, before them and God, I confessed with my mouth that Jesus was Lord and believed in my heart that God had raised Him from the dead for me (Romans 10:9–10).

I repented of my sins—the drug dealing, stealing, selling, and engaging in sex with random women. I repented of the lies I’d told and admitted I’d been trying to be my own god. I asked Jesus to come into my life and save me. That day, I became a free man. It felt like the fire of God burned every residue of sin out of me. God opened my eyes to Satan’s schemes in my life and my community. I experienced peace of mind and heart in a fresh way that could only be explained by the presence of God within me.

In 2018, I became a true believer in and follower of Jesus Christ. No longer was I a drug dealer, user, and grower, trying to convince myself I was a Christian. I began attending church faithfully. Hungry to learn about God, I started reading the Bible daily. I fell in love with God’s Word and allowed it to change how I think. No longer was I being conformed to the world’s ways, but I was being transformed into a new person by God and His Word (Romans 12:2). And people could see the transformation in my life.

God sent me back into the community where I’d sold drugs to help clean it up. I no longer grow marijuana; instead, I’ve developed a community food garden that provides food for the people there.

Today, I spend my days serving in an outreach program called “Brother’s Keepers” that helps men find freedom from addiction and the cycles of prison life. We then help by praying for and fostering relationships with people in the community as we share God’s love and message with them. Giving back to a place I once corrupted brings me great joy.

God has been so good to me. He’s healed my mind and freed me from addiction. He’s healed me physically too. Drug use had caused significant damage to my heart and led to heart failure. At one point, my heart function was as low as 9 percent. But since I came to Christ, my heart function has improved to 45 percent. God has given me a new heart spiritually, one that loves, listens, learns, and cares—but on top of that, He’s renewed my physical heart, too.

And it all started when I humbled myself before the Lord.

I encourage you to do the same. Second Chronicles 7:14, one of my favorite verses, says, “Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land” (NLT).

When I humbled myself, began to pray, sought God’s face, and turned from my wicked ways, God forgave me and restored my mind and life. His love changed me into a new man.

And His love can change you too.

JERRELL BULLARD lives out his calling for Christ by being a part of a community outreach program called Brother’s Keepers, an organization that fosters relationships with those who were formerly incarcerated, drug addicted and more. Jerrell is a huge influence in the rebuilding of his community for Christ and witnessing to the lost.

Worth Living

“Get back here, young lady!” Startled, my mother tried not to make a scene as I pulled away from her and ran as fast as my little legs would carry me to the front of the church. The preacher had made the altar call, and I wanted to ask Jesus into my heart.

I was only five, but I knew something extraordinary had happened that Sunday morning. God had picked me up in His arms and given me a big hug. At that moment, I was the happiest little girl on earth, and not even the spanking I’d get for disobeying Mom in church could change that.

I spent much time hearing about God in church as a child, but as I grew up, I often wondered where He was in my life. Domestic violence and alcoholism were rampant in my home, and divorce tore our family apart. In that darkness, I was sure God had forgotten about me.

I felt like my father forgot me too, as soon as he left our home. I was Daddy’s girl; his departure left a huge hole in my heart. I could only imagine it was my fault that he had left.

Life with Mom was scary and confusing. I learned later that she was mentally ill, but to little me, her actions didn’t make sense, and life was hard. Right after Dad left, she remarried a raging alcoholic who didn’t like kids. I lived in constant fear of him.

Mom’s struggle with mental illness often left me unsupervised, and I became vulnerable to predators. Evil intruded on my innocence through multiple molestations before third grade. Afraid, I told no one.

Life improved briefly when I moved to Florida to live with Dad, but his new girlfriend wasn’t impressed with the broken child thrust into her life. Her jealousy over Dad’s attention led to severe beatings that often left me unable to walk or sit down. And things only got worse when they got married.

The beatings didn’t hurt as much as the verbal abuse, though. My stepmother’s hate-filled words were like daggers to my heart, especially when I was diagnosed with learning disabilities. “You’re going to be crazy, just like your mom!” Her taunting words reinforced my suspicions that maybe I was marked or flawed somehow.

Life at school wasn’t any easier. I struggled to fit in and make friends and was often bullied. Back then, there weren’t many resources to help kids deal with their emotions, so I was on my own in my struggles and losing the battle.

By the ninth grade, I was fed up with life and tried to commit suicide. When I didn’t die, I felt even more like a loser. You can’t even do that right, I told myself.

Finally, after years of being pushed around, I started fighting back. After ending up on top of a few fights, I realized I had a hidden superpower. I could fight, and I was done letting people get the upper hand. I wouldn’t be the one to start trouble, but I was prepared to finish it. From then on, I never backed down from a fight.

Holding my own felt good, and I liked making people regret messing with me. But one day, I encountered a situation where I couldn’t fight back. A teacher withheld a passing grade I needed to graduate until I let him molest me. I was overcome with the all-too-common feelings of being used, worthless, and dirty.

I graduated high school and grabbed a one-way bus ticket back to my mom. Things’ll be better there, I convinced myself.

Only five days after my arrival, it became clear that Mom’s mental illness and my stepdad’s abuse had only gotten worse. During a psychotic meltdown, Mom kicked me out of the house with only the clothes on my back. I had just started a new job, and thankfully, my new boss came to my rescue and saved me from becoming homeless. That was my dysfunctional entrance into adulthood.

Life was one disaster after another. I felt like a magnet that attracted toxic people, danger, and injustices. In the coming years, I was homeless more than once, was raped multiple times, and was even framed for stealing by a person who pretended to be my friend. I lost my job over that one. I also landed myself in a domestic violence situation much like I’d witnessed growing up.

Finding out I was pregnant saved my life. I didn’t want my child to be raised as I’d been, so I mustered up the courage to leave that relationship and never look back. I would take on the challenges of being a single mom before I allowed my child to be subjected to violence at home.

Needing financial stability, I joined the Florida Department of Corrections. I knew nothing about corrections when I signed up, but at 23, I felt up for the challenge. I’d developed some thick skin over the years.

My first assignment was at a men’s facility with mixed custody levels. I balanced my street smarts with a solid work ethic and jumped the hurdles of being a new officer. I advanced through the ranks and, in 2004, became one of a handful of female captains in my region.

But the trauma, abuse, and rejection I’d endured before joining the department made me a ticking time bomb on the job. I was hard-hearted and unmoving, and I refused to back down from anything or anyone—staff or prisoner.

“Here comes Lucifer,” was the warning that echoed through the compound during my shifts. I was the heavy-handed captain who ran a tight ship and demanded perfection. Nothing and no one moved me. I was completely unfazed and desensitized. I felt nothing except anger.

For years, I struggled to steady myself with one foot in the prison world and one in society as a mother. Seeking safety, I married a man 20 years older than me. Instead of security, I acquired the chaos of his alcohol problem and mental health issues. I wasn’t equipped to cope, and it hit hard when I realized I was subjecting my daughter to the very cycle I’d sworn to protect her from. That marriage didn’t survive.

I continued to work hard and provide for my daughter and me, but I was unraveling daily. By the time I met my second husband, I was a hot mess.

This man of faith was from a stable family with deep roots in the community. He was everything I had once put on my wish list to God. In fact, at first, he seemed too good to be true. But he was the real deal, and I’m so glad he saw something in me worth fighting for. Our marriage of over 26 years is a testament to God’s grace and my husband’s patience.

For many years, I’d felt no joy, no pain, nothing. I was completely disconnected and severely depressed. I couldn’t engage in meaningful conversations with anyone unless it involved work. Every day, I pushed through the void, putting on what I thought was a good face in the community. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as good an actress as I thought. People thought I was a snob, but I was just a shell of a person without any capacity to feel.

The traumas I had endured in my personal life and the horrors I had witnessed behind bars, plus the havoc I’d caused in other people’s lives, were now causing my body to physically, emotionally, and mentally break down.

My health declined because of obesity, anxiety, insomnia, and a heart condition for which treatments were failing. My doctor was distressed. “Melissa, if you don’t make some drastic changes, you’ll be dead in five years.” I shrugged off his advice as if I were invincible.

One day, as I walked across the compound at work, I heard a voice I knew could only be God. “If you don’t get out now, you’ll lose everything, including your life.” I knew that ignoring that voice would be my demise. My 27-year career with the FLDOC was over—I retired in April 2017.

You’d think that would be good, but I had no idea how to live apart from the corrections world. I was not imprisoned, but I  had become institutionalized, unable to function outside of prison fences.

Then, in the middle of my identity crisis, God provided a new job for me—selling insurance. I had to talk to people in a world I knew nothing about—the outside world. On the verge of a nervous breakdown, I sat in my car in a grocery store parking lot and sobbed. I felt alone, overwhelmed, and afraid.

“All right, Lord,” I cried. “Here I am. I did what You said. I quit my job. Now what?”

God responded by opening my eyes to the real problem—me. My bitter heart was dark with pride, self-righteousness, unforgiveness, and judgment against others.

I had spent decades keeping society safe from those I judged as the worst of humanity. All the while, I’d been ignorant of the truth that the sacrifice Jesus made was for every soul—those behind bars, those who had hurt me, and yes, His sacrifice was even for me.

I recalled the many things I’d done in my youth against God’s will, any of which could have easily landed me in prison had I been caught. I was no different than those I had looked down upon. This revelation brought me to my knees in sorrowful repentance (Romans 2:4).

Stirring inside of me was the desire to be well. Like the disabled man by the pool of Bethesda, I was ready to roll up my mat and walk toward a new life with Jesus (John 5:6–9). To do that, I’d have to rise up out of the pew. I’d been sitting in church for a long time, but that hadn’t made me a Christian.

I knew in my head that Jesus had died for my sins and I believed it, but I had no relationship with Him. I’d lived half a century missing how desperately I needed His mercy, grace, and forgiveness.

At 52, I surrendered myself to Christ and began walking with Him. With each step, I have discovered hope and joy, and my soul has found wholeness—my mind, will, and emotions are no longer in chains.

Early in my healing, I ran into a former colleague who knew the old me. She was amazed at the change. We cried as I shared with her my journey with the Lord. She was excited to hear my desire to serve and share the gospel. “I’ll go wherever God leads me,” I told her.

My obedience was tested when my friend introduced me to a passionate, on-fire-for-Jesus woman named Nicole Dyson. (You can read Nicole’s story in Issue 2023-3 of VL.) Nicole invited me to a Bible study, and there I came face to face with a woman who had served time during my years with Florida DOC. She stiffened when she saw me, expecting me to reject or belittle her. Resisting the urge to run away, I embraced her. We hugged and cried, and I asked for her forgiveness.

God used that pivotal moment to show me that my brokenness had caused harm to another one of God’s children.

Nicole invited me to volunteer with her organization, The Jesus Infusion, a prison ministry inside the Florida Women’s Reception Center. I politely smiled at her invitation and told her I would pray about it. But my conversation with God was much more animated. Are you serious, God?! There’s no way You’re asking me to do this!

Going back behind bars wasn’t on my agenda, but I soon discovered it was on God’s. So, in 2021, three years after I’d retired from corrections, I headed back into prison as an official volunteer to minister to the incarcerated. My past and my healing and transformation journey helped me relate to those women in so many ways.

Recently, God opened the door for me to return to a women’s facility where I’d worked for eight years. The response to my presence has been mixed. Many people remember “Lucifer,” that cold-hearted, unyielding person I was, and they aren’t sure what to make of this new creation in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:17).

I’ve received bewildered looks and unkind comments, and there’ve been plenty of uncomfortable situations. But it’s okay. Watching God move makes it worth it. I’ve witnessed the power of Jesus Christ radically transform lives and have had the privilege of baptizing hundreds of women. The joy I experience in sharing the hope of Jesus is my strength (Nehemiah 8:10).

God has shown me that every season of my life—good, bad, and ugly—has been preparation for this moment on this mission field (Esther 4:14). And every day, I’m prepared to give an answer to the hope that lives inside me (1 Peter 3:15) and tell how God revived me from the dead.

I was once dead in my sin, and that resulted in me being dead emotionally, spiritually, and relationally. Then Jesus made me alive (Ephesians 2:4–10) to Himself, and He returned to me the life He created me to have—a life the enemy, others, and even I had tried to destroy (Genesis 50:20). It’s a life of purpose and connection. It’s a life fully worth living.

MELISSA LOTT is a warrior for Christ who combats the world’s ugliness with the gospel. Jesus has restored her heart, giving her the ability to feel, forgive, and see goodness in people. She enjoys joyful sunshine, being courageous in darkness, and being a whole bunch of trouble for Satan.

Get Revenge!

I recently shared with some young people from a local high school how God can take the pain of our lives and use it for good. I used the example of Joseph from the Bible, found in Genesis chapters 37 through 50.

I also shared how God often takes us through a process of being broken and stripped down so we can find wholeness and experience our destiny. It’s a process I’ve had to endure myself.

Afterward, I went to lunch and sat beside a kid who told me he liked Joseph’s story.

“It’s interesting to think that God can take the horrible things of the past and use them for good,” he said. “But really, it’s hard to believe. I’ve lost everything. My mom is gone, my aunt just died, and I recently quit my gang. And then, I was walking home with a friend when a rival gang member who didn’t know I’d quit took a shot at me. My friend jumped in front of me and took the bullet, and now he’s dead. How’s God going to bring something good out of that?”

This young man also wrestled with the notion that God had brought all this tragedy into his life. I explained that God hadn’t taken his mom, aunt, or friend—Satan had. I told him about Satan, the real enemy, the one who wanted to rob and steal and destroy his life. That’s who’d caused those things to happen, I told him.

Then I said something that shocked him. “You know what? God wants you to get revenge for what happened.” He thought I was talking about getting a gun and going after the one who had caused him harm. Of course, I wasn’t. I was talking about getting revenge on Satan.

Ephesians 6:12 (NLT) tells us, “We are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and the authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly realms.”

“It’s time to make Satan pay for what he’s done,” I said.

The young man was confused, so I continued to explain. “Your willingness to release your pain to God gets revenge against Satan. Forgiving your assailant gets revenge, too. So does using your pain to help others. Every life you touch for God, every person you help, hurts Satan because it’s one less person he can touch!”

Have you ever considered getting revenge on Satan for the pain you’ve experienced? It’s true—you can make Satan pay for the things he brings into your life when you accomplish God’s will by bringing others to Him.

Listen to what Joseph told his brothers: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people” (Genesis 50:20 NLT).

Joseph gave Satan a significant blow by refusing to play the blame game or take on a victim mentality. He also hurt Satan by refusing to get even with his brothers—which, as the second in command in Egypt, he had the power to do.

I know it’s hard not to want to get revenge on a person in natural ways. But taking matters into your hands leads only to more pain for you and your loved ones, and it delays God being able to work all those painful things together for your good (Romans 8:28).

God wants to give your pain purpose. And that is the best revenge ever.

The Relentless Love of God

My friend Linda and I met years ago at a Cracker Barrel for fellowship and to discuss the correspondence outreach which she led at the time. After enjoying our meal, we went outside to pray for Victorious Living’s incarcerated family members.

We sat there in the rocking chairs and prayed with our eyes open so we wouldn’t attract attention. As we prayed, I noticed a man going in and out of the restaurant. He kept walking past us. I realized I’d seen him twice in the restaurant too.

Since God often uses repetitive scenes and phrases to catch my attention, I inwardly asked Him if there was something He wanted me to do. I felt God leading me to speak with the man. The next time he passed by, I introduced myself and engaged him in conversation. I was relieved when he responded in a welcoming manner. His name was Ryan.

I told him that I’d felt God wanting me to remind him that He loved him. I knew it was a God-ordained meeting when Ryan shook his head and said with a bit of laughter in his voice, “I don’t know why, but God just won’t leave me alone.”

I knew why—because God so loves Ryan (John 3:16). God’s extravagant love will go to any length to bring a lost son or daughter home. This time, God’s love had chased Ryan down using two ladies in rocking chairs (Romans 2:4).

Over the next few minutes, Ryan shared intimate life details, and then he said something I’ve heard many times from many people. “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere.”

He went on to tell us how he had come to Cracker Barrel to meet up with his family, hoping that being in their presence would make him feel better and more complete. He’d been estranged from them for a while. Yet, even after a great meal and decent conversation, he still felt empty. And that emptiness had him pacing around the restaurant property.

For years, Ryan had been tormented by a sense of emptiness. He admitted to having tried to fill that void with many things, including women and weed. But everything and everyone had failed him. His love for weed had even cost him his job, as he had recently failed a drug test.

“I’ve been searching and wandering all through life. I’m so tired of being let down,” Ryan confessed. Then he added, “And I’m tired of running from God.”

I told him he didn’t have to run anymore, that he could take off those running shoes and rest in the arms of his heavenly Father. Ryan looked relieved. And then he bowed his head and prayed to the One he had been running from his whole life. When he said amen, he was beaming, as were we.

After he left, Linda and I marveled at the relentless love of God. It will chase you down anywhere! The question is, when we find ourselves face-to-face with God’s love, will we surrender to it?

Maybe, like Ryan, you don’t feel like you belong anywhere. Maybe you’ve been chasing after worldly offerings, hoping they will fill that void. The problem is, the things of this world never satisfy. Only God can bring contentment.

Right now, God is inviting you to stop running and surrender your life to His goodness. He is what you’re missing. He is where you belong! And He alone can transform your life from one of emptiness to one of fulfillment.

Pray with me. God, I’m tired of running. I surrender to Your love. Let it overtake me. I choose You over my fear, questions, unbelief, guilt, and shame; over relationships and sex, drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, and _______. Take my life, Lord. Bring me home to 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.