Tag: christianity

Hurts, Hang-Ups, and Habits: An Introduction to Celebrate Recovery

Celebrate Recovery (often called “CR”) is more than a weekly meeting—it’s a Christ-centered pathway for healing, discipleship, and restored relationships. Whether the struggle is addiction, anger, trauma, codependency, or the long aftermath of incarceration, CR offers a safe place to tell the truth and take the next right step—together.

While I was incarcerated one of the programs offered by the chaplain was an introductory course on Celebrate Recovery.  There was an AA program at the prison, and I knew a lot of guys who attended because they always had a coffee urn, but CR was different.  I had recently read Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life book and was looking for concrete information on healing. The old expression says “Time heals all wounds,” but mine weren’t.  I was in pain; my hurt wasn’t going away.  I was looking for a faith-based program that could provide me with an actionable process to systematically address my brokenness and guide me toward healing.

In this post, we’ll explain what Celebrate Recovery is, what a typical meeting looks like, and why the same CR principles that help people in church communities can also bring real hope behind bars through Celebrate Recovery Inside (CRI), the prison and jail extension of the ministry.

What is Celebrate Recovery?

Celebrate Recovery is a Christ-centered, 12-step recovery program designed to help people find freedom and healing from life’s “hurts, habits, and hang-ups.” It pairs a proven recovery framework (the 12 Steps) with Scripture and eight principles inspired by the Beatitudes (Matthew 5), emphasizing honesty, surrender, confession, growth, accountability, forgiveness, and service.

Celebrate Recovery began in 1991 at Saddleback Church (Lake Forest, California) with a vision for a recovery ministry where people could openly talk about Jesus Christ as their Higher Power; where the church could become a safe place for ongoing healing, not just a place to “have it all together.” What started as a single meeting has since grown into thousands of groups in churches and ministries across the U.S. and beyond.

Who is Celebrate Recovery for?

One of the most common misunderstandings about CR is that it’s only for alcohol or drugs. It’s for anyone who recognizes a pattern that’s hurting their relationship with God, others, and themselves. People often come to CR for things like:

  • Substance use and addiction (alcohol, drugs)
  • Compulsive behaviors (pornography, gambling, overspending, food issues)
  • Anger, control, perfectionism, people-pleasing
  • Codependency and unhealthy relationships
  • Grief, trauma, abuse, family dysfunction
  • Shame, anxiety, depression, and the isolating behaviors that often come with them

Celebrate Recovery in a prison or jail context: Celebrate Recovery Inside (CRI)

Celebrate Recovery Inside (often shortened to CRI) is the prison and jail extension of Celebrate Recovery.  It brings the same Christ-centered recovery pathway into correctional facilities. Many churches describe CRI as a natural “bridge” between the institution and the community, because when someone is released, they can often find a Celebrate Recovery meeting close to home and continue the journey with support rather than isolation.

Organizations that work in corrections note that CRI can address a wide range of life-controlling issues: alcohol and drug addiction, gambling, overeating, and more by dealing thoughtfully with the underlying hurts, hang-ups, and habits that often sit beneath the surface. Prison Fellowship, for example, partners with Celebrate Recovery to bring CR into incarcerated settings as part of larger life-transformation efforts, helping men and women grow spiritually and pursue freedom and new patterns of living.

Depending on the facility, CRI is often run as a structured series. The U.S. Federal Bureau of Prisons’ volunteer listings describe Celebrate Recovery Inside as a 25-week Christ-centered recovery program with three core components—worship, step study, and open share groups—recommended weekly for about 90 minutes per session, using participant guides that walk-through lessons, questions, group guidelines, and the CR principles and steps.

What’s different “on the inside” (and why structure matters)

Recovery groups inside a facility operate within clear institutional boundaries and that structure can support growth. Many CRI ministries emphasize the same small-group guidelines used in community CR (sharing your own experience, no crosstalk, no fixing, confidentiality), while also honoring facility safety requirements and the reality that confidentiality has limits if someone threatens harm to self or others.

Why CRI matters: hope, accountability, and a reentry bridge

One theme that shows up repeatedly in CRI descriptions is identity: instead of being defined by an inmate number, an offense, or an addiction, participants are invited to be defined by what Christ can do in a life surrendered to Him. Prison Fellowship highlights how Celebrate Recovery Inside can help participants begin the process of making amends and strengthening relationships, including family relationships—while learning to live differently. Local church partners also emphasize that CRI can create a practical transition back into the community because CR groups exist in so many towns and cities.

For churches and ministries, CRI also creates a meaningful way to serve.  Trained volunteers partner with chaplains and facility leadership to show up consistently, model healthy boundaries, and speak hope. And because CR uses a shared language (principles, steps, sponsor/accountability, daily inventory), it can continue after release—when temptation, stress, and old environments often hit hardest.

What happens at a typical Celebrate Recovery night?

While every church is a little different, most CR ministries follow a consistent rhythm designed to be welcoming to newcomers and safe for honest sharing. Many locations offer a “general meeting night” that includes worship, teaching or testimony, and then small groups. Some also include a meal or fellowship time, childcare (when available), and a clear welcome moment that helps new attendees feel oriented without pressure.

1) Large Group

The large group hour commonly includes prayer, worship music, reading the CR principles/steps, and either a lesson or a personal testimony. Some groups also include a chip ceremony to celebrate milestones.

2) Open Share Small Groups

After large group, participants typically break into gender-specific open share groups (often also organized by issue area). This is where people share what’s really going on—without being interrupted, “fixed,” or judged. Confidentiality is a core expectation, and groups use guidelines to keep sharing safe and respectful.

3) Step Studies (deeper work during the week)

Many people eventually join a Step Study—a smaller, closed group (usually meeting on another night) that works through CR materials more deeply. Step Studies are where participants slow down, process their story, practice new tools, and build consistent accountability.

The heart of CR: 8 Principles and 12 Steps

CR is built on two complementary tracks: the 12 Steps (adapted to be explicitly Christ-centered) and eight recovery principles rooted in Jesus’ teaching in the Beatitudes. Together, they offer a structured path that moves from denial to honesty, from isolation to community, and from broken patterns to new life.

Celebrate Recovery describes this journey not only as recovery, but as a road that leads to salvation and discipleship—a practical, day-by-day way to learn surrender, obedience, honesty, and dependence on Jesus. In other words: it’s spiritual formation with traction, especially for people who have tried “willpower” and found it isn’t enough.

In many CR materials, each principle is paired with a Beatitude, and each step is paired with Scripture—helping participants see that recovery isn’t a side project to faith; it is part of learning to live the new life Christ offers.

  1. Realize I’m not God; I admit I’m powerless and my life has become unmanageable.
  2. Believe God exists, I matter to Him, and He has power to help me recover.
  3. Choose to commit my life and will to Christ’s care and control.
  4. Examine myself honestly and face the truth about my past and my patterns.
  5. Confess my hurts, hang-ups, and habits to God and to someone I trust.
  6. Submit to the changes God wants to make and ask Him to remove my defects of character.
  7. Make amends by forgiving others and taking responsibility for my harm when it won’t cause further injury.
  8. Give back by continuing to grow daily and sharing hope with others.

Celebrate Recovery vs. Alcoholics Anonymous (AA): what’s the difference?

Celebrate Recovery and Alcoholics Anonymous have a lot in common: both are peer-led, group-based recovery communities that use a 12-step framework and emphasize honesty, accountability, and helping others. The differences matter, though—especially for someone that is deciding where to start (or what to recommend to a friend or family member).

CategoryAlcoholics Anonymous (AA)Celebrate Recovery (CR)
Primary focusAlcohol addiction and sobriety support specifically.“Hurts, habits, and hang-ups” (a wider range of struggles, including addictions, compulsions, relational patterns, and trauma-related issues).
Spiritual languageRefers to “God as we understood Him” and a “Power greater than ourselves,” leaving room for different faith backgrounds.Explicitly Christ-centered and Bible-based; the steps are written to name Jesus Christ and Scripture as the foundation.
Core frameworkThe 12 Steps and 12 Traditions, as practiced in AA meetings worldwide.The 12 Steps (Christ-centered wording) plus 8 Recovery Principles rooted in Jesus’ teaching in the Beatitudes.
MaterialsAA literature (including the “Big Book”) is commonly used alongside meetings.CR curriculum and participant guides/step-study materials are commonly used, especially in Step Studies and CR Inside contexts.
Meeting typesVaries by group (open, closed, speaker, discussion, etc.), generally centered on sobriety and step work.Often includes worship + lesson/testimony + gender-specific open share groups; many ministries also offer closed Step Studies for deeper work.

Both AA and Celebrate Recovery have helped countless people take steps toward freedom. If you’re looking for a Christ-explicit environment with worship and a broad focus beyond alcohol, Celebrate Recovery may be a strong fit. If you’re looking for a sobriety-specific fellowship with flexible spiritual language and frequent meeting availability in many communities, AA may be a strong fit. In many cases, people benefit from participating in both while also receiving pastoral care, counseling, or clinical treatment as needed.

What to expect if you’re new

Walking into any recovery space for the first time can feel intimidating. Here are a few things that are typically true at most Celebrate Recovery meetings:

  • You can come as you are. You don’t need to have the “right words,” and you don’t have to share on your first night.
  • It’s okay to pass. In open share groups, people are usually invited—but never forced—to speak.
  • Confidentiality matters. The goal is to create a safe place where honesty is possible.
  • No one is there to “fix” you. Sharing is about telling your own story and listening with respect, not giving advice.
  • It’s peer support, not clinical counseling. Many people also benefit from pastors, licensed counselors, medical care, or treatment programs alongside CR.

An invitation: you don’t have to do this alone

At its core, Celebrate Recovery is a place where people stop pretending, start telling the truth, and learn how to walk—one day at a time in the healing power of Jesus Christ. If you’re carrying hurts you can’t outthink, a habit you can’t break, or a hang-up you can’t hide anymore, CR offers something many of us desperately need: community, clarity, and the next right step.

How you can engage with Celebrate Recovery

There are a few simple ways you can take the next step whether you’re seeking help, walking alongside someone who is, or sensing a call to serve people impacted by incarceration.

  • Visit a meeting. Consider attending a local Celebrate Recovery gathering to observe the format and see if it’s a fit for you. You can simply listen and learn.
  • Commit to the process. If you’re ready for deeper change, ask about a Step Study—consistent, guided work in a smaller group.
  • Support a returning citizen. Reentry is a vulnerable season. Encouragement, rides, accountability, and a welcoming church community can make a huge difference.
  • Serve “on the inside.” If you have a heart for jail/prison ministry, explore opportunities to volunteer in approved programs like Celebrate Recovery Inside, in partnership with chaplains and facility staff.
  • Pray and partner. Pray for healing, protection, and perseverance for participants and leaders—and consider how your church or small group could come alongside this work.

If you’re curious, consider visiting a local meeting as a quiet first step. You can simply listen, take in the format, and decide what you want to do next. If you’ve been impacted by incarceration—personally or through someone you love—remember that healing often includes both internal work (new patterns, new identity, new habits) and community support (people who will walk with you when life gets loud). Healing rarely happens in isolation—and you’re allowed to start small.

No matter your story, Jesus is not intimidated by it. Celebrate Recovery simply gives us a place to bring what’s true into the light—so grace can do what it does best: restore what’s been broken and teach us how to live free.

For more information about Celebrate Recovery or where you can find a meeting visit their website at https://celebraterecovery.com/.

If you are interested in learning more about the prison based Celebrate Recovery Inside program, I would recommend checking out the CRI Newsletter Facebook Page at https://www.facebook.com/CRInsideNews.

“If—” Behind Bars: How Christian Faith Rewrites Strength, Failure, and Hope in Prison

Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If—” has long been admired as a guide to character. It celebrates calm under pressure, self-control amid chaos, and the ability to endure loss without bitterness. For many people, the poem represents maturity—becoming someone who can stand tall no matter what life throws their way. Written for a free person navigating life’s trials, its ideals feel aspirational and dignified. But what happens when those ideals are placed behind concrete walls and metal bars? What does “If—” look like in prison, and how does the Christian faith reinterpret both suffering and strength in that context? Examining prison through a Christian perspective alongside Kipling’s poem reveals both striking parallels and meaningful tensions—especially around dignity, endurance, failure, and hope.

Dignity in the Midst of Suffering

Prison is a place where endurance is not optional, dignity is often challenged, and time stretches in ways few people outside can understand. Many incarcerated men and women recognize themselves in Kipling’s descriptions of being blamed, misunderstood, or forced to keep going when everything inside feels exhausted. Yet prison also exposes something Kipling’s poem does not fully address: the limits of self-made strength. Christian faith meets people precisely at that breaking point—not with condemnation, but with truth, grace, and hope.  The Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthian church that was facing intense persecution and physical suffering:

“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16)

This passage often prompts believers to focus on eternal rather than temporary things. When read alongside the gospel, “If—” becomes a doorway into a deeper conversation about suffering, guilt, forgiveness, identity, and redemption.

Endurance in a Place That Breaks the Will

Kipling begins by calling the reader to “keep your head when all about you are losing theirs.” To endure being blamed, doubted, lied about, or misunderstood. That kind of composure is admired—and necessary—in prison. Conflict, noise, tension, and uncertainty are constant companions. The pressure to react, retaliate, or harden oneself is always present. Prison life amplifies these pressures. Incarceration strips away autonomy, reputation, and often identity itself. One’s past actions are reduced to a number and a file.

The Bible understands endurance, but it frames it differently. Scripture does not praise endurance for its own sake. It honors perseverance that is shaped by faith:

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life.” (James 1:12)

Unlike the poem, which pictures a person standing alone through sheer discipline, Christianity teaches that endurance is sustained by God’s presence.

For many in prison, endurance does not look heroic. It looks like getting through the day without giving in to anger, despair, or hopelessness. Faith says that even this quiet endurance matters—and that God sees it.  Endurance is not about appearing strong. It is about surviving spiritually in a place designed to break the human will.

Christian theology also reframes endurance not merely as stoic self-mastery but as participation in suffering. Scripture repeatedly portrays endurance as something God meets with presence, not just something humans conquer alone. Where Kipling celebrates the individual who quietly withstands loss, Christianity emphasizes God who enters suffering with the prisoner—seen most clearly in Christ’s unjust arrest, trial, and execution.

Failure, Guilt, and Starting Again

One of the most celebrated lines in “If—” speaks of losing everything and starting again “at your beginnings.” In the poem, Kipling’s speaker assumes moral innocence: loss comes through chance, risk, or external failure. Prison disrupts this assumption. Incarceration is usually the consequence of wrongdoing. Prison confronts people with real guilt. Mistakes have names, faces, and consequences.

This is also where Christian faith diverges sharply from Kipling’s vision. Christianity does not ignore this reality:

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)

But Christianity also refuses to believe that failure defines a person forever: Christianity does not deny failure; it names it clearly as sin. But it also insists that no failure is final. Repentance, forgiveness, and transformation are central Christian claims. For the incarcerated person, starting again is not just rebuilding after loss, it is rebuilding after wrong.

In this sense, prison becomes a place where the Christian message of grace is not theoretical. Redemption must confront real harm, real victims, and real consequences. Hope becomes deeper because it is harder earned.

Identity: Self-Made or God-Given?

“If—” assumes that character is forged purely through discipline and personal resolve. The poem’s ideal person stands tall through sheer moral strength, eventually “owning the Earth.”

Prison challenges that worldview. Many incarcerated people discover the limits of self-mastery precisely because isolation exposes inner fractures—addiction, anger, fear, shame. Christianity answers this not by demanding greater self-control alone, but by offering a new identity rooted in being a child of God, not merely a moral achiever.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”  (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Where Kipling’s vision culminates in becoming “a Man,” Christianity points toward becoming new—a new creation grounded in grace rather than accomplishment. A profound spiritual regeneration, not just behavior modification. This distinction matters profoundly in prison, where past identity constantly threatens to eclipse present humanity.

Time, Stillness, and Spiritual Formation

Kipling speaks of filling every minute with purposeful effort. Prison, by contrast, imposes long stretches of stillness. Time becomes heavy, repetitive, and often oppressive.

From a Christian perspective, this stillness can become formative rather than wasted. Solitude, reflection, confession, and prayer—practices often avoided in free society—become unavoidable. While prison is not inherently redemptive, Christian faith insists God can work within constrained time as powerfully as in active achievement.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalms 46-10)

This verse comes from a psalm that highlights God as a “refuge and strength” amidst scenes of war and natural disasters, emphasizing that God is in control. Thus, prison becomes a paradoxical space: externally unproductive, internally transformative.

Hope Beyond Freedom

Kipling’s reward is mastery of the world. Christianity’s promise runs deeper: hope that survives even if earthly freedom never comes. For Christians in prison, dignity is not restored by release alone but by knowing they are seen, known, and loved beyond the prison system.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you.” (1 Peter 1:3-4)

Christian hope is the confident, joyful expectation of future good based on God’s character and the resurrection of Jesus Christ, rather than mere optimism. It is anchored in the “empty tomb,” promising resurrection, eternal life, and the renewal of creation. This hope serves as an anchor for the soul, providing endurance through suffering and security in God’s faithfulness. In this way, the “victory” envisioned by Christian faith is not escape, but faithfulness.

Conclusion

“If—” read in the context of prison and Christian perspective becomes a layered meditation: on interior discipline in adversity, on truth and repentance as foundations for moral renewal, and on suffering as both trial and possible conduit for spiritual growth. Kipling’s virtues—temperance, courage, humility, resilience—when yoked to Christian love and a theology that refuses to romanticize incarceration, offer a framework for inmates to endure, transform, and witness to hope that transcends walls.

While the poem offers a noble vision of human resilience, when read alongside the reality of prison, it reveals its limits. Christian faith does not replace discipline or endurance; it reshapes them. It allows strength to coexist with confession, hope with accountability, and dignity with humility. Behind bars, the ultimate test is not whether one can stand tall alone—but whether one can be transformed when standing is no longer possible.

Testimony

In April of 2025 I was given the opportunity to give my testimony to a group of Keryx volunteers preparing for a Keryx Weekend Spiritual Retreat at Mid-Michigan Correctional Facility.  Prior to Covid they were able to conduct these retreats twice a year.  After Covid it took several years to even begin having weekly groupings with outside volunteers.  Currently they are only allowed to have one weekend retreat per year.  Covid had a significant impact on the Keryx ministry as it did on so many other faith-based ministries.  The need to recruit and train new volunteers means that about one third of the men for the upcoming weekend had never been involved previously.  In preparation for the Keryx Weekend the volunteers gather for three weekend training events.  One of the highlights of this training is that the Rector for the weekend will invite a former inmate who was part of Keryx to come and speak to the group about the impact that Keryx has on the participant’s lives both in prison and after release.  This testimony allows the ministry volunteers to understand how vitally important and life changing these weekends can be for the inmates who attend.

“My name is Tim and I sat at the table of Timothy here in St. Louis level 1 at Keryx 9.”

“I am here to give my testimony and to speak specifically about the Impact that Keryx can have on those who attend a weekend and get involved in regular Keryx meetings while serving time and after they are paroled back into their communities.”

“I grew up in a Christian home and regularly attended church my whole life.  I attended Spring Arbor College and earned a BA in Chemistry and Biology in 1986.  I did a Master’s program in Environmental Studies at Michigan Technological University. Education is a major indicator of whether or not a person is likely to go to prison.“

“After graduation I took a job working for an engineering firm and got married to a college sweetheart.  One of my job assignments was to perform asbestos air monitoring behind the walls of the old prison in Jackson in the intake unit. For a week, every day I was escorted thru the cell block and locked in the attic.  We were chaperoned by a guard and took our breaks on the yard.  I told myself after that experience that I would never see the inside of a prison again.  In less than 2 years I was headhunted by an Environmental Laboratory in Ann Arbor.  We moved there and started a family.  Having a stable family life and work environments is another indicator of whether or not someone might go to prison.“

“We attended the local Free Methodist church near where we lived in Ypsilanti. I was involved in couples and men’s groups.  For 20 years I was a sound man running AV for the church. I was elected to the church board, served as a trustee and on the Pastor’s cabinet. Having deep social and spiritual connections is yet another indicator of whether or not someone might go to prison.“

“In 2008 I defied the odds and was sentenced to serve 8-12 years in the MDOC.  While waiting in the Washtenaw County jail for sentencing, I was served with divorce papers for our 20th anniversary and had my parental rights terminated for my 17-year-old daughter.  I spent the first 5 ½ years of my sentence in Jackson at Cotton Correctional.  I started in level 4 and worked my way down to level 1.  While I was serving time I worked as a tutor in the GED program.  I attended the Protestant church services on Sunday’s.  There isn’t a Keryx program at Cotton. I worked on my spiritual growth by reading all of the books by Chrsitian authors I could get my hands on and memorizing scripture. But my spiritual life was dry, it felt like my prayer’s were going unanswered.”

“The only outside contacts I had were my parents.  They faithfully supported me and encouraged me.  They came every month almost without exception for 8 years.  It was from them that I learned about the earthly manifestation of unconditional love.”

“I was jumped by a gang member in a hit, because another member had gotten caught breaking into my bunkie’s locker. They thought I was a snitch. While I was being attacked in the bathroom, the gang was ransacking my locker.  God intervened and a CO passing by the bathroom stopped the attack.  I was taken into protective custody and transferred to St. Louise level 1.  The COs recovered most of my earthly possessions, which fit into a footlocker and a duffle bag.  When I went to the property room, the CO told me that the power cord had been cut on my TV.  Normally that would mean that they wouldn’t give you back the TV, but the CO surprised me by saying that they were going to repair it.  I was able to pick it up the next day after they had put a new cord on it. No one on the inside that I spoke to said they had never heard of that happening before.”

“I had seen a posting in my housing unit for a Keryx weekend and sent a kite to the chaplain’s office.  I had heard from some of my church brothers in the housing unit that this was a great opportunity.  I was again attending Sunday service and Tuesday night Bible study, but it wasn’t meeting my needs by just having access to a worship service, Bible study and spiritual reading material.  I was again jumped by two gang members on the yard at the direction of my gang leader bunkie, because he thought I had snitched on his spud juice storage location.  In prison, everything is always someone else’s fault, that getting caught couldn’t possibly be because of anything you did, because you’re slick and the COs couldn’t possibly find out without someone telling.  This was regardless of the fact that anyone walking by our cube could smell it from 20 feet away.”

“Instead of being rode out, I was moved from the west side to the east side of the prison.  I again meet church brothers who encouraged me to apply when the next Keryx weekend was posted.  I got accepted and that weekend changed my life.  I had reached the point after being jumped twice in less than a year where I was losing hope.  I felt like my prayers were hitting the ceiling.  My hope for release at my ERD seemed slim based on what the parole board was doing to the guys I knew that had seen the board and been denied. The future looked bleak and my faith was beginning to crumble. The idea of having family, meaningful employment, community and spiritual connections was a fading dream that I didn’t believe I would ever have after I eventually got paroled.”

“Keryx changed that.  I found community and spiritual connection.  I served on three Keryx weekends.  I was a soundman for two and had the privilege of serving in the prayer room for my last.  The outside volunteers that I met treated me like a person and not a number. Their faithfulness in showing up every week for grouping meant more than I can possibly express.  That includes a number of you here in this room.  It is because of Keryx that I regained the spiritual fire that had once burned in me.  In Keryx I found likeminded brother’s in Christ, who encouraged me as I encouraged them.  My prayer’s now reached heaven and answers began to rain down.”

“I was paroled at my ERD.  I was a prodigal son who was welcomed home and given the family credit card.  I served most of my parole as care giver to my mother.  She’s had two knees, two hips, a shoulder and an ankle replaced, so far. I was able to attend my parent’s church and got to taste again the spiritual and community relationships that had come to mean so much to me in Keryx.  My first job working outside of the house was working as a dishwasher at a restaurant where half the staff was wearing a GPS tether. After parole, I began the process of looking for real, meaningful employment. I had the experience of having an application ripped out of my hands before I could even complete it, because of an instant background check.  The lady said she was sorry for my wasting their time.”

“I did find a job where the criminal background check was only focused on the last 7 years, and I got hired.  I started at the bottom as a media blaster cleaning metal engine parts.  That was 5 ½ years ago.  Now I am one of two regional project managers for a quality inspection company overseeing projects all over southeast Michigan.”

“In the last two weeks of my parole I met an old friend who’s father had just passed away.  She and her mother came to church to see friends and to say “thank you” for all the support the church had been providing to them as they mourned.  Leanne and I have been married for four years now.  A Keryx volunteer and pastor named David officiated our backyard wedding during Covid-19.”

“I had written to Wayne, care of the Keryx mailing address after I had been released.  He couldn’t reply to me obviously, but he did pass my contact information to David, who reached out to me about this new ministry that was starting in the Detroit area.  It was there that I met Scott.  Freedom Dreamers has a small group component.  When Covid-19 shut down society, Scott, myself and another brother DJ who had served time, grouped on line with visits from other Freedom Dreamer and Keryx brothers.”

“Scott and his wife became closes friends and my wife helped care for her from time to time during her illness, and was one of the last people to be with her before she lost consciousness and passed.”

“Jesus promised life and not just life, but abundant life.  There was a time before Keryx where my faith wasn’t strong enough to believe that.  A time when everything that I had worked so hard for was taken from me.  A dark place where I didn’t think that I would ever see the light of day again. But Keryx was that light shining in the darkness.  Keryx outside volunteers became the hands and feet of Jesus, bringing more than donuts and songs.  Keryx lead me to service with Freedom Dreamers.  Keryx helped me find my voice.  I have published a blog with over 100,00 words called Christ, Crime and Punishment at www.ccpministries.org, where I reflect on my time in prison, the correction system, societies impressions of crime and punishment and the Christians place in the criminal justice system.”

“I believe that without Keryx I would not have been able to endure prison, like Job endured Satan’s testing.  My life after prison has been richer and more fulfilling than I could have ever dreamed.  I came out of the fiery furnace like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego praising God and not smelling even like smoke.  I survived the Lion’s den like Daniel.  I have experienced Peter’s forgiveness and Paul’s enlightenment.”

“That doesn’t mean that my life hasn’t been without difficulties or pain.  My daughter has chosen not have a relationship with me.  At the holiday’s I learned thru a prayer by my father when he thanked God for his children, grandchildren and great grand child, that I had become a grandfather.  I don’t even know my grandson’s name and will probably never get to know him.  But I trust in, cling to and rely on God to provide for me, and that everything rests in God’s hand and His perfect timing.  Just like when God brought you and your ministry into my life.”

Sharing my testimony not only brought tears to my eyes, but to many men in the room.  For now, it is as close as I can get to participating in Keryx as an outside volunteer. But my hope and prayer is that someday I will be blessed with the opportunity to go inside the walls and minister to my brothers through this powerful ministry that is impacting so many in such miraculous ways.