Issue 1| 2023

My new look quickly attracted the wrong kind of attention.
The colors I wore insulted gang members in my
neighborhood, and I had to deal with them daily, even
though I wasn’t in a gang. I was in their territory, and
that’s all that mattered.
I couldn’t even walk to the bus stop without having to
defend myself, but I didn’t back down, no matter how
many fights I had to endure. I stood my ground and
did what I wanted, and eventually, the bullying and the
fighting stopped.
My rebellion grew rapidly, as did my ego. I started
messing with drugs, using first and then selling. Once
I tasted that fast money, I couldn’t walk away. It made
me feel powerful, accepted, and like I was somebody.
I kept my grades up so my mom wouldn’t think things
were off with me. Plus, I didn’t want to disappoint her.
I followed the house rules, did my homework, and excelled
in sports. After I graduated from high school, I
went to college. But that didn’t last long.
I lived a double life, walking a tightrope between two
opposing identities. My street ego grew and grew, and
I felt invincible. Giving in to the lure of the fast life, I
dropped out of college and hit the streets full time.
And then, one day a drive-by shooting happened in
front of my mom’s house. No one was hurt, but it was
quite the reality check. Those bullets had my name on
them. I was ashamed as I realized the danger I’d brought
to my family, not to mention the heartbreak.
But there was more disappointment ahead, and there
was nothing I could do to prepare my family for it. I didn’t
even see it coming until it was too late.
Something told me not to leave the house that day, but
with full-blown arrogance, I ignored the warning and
headed out, looking for trouble. I found it in a strip-club
parking lot. Before the night was over, a man was dead,
and his blood was on my hands.
I fled the scene and hid in a shed in the backyard of
an abandoned house. Adrenaline pumped through my
racing heart as I heard police sirens and a helicopter
in the distance. I was twenty-eight years old and on the
run for murder.
I’d never prayed before or even thought about God, but
as reality sank in, I somehow knew He was my only hope.
“God, please help me.”
I didn’t expect an answer. At that moment, I felt as
far away from God as a person could get. Why would He
even listen to my prayer? I had just murdered a man!
But He heard it, and He didn’t waste any time responding.
“Are you ready to surrender your life to Me, Andre?”
It was a gentle but direct question, and I knew without
a doubt that it was Him. I wasn’t one to hear voices.
What caught my attention was the use of my name. To
think that God would know me by name! Suddenly, His
presence was tangible, and I realized I wasn’t alone.
Frightened, I continued to run from the authorities and
evaded capture for two weeks. But as I ran, that encounter
never left my thoughts.
What could God possibly want with me? The thought was
confusing. As far as I knew, my life was over.
When the cops finally caught up with me, I was relieved.
They booked me into Pima County Jail and charged me with
first-degree murder. The weight of what I’d done hit me with
such force that I could barely breathe. I became numb and
was unable to process what was happening.
Mom came to see me, utterly shocked by the charges
against me. She had no idea the
depths of my rebellion. “Son, I
know you didn’t do this terrible
thing,” she said. “Tell me what
happened so we can straighten
this all out.”
There was no fixing the situation.
I had to tell her the truth. I
was totally to blame for what had
happened.
Alone in my cell, God’s question
kept coming to mind, “Are
you ready to surrender your life
to Me, Andre?”
Fear. Shame. Guilt. Grief. Anger.
Confusion. Waves of emotion
washed over me. What did I have
to give God?
“I don’t have anything to give
you, God.” I finally told Him. “I’m
a mess, and I’m probably in prison
for the rest of my life.”
I knew nothing about the Bible,
but when I picked one up, the
Lord wasted no time speaking to
I K N E W
NOTHING
A B O U T T H E
BIBLE, BUT
WHEN I PICKED
ONE UP, T H E
LORD WASTED
N O T I M E
SPEAKING TO
MY HEART.
my heart. He showed me Romans 5:8: “But God demonstrates
his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners,
Christ died for us” (NIV).
I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was reading. Jesus
died for me even though He knew I was a sinner? Why? I
had never paid attention to Him. Why would He care about
me? But that’s what it said.
Wow.
I kept reading the Bible and learned so much. Jesus was a
perfect man and also God. He died a horrible death so that I
could have my sins forgiven. That blew my mind. I became
hungry to learn all I could about Jesus, the resurrected
Savior. I was fascinated by His teachings and the people He
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