How the Good News Transformed Mitch’s Life
My name is Mitch*, I’m 54 years old, and I’ve spent 28 years in prison. My parents split up when I was a kid, and I lived with my mum. Mum was busy with her career, which left me to fend for myself – I won’t pin my life decisions on her, but a 13-year-old shouldn’t be given a carte blanche. They need structure and regular schooling. I wasn’t given that. Each day, I went off on my own and did whatever I wanted to do. By the time I was 15, I was hanging out on the streets and was addicted to alcohol and drugs.
Like plenty of other kids, I wanted to impress my friends. But unlike other kids, my friends were committing crimes, so I tried to impress them by committing more serious crimes. It started small, but it grew and grew until one day at school when a teacher ripped my earring out of my ear. My friends and I decided to egg his car to get back at him. But as we approached the car, we saw he had left his keys in the car. One thing led to another, and we took the car for a joy ride and blew it up on the school oval. That was the first of 18 stints in the juvenile detention centre.
In juvie, I remember seeing the older kids beating up the younger ones and thinking, “That’s the guy I want to be.” Those older kids were my role models. I didn’t have any role models on the outside, and I ended up spending 28 years in prison because I looked up to them.
But juvenile detention was just the beginning. When I was 18, I was sent to an adult prison. I remember a lot from that stint in prison, but the one thing I’ll never forget is the violence. That was a very violent, very brutal place. You learned to be violent to survive, or you didn’t get through it at all. Each bloke would get into a fight around once a week, so there was pretty constant fighting. Seeing all that violence really affects you. It changes you. After 10 years of that, I came out of prison bitter and savage. It turned me into a monster.
I guess you might be wondering how I turned my life around. Well, it was the last stint in prison where everything changed. Those first few days and weeks in prison, you’re in crisis – whether it’s your first time or you’ve been in 10 times before, it’s always a struggle. I struggled the last time I was out, and I knew I was struggling, so I went to psychologists and psychiatrists, but they turned me away – my history was too violent, so I was left to deal with it by myself, which I didn’t! Everyone I knew at the time was a violent offender. Everyone I knew was in and out of prison all their lives. I wasn’t ready to put it all behind me. At the time, I was so used to a life of crime and prison, and I knew I wasn’t going to be out for long. In fact, I had no intention of staying out.
Soon enough, I was sent back to prison, and one of my mates suggested I get some visits from a prison chaplain. I started meeting regularly with Tim*, who would listen and gently encourage me as I opened up about some really difficult aspects of my life.
My granddaughter was born 13 years ago, around the time of my last sentence, and that hit home for me. I’ve always traded in violence; it’s been my main source of income since I was 15 years old. But my granddaughter’s arrival was a real eye-opener for me. I wanted to do something about it. I shared this with Tim, and we talked about it. One day, he gave me a Bible. I spent all my spare time walking up and down the yard just reading and reading and reading. And then I got to a particular passage, Psalm 51, and I felt this overwhelming presence. It was like a great weight had lifted off me.
I dropped to my knees right there in the yard. There were guys around me, jogging, smoking, fighting, and all that. It was a mountaintop experience, and it was very powerful. In that moment, God wiped away years of mental illness and drug addiction. Years of pain and abuse, of anxiety and stress. It’s a very powerful thing when He decides to touch your life.
After my granddaughter was born, I decided to stay out of prison and build a relationship with her; I wanted to be a present and active grandfather. But as hard as I tried, I just failed and failed and failed. It wasn’t until I tried with the strength Christ gave me that I was able to make changes in my life. I turned my back on all the people I used to know, and I turned my back on drugs, crime, and violence. The Holy Spirit convicted me of my sin and brokenness, and I suddenly realised how much pain and hurt I had caused. God also gave me empathy and compassion for others around me, and I felt remorse for my crimes.
I still had two more years left in my sentence, so I put my head down and got to work. I joke around and say God domesticated me in those two years! I cleaned, cooked, washed, and looked after myself. God gave me a love of labour. I was even cleaning in the hallways and working in the garden. I was given a patch in the garden to grow vegetables, and I would make this “garbage bag salad” for the boys. I’d chop everything up, put it in a garbage bag and serve it to them. Many of the boys stopped eating jail food and just ate my salad. I even cooked pork on the toaster grill and added it to the salad to make it tasty!
Tim continued to visit me throughout my sentence, and I received letters and visits from Prison Fellowship volunteers. I know I’m not the only inmate who has met God in prison. It’s so important to ensure that inmates know the Good News of Jesus. They need to know the Bible! I know a few guys who remember when they got their first Bible and the difference it made in their lives. It all comes down to the first time we read the Bible—that’s where we meet God.
Since my release a few years ago, I’ve been working hard to carve out a new life for myself. I’ve got good people in my corner and a great partner, too. I’ve got hope for the future, and I’m now giving back, helping other inmates when they leave prison. Christ made us fishers of men – not just by spreading his gospel but also by sharing hope through the work He does in us. It hasn’t been an easy road, but I’ve had a smile on my face and a great sense of peace because I know I am forgiven. There’s still a way to go, but I can see that some really good things are happening, and it started the moment I got down on my knees! The very moment I surrendered to God!
Mitch*, former inmate
