One Year Ago I Walked into Prison — Today I Walk in Freedom, Fully Restored by Jesus Christ

One year ago, I walked into prison.

I remember that morning vividly—the silence in the car, the heaviness in the air, the trembling in my hands. It wasn’t fear that made me shake. It was the overwhelming weight of everything I was leaving behind and the reality of everything I was about to face.

But more than anything, I remember how I felt deep inside: torn open. I carried sorrow and regret—but also a strange sense of anticipation. The kind of anticipation that only makes sense when God is all you have left… and you realize He’s more than enough.

Yes, I was walking into prison.
But I wasn’t walking in as a man defeated.

I walked in surrendered.
Stripped of excuses, pretenses, and pride.
And despite it all, I walked in full of hope.

Because long before that day, I had already met Jesus—and I had already given Him everything.

The World Took My Freedom, But God Took My Heart

Nothing truly prepares you for the moment you enter prison.
It’s stark.
It’s lonely.
It feels final.

Even though I knew this was the consequence of my actions, it still pierced me deeply. It made everything real in a way I had never experienced before.

But while the world took my freedom, Jesus took my heart—and He did it in a way I never expected.

Within the walls of confinement, I encountered the presence of God more powerfully than I ever had on the outside. It didn’t take long to realize: you can be locked in physically and still walk in freedom—if Christ is with you.

I didn’t pray for a lighter sentence.
I didn’t beg to get out early.
I asked for transformation. I asked God to do something in me that would last far beyond my time behind bars.

And that’s exactly what He did.

Prison Became My Wilderness—And My Sanctuary

It sounds strange to say, but prison became holy ground for me.
It was like the wilderness where God led the Israelites—not as punishment, but as preparation. A place to strip away distractions and reveal Himself.

There were days when the silence felt overwhelming.
Days when regret settled heavy on my chest.
Days when the ache for Jackson, my people, my life, was too deep for words.

But in those moments, God didn’t feel far away. He felt closer than ever.

I began to open my Bible, not out of obligation, but from pure desperation. The Psalms echoed the cries of my own heart. The Gospels brought me to tears as I read about the mercy of Jesus. Paul’s letters from his own prison cell reminded me that I was not alone in mine.

God’s Word came alive to me.
It fed my soul, rewired my mind, and began to heal parts of me I thought were beyond repair.

“And if it puts me in the fire, I’ll rejoice, ’cause You’re there too.”
— Christ Be Magnified

Worship became my weapon.
Prayer became my lifeline.
And God became my anchor in the storm.

A Place Where the Spirit Moved: Chestnut Mountain Ranch

Not long after, God brought me to Chestnut Mountain Ranch—a place unlike any other. A refuge. A ministry. A community where the Holy Spirit is alive and moving.

At the Ranch, the work that began in prison deepened. It wasn’t just a place to serve—it became a sacred space of healing and restoration. Surrounded by men & women of faith who live out grace and truth, I witnessed the love of Christ in action.

The Spirit of God moved through that place and those people in ways that reached deep into my soul. Chestnut Mountain Ranch wasn’t just part of my story—it was a divine appointment.

God Didn’t Just Forgive Me—He Rebuilt Me

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I started to see it:
I wasn’t the same man anymore.

Not because I had figured everything out.
Not because I had grown stronger.
But because Jesus was doing the slow, holy work of restoration.

He reminded me that my identity wasn’t found in my past, in my prison ID, or in the labels and judgments of others. My identity was—and still is—rooted in who He says I am:

Redeemed.
Restored.
Loved.
Chosen.
Free.

Jesus took every shattered piece of my story and began to build something new—something stronger and sacred.

I wasn’t being reformed by a system.
I was being transformed by the Savior.

Walking Out, But Not Walking Away

Eventually, it was time to leave.

I walked out wearing the same clothes I wore when I entered, but I was not the same person.
I didn’t walk out ashamed.
I didn’t walk out bitter or defeated.

I walked out restored.
I walked out forgiven.
I walked out with purpose—not in spite of my past, but because of what God had done through it.

And here’s the truth: I didn’t leave God behind in that place. I carried Him with me.

Now, one year later, I can say with full confidence:

Prison wasn’t a detour. It was destiny.

It was the fire that refined me.
The soil where my roots grew deep.
The place where I stopped running and finally met the God who had never stopped pursuing me.

This Is My Testimony

I don’t share this story to glorify my past.
I share it to glorify the God who redeemed it.

If you feel stuck in your own kind of prison—whether it’s addiction, shame, fear, greed, pride, or regret—I want you to know something:

Jesus still saves.
Jesus still restores.
Jesus still rebuilds.
And it begins with surrender.

When I let go of the life I was trying to control, Jesus did what only He could do.

“He brought me out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay;
He set my feet upon a rock, and made my footsteps firm.”
— Psalm 40:2

One Year Later

One year ago, I walked into prison with tears in my eyes, fear in my mind, and hope in my heart.

Today, I walk in freedom.
Not just physical freedom—but soul-deep, spirit-led freedom.
I am restored.
I am redeemed.
I am forever changed by the grace of God.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9

This is not the end of my story.
This is the beginning of a new one.

And I will spend every breath I have telling the world:

Jesus is faithful.
Jesus is enough.
Jesus still sets captives free.

And Jesus saved a wretch like me!

Posted on July 13, 2025

By Joshua Gregg