Chris’ early years felt normal. His parents were both busy professionals; his mother worked in broadcasting, and his father was a Marine. But things changed when Chris was 12 years old. His parents had a tumultuous divorce, and Chris tried marijuana for the first time.

After the divorce, there was much less supervision at home. Chris often had more freedom than he knew what to do with. While living with his father, Chris continued to use drugs—including trying hard drugs at age 14.

In addition to using, Chris began selling drugs and stealing. His dad decided Chris could no longer live under his roof while partaking in these activities, so Chris moved into a trailer. He called it his “humble hut.” The consequence of having to survive on his own led to an even more regular drug use.

Chris’ drug habit became so out of control that by age 16, he was asked to leave school. He eventually got his GED and started working for a private investigator, which led to several years of working as a bail bondsman, bounty hunter, and corrections officer in both the juvenile and adult corrections industries. Chris also met and married a woman, and the couple had a son named Christopher.

While employed in the corrections field, Chris trafficked drugs within the facilities he worked at. He described himself as a “functioning addict.” He was arrested 43 times, but each time he would bail himself out of jail.

There were two brothers, nicknamed “the twin towers” by the men in the dorm, who came in with Prison Fellowship to teach about the Bible. Chris made a connection with the one named Carlos, who was there when Chris gave his life to Christ. Carlos’ time ministering to the men impacted Chris in deep ways.

“The first time I heard the worship,” Chris recalls, “it was 80 hard-core prisoners. It sounded like angels. My heart just broke at that point.”

Chris’ time in the faith-based dorm proved to be influential. He attended worship services, read the Bible, and grew in his faith. It was a time of preparation.

Chris was transferred to a maximum-security prison. Because of his work history in corrections, he was placed in segregated housing for his own protection. He lived in his cell for 23 hours a day.

Alone in his cell, Chris found himself missing his son. His then-wife (now ex-wife) had custody, and Chris’ communication with his son was limited. Then one day, an Angel Tree application was slipped under his door.

“It was hope that I could give [my son] something while I was in maximum security—you have little to no access. It was just a hope that I could give him something,” he says.

That first year, his son received a basketball from his dad, delivered by Carlos, the very same man who had ministered to Chris in the earlier detention center. This small connection blossomed into a growing relationship between Chris and his son. Soon, they were making contact more often.

While in segregated housing, Chris attended Bible studies led by Dave Cauwels, a former Prison Fellowship board member and friend of founder Charles “Chuck” Colson. Chris and the other men at the study were brought into the room in shackles and placed in cages with their Bibles—and yet, the men attending knew that in another sense, they were free.

Chris also experienced baptism in this same way—he was brought into the yard in shackles and baptized in a laundry cart.

“It was lockdown freedom!” he says.

Chris was released in 2006 after years in maximum security. He immediately made a lunch date with his son and ex-wife. He wanted to regain custody of his son but anticipated it would take time.

Instead, his wife offered him full custody that very same day.

“I gave God glory and honor,” he says. “I figured it was going to be a fight with my ex-wife, but God went through and made a way.”

After release, Chris started doing manual labor for an electrical company.

In addition to running his church’s Angel Tree program, Chris started his own ministry called New Path Ministries, which offered a bed to men returning from prison and allowed them to participate in a recovery program. He called the home “the humble hut,” as a nod to his own early days of addiction.

In 2016, Chris met a woman named Sonya at the church’s coffee shop. Sonya joined his Bible study, and the two discovered a mutual passion for working with the incarcerated community. Sonya had her own ministry called Under His Construction, which housed women after incarceration.

A year later, Chris and Sonya married and consolidated their ministries, maintaining the name Under His Construction. Sonya and Chris now operate a 70-bed facility, with the hopes of expanding to include an additional 100 beds by the end of the year. The program is probation- and parole-approved and includes a discipleship program.

“It’s a call of God,” Chris says. “I don’t just have a church that’s [on Sunday mornings]. I get a pulpit opportunity night and day. … It is a call from God that 30 years ago, I never would have guessed I would be the man I am today.”

“That’s the greatest joy I have every year. Just that giving back to the children.”
—Chris