PRISON FELLOWSHIP STORIES

When Amber Brown bought her first house outside Minneapolis last year, she couldn’t believe the journey that led her there.

When he was promoted to head manager, Brandon became responsible for hiring new employees. And he knew exactly the kind of people he wanted.

The TUMI House in San Diego is more than a transitional home. It’s a group of men learning how to live free, love God, and be a family.

As a boy, he envisioned money and protection—and joined a gang to find it. Could Martin learn a new way of seeing?

When Ashley's life turned out less than perfect, she used meth to mute her pain. That way of life led to rehab and then prison.

For many parents, incarceration means taking a back seat. But when it came to loving and teaching his daughter, Lazaro was tenacious.

Calvina skipped a night of sleep so her boys to play football with other kids in their situation. She had no idea that God would minister to her, too.

Hector tithed on the money he was making from his drug deals, believing that was enough. But God was after more than just Hector’s money.

First he was the victim—then he was the perpetrator. How could Dillon’s childhood of pain lead to anything but more brokenness?

For years, Raul lived a life of crime. When he got caught, he faced 57 felonies. But God had a greater purpose waiting for him in jail.

For years, the last thing Michelle wanted was transparency. She had way too much to hide. What would happen when God brought her secrets to light?

Maurice isn’t just breaking the cycle of crime for his family. He’s showing others how to end destructive cycles in their own lives.

When it comes to facing adverse childhood experiences, Suzanna Jacobson doesn’t shy away. What happens when summer camp gets real about pain?

Marjorie served as a TUMI instructor at Soledad State Prison from 2014 until she was diagnosed with cancer. Yet her impact continued.

Christ Church New Bern realized they could do more for Angel Tree Kids in their area. First came Camp Hope. But God wasn't finished.