This past Saturday, I had the privilege of stepping into a sacred space — one filled with second chances, open hearts, and the kind of hope that only comes from having walked through the fire and come out the other side.

I was invited to share a message with the men at Turning Point Bridge and their families, and I can honestly say I walked away more blessed than anyone I spoke to that day.

More Than an Event

Under the tents that afternoon, there was food, laughter, kids running around, and families reconnecting with fathers, sons, and brothers who are working their way back — back into their families, back into their communities, back into purpose. That’s what Turning Point Bridge is all about: giving men a bridge from where they’ve been to where God is taking them.

I brought copies of my book, The Divine Set Up: From Prison to Pulpit, because if there’s one thing I know in my bones, it’s this — your worst chapter doesn’t get the final word. I’ve lived that truth. And every man I handed that book to, every hand I shook, every photo we took together, was a reminder that redemption isn’t just a nice church phrase. It’s a lived reality.

Standing at the Podium

When it came time to speak, I looked out at faces that carried stories — some hard-won victories, some still-in-progress battles, and a few families just grateful to have a Saturday together in the sunshine. I didn’t come with a polished sermon. I came with a testimony: that the same God who took me from prison to pulpit is doing a work in every single one of them too.

That’s the message I try to carry everywhere I go — that no one is too far gone, no story is too broken, and no setup of the enemy can out-maneuver a divine set up from God.

The Word for the Day: Romans 8:18-19

The passage that anchored everything I shared that day was Romans 8:18-19 — Paul’s words that our present sufferings can’t even be compared to the glory that’s coming, and that all creation is waiting, almost on tiptoe, for what God is about to reveal in His sons and daughters.

I broke that message open for three different groups sitting under those tents, because each one needed to hear it a different way:

To the men — I spoke straight to where they live. Prison time, probation, the weight of rebuilding a name and a reputation — that’s real suffering, and I never want to minimize it. But Paul isn’t asking anyone to pretend the pain isn’t real. He’s saying the pain isn’t the end of the story. Whatever these men have walked through, it’s not worth comparing to what God is getting ready to reveal in them, not just to them. Their present season is not their final season.

To the caregivers — the wives, moms, and family members holding everything together while their man does the hard work of restoration — I wanted them to hear that “creation waiting eagerly” isn’t just a poetic phrase. It’s them. It’s every night they’ve prayed and waited and kept showing up. Their waiting isn’t wasted; it’s part of the process God is using to bring about something glorious on the other side.

To the children — I softened it, but I didn’t skip them. I told them, in kid-sized language, that sometimes grown-ups go through hard, sad things, but God is really good at taking hard things and turning them into good things later — and that watching their dad or their family work hard to get better is actually a front-row seat to one of those good things happening.

By the time I finished, it wasn’t really about me or my story anymore. It was about a prison yard full of people — some incarcerated, some free, some just old enough to spell their own name — all being invited into the same truth: whatever you’re suffering right now is not bigger than the glory God intends to reveal in you.

Why This Matters

Ministries like Turning Point Bridge remind me why this work matters. Reentry isn’t just about a man walking out of a facility — it’s about a family being restored, a community gaining back a father, a son, a neighbor. It’s about the Church showing up in the gaps that the system often can’t reach.

I’m grateful for the invitation, grateful for every man who took a moment to talk with me, and grateful for a God who specializes in turning prison yards into pulpits and dead ends into divine set ups.

If you know someone walking through a season of reentry, or if your church is looking for ways to get involved in this kind of ministry, I’d love to talk with you about it. This work is far from over — and honestly, it’s some of the most rewarding work I get to do.

Grace and grit, Shawn