From prison to the path of righteousness.

It was a friday night…

…and once again Michael Headley was in solitary confinement, pacing aimlessly around his 4-by-8 cell. The unbridled fury and rage that consumed him heightened with every passing moment. The culmination of racial tension, badgering guards and heart-wrenching loneliness was driving him mad. The anguish became so overwhelming at times he would sit and beat his head against the wall.

Michael Headley’s journey to this dirty, dilapidated cell in Virginia’s Federal Penitentiary started in Lincoln, Nebraska.

A choleric 12-year-old, Michael began stealing marijuana from his neighbor and smoking it with a friend. Pot served as the catalyst to alcohol and harder drugs. Michael began using and selling during and after high school, and he soon got word that the police were hot on his trail. Michael was confused and empty. “I did what hundreds of aimless teenagers do every day,” he said. “I joined the Navy.”

Michael’s first duty station was Japan.

Although he would have liked to stay clean and sober, peer pressure and the sheer excitement of drug running proved to be too much. It didn’t take long for Michael to pick up where he left off, buying and selling drugs again. Only this time he had a much bigger customer — the Japanese “underworld.” However, on one ill-fated trip his well-laid plans went awry; and although in Japan all charges were dropped, the Navy was not so kind. Michael was charged, sentenced to 10 years’ confinement with hard labor, and given a dishonorable discharge, with forfeiture on all pay and allowances and reduction in rank to E-1.

He was transferred from one prison to another before he finally reached the Norfolk Prison. And so, there he was, guilty as charged, in the middle of another racial riot and serving eight months’ worth of solitary confinement because of it. He wondered where he could find relief for his heart that had grown as cold and dark and hard as the prison that held him.

It just so happened that at that time Chuck Colson’s Prison Fellowship Ministry was visiting the prison.

A minister came by Michael’s cell and asked him to come to church that evening. It wasn’t the first time he’d been visited by a minister. When they had come before, Michael had cursed them; but that night was different. He was lonely and bored; but most of all, he was hot, and Michael knew the chapel was air-conditioned. “When I got there, all these Christians were trying to shake my hand and give me hugs…it made me very angry,” Michael said. Angry, that is, until the message began. Mike recalls, “He was speaking right to me, right to my heart. That day I knew God was real.” Michael went to the altar in tears. “I prayed, ‘God, I really don’t know what’s going on here. I just feel something that feels good to me, something that fills my heart. I’m going to give You a chance.’ ” He was escorted back to his cell — still confined, yet he had been set free. He was still in solitary confinement, but he was no longer alone. Michael Headley had received a pardon — a glorious and divine one.

The next day Prison Fellowship led a workshop that paired inmates with caring families. Mike’s family was Charlie and Ro Bartlett. They visited, prayed for and loved Mike for the remainder of his sentence. “They were essential in discipling me — they still are, even to this day,” says Mike of the husband-and-wife team. “He has truly been through tragedy and ended in triumph,” Ro Bartlett testifies. “He fell at times along the way, but the special thing about Michael is he got back up every time. Of all the prisoners we’ve worked with, Michael is the greatest trophy of grace we have ever seen.”

Life in Prison

Ask Michael what life in prison was like once he was saved and he describes it in one word, followed by a laugh: “Vacation! It was easier to sleep at night because I didn’t worry anymore that I was going to get into a fight. I was able to read my Bible continuously…it’s easier to be a Christian in prison than out of prison.”

On November 30, 1987, two years after his conversion, Michael was escorted from his cell for the last time. Of the possible 365 years he could have spent in prison, Michael was released after only four. He recalls this fact with an introspective sigh. “God’s grace is so rich and deep and so undeserved, isn’t it?” Michael found the transition from prison to the free world a very difficult one. “I felt like a lost ball in high weeds,” Michael said. Back home in Lincoln, Nebraska, he found old friends and old habits. He knew he had to leave home if he was ever to live the life God wanted for him. He bought a motorcycle, headed west and found a future in California. He began sharing his testimony with teens and worked in youth camps. After graduating from Bethany College in 1994, Michael felt the need for still more theological education. “I knew I wasn’t ready to go out and minister. I wasn’t mature enough in my faith, I wasn’t confident enough in my leadership abilities, and I still had a lot to work out in my life. I wanted to understand God’s grace better.”

From Prison to Theology Studies

Michael’s path eventually led him to a Master’s program at the Church of God School of Theology in Cleveland, Tennessee. He currently serves as the pastor of a local church he has founded and shares his testimony whenever he gets the opportunity. “So many people are addicted to the things I was addicted to; and when I tell my story, they can relate. I don’t want to share a testimony that says I was a big mean guy that sold drugs to the mob and went around beating people up in prison and then I got saved and then was perfect. That’s not reality. Reality is that God did an incredible thing in me, but I’ve failed many times since then. I don’t want people to think I’m squeaky-clean. I’m just confident — confident that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it. He continues to forgive and heal, and He continues to work in me in spite of me.”

Recently Michael went back to Virginia to visit the Bartletts.

It had been almost a decade since they had last seen him. “It was like seeing our son again,” says Ro. “He’s not the same kid we used to minister to; he’s a mighty man of God.” Did Ro ever think her favorite ex-con would still have such a zeal for God so many years later? “I can’t tell you I thought he’d be the giant he is today. We knew Michael went through a tremendous transformation. So many times with prisoners the old man consumes the new. He didn’t let that happen.

When times of discouragement come in our working with inmates and their families, we need to look no further than Michael to realize that it’s worth every moment we spend.

God doesn’t give up on anyone, and neither should we.