“The letters reminded me I was still loved—that I still had value.”
Before prison, Juan Pablo’s life was marked by addiction, chaos, and choices that felt impossible to escape. Drugs, alcohol, and the pressures of the street defined his days. Although he believed in Christ, his faith was not active. After his arrest and incarceration, during the intense detox period with only a Bible allowed, Juan cried out to God. It was the beginning of a turning point that would reshape his life.
Juan was introduced to Crossroads through his sister, who served with a local prison ministry. What began with a lesson quickly became a source of hope and healing. “Crossroads wasn’t just a Bible course—it was a relationship,” Juan says. Week after week, he completed lessons and received handwritten letters from a mentor he had never met. “She wrote as if she knew me,” he recalls. Those letters—more than 80 of them—spoke life into places marked by shame. They reminded him that he was loved, that he mattered, and that he was a child of God.
As Juan grew in faith, he also grew in leadership. Using Crossroads lessons as his foundation, he became a pastor in his prison yard—leading daily Bible teachings, helping other men complete their studies, and encouraging them not to give up. “The lessons weren’t just theology,” he says. “They were lifelines.” Crossroads gave structure to his study and consistency to his walk with Christ. He completed the program before his release.
When Juan walked out of prison, members of the same church that had supported him inside were waiting—celebrating his freedom and continuing to walk with him on the outside. Today, Juan’s life looks completely different. His speech, priorities, and purpose have changed. He continues to study Scripture, disciple others, and share what God has done. He encourages others behind bars to start their own journey with Crossroads, saying, “There’s no time to waste.”
Your prayers, your letters, and your support make stories like Juan’s possible.
When you serve as a Crossroads mentor—or give to support this work—you remind men and women behind bars that they are seen, valued, and not forgotten. Join us in walking alongside those who are still waiting for a letter that could change everything.