By Robert Happoldt

They used to call me Roger Rabbit. I was a drug addict and a main player in the meth trade in Coffee County Alabama.

Everything I did, I did for me. No one else mattered. It was my way or the highway. Satan had his hooks in me, and no matter what I wanted; drugs, money, or selfish pleasures, I got. Even hate was part of my world.

My wife and I lived in Hell during these 12 years of lawlessness.

I was above man’s law. I was above God’s law. I feared no one. I was a biker with a big gun and lots of dope. I had the world by the tail. Satan and I were partners, and he was the boss. Jesus wasn’t even a figment of my imagination. He didn’t live in my county and certainly not in my life.

In June of 2000, however, my world came tumbling down. The 12th Judicial Drug Task Force busted me on drug trafficking charges. My leader/partner in crime dumped me like a hot potato and left me holding the bag.

Where was he when they carted me off to jail and set a $50,000 bond on me? Hell I presume because he certainly wasn’t standing beside me.

I had, however, learned a lot from him; tricks of the trade you might say. One of them was how to lie; so before long, I was free again on a small bond, and guess who was waiting outside the jail house? That’s right, my old Buddy, Satan.

And before I knew it, I was doing, making, and selling all the dope I could. Satan and I were partners again. But before long, I was back in jail. No longer any use to Satan, he was gone again.

This time my lies wouldn’t work, and I was sentenced to ten years in the Alabama State Penitentiary.

Before I could be transported to prison, a bunch of preachers came by and laid some heavy Jesus stuff on me about how He could set me free. I wasn’t interested nor did I want anything at all to do with Jesus. But one night an unusual preacher came to my cell and said, “God is tired of knocking on your door and you not answering Him.” These words scared the Hell out of me.

Soon after, I was in a stinking, filthy prison reading my Bible. I got to thinking about all the bad things I had done in my life, all the people I had hurt, and all the families I had destroyed with the drugs I had sold. I knew I was in big trouble with God, and if I went to Hell, Satan would be my tormentor instead of my deliverer.

As I sat in my cell of that stinking, filthy prison, I began to make the acquaintance of a man who wanted to become my Heavenly Father, if I’d let him. He wanted to also become my Deliverer from this sinful life that had brought me and my wife nothing but pain and heartache.

I read in 2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new. In other words, Jesus was willing to forgive me and give me a fresh new start.

That was the best deal I’d ever heard of, so I took Him up on it. I got down on my knees on the floor of that dirty, stinking prison and asked the Forgiver to become my Deliverer. Instantly, a peace greater than any high I had ever had came over me. For the first time in my life I knew what true freedom really was. For once I was free!

I still had 3 years to go on my 10 year sentence, but I needed those years to solidify the relationship I knew I must have with Jesus if I was to make it on the outside.

I was released in October of 2004 and am now riding with Heaven’s Saints Motorcycle Ministry. Our ministry focus is youth and prison ministry.

Every week or so I’m back in the very prison where I spent ten years. This time not as a prisoner but as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Instead of showing inmates how to sin, I show them how to have life and have it more abundantly.

Jesus has blessed me in so many ways, a wonderful wife of 15 years who stuck it out, great friends, and best of all, a new life. He’ll do the same for you if you’ll let him. His grace, love, and mercy are sufficient to forgive even you no matter what you’ve done in the past.

Nobody calls me Roger Rabbit anymore because the old man Roger Rabbit died the night Jesus came to prison.

Heaven’s sweet,
Hell’s hot,
You’re going to one,
Ready or not!

Robert Happoldt