How did I come to know a prisoner named Brad Davenport? And why would I write to a prisoner
anyway? Here’s how it happened.
In late October, 2010, I happened to be watching Daystar TV
when Marcus and Joni Lamb mentioned a prayer request for a minister friend of
theirs named John who had been wrongly accused, tried, and found guilty of
something he absolutely did not do. He
had been friends with Marcus and Joni for years, and Marcus made a plea by
television that day for viewers to send John a card of encouragement, and put
the address on the screen. (I mean, can
you imagine yourself unjustly
convicted and imprisoned?)
The Lord laid it on my heart for me and Dave to send him a
card and to start writing to him November 1, 2010, and I’ve written to him
steadily for 4 ½ years.
One
day I opened John’s letter, and a letter fell out from Brad Davenport, John’s
cell mate. In it, Brad told me John had been
helping him with his Christian life in prison, and asked me if I’d write to him
too. So, I’ve been writing to Brad for several years as well. Recently, he expressed his longing to be able
to make a difference outside the prison walls as well as inside, where he leads
a Bible study and prays for men. John
was moved to a different prison a couple of years ago in a different state, but
I continue to write Brad as well.
I told Brad I write a blog and invited him to share anything
he would like with the world. So he
wrote me a missive that I’ll be sharing with you in several posts, and I’ll
honor his request to re-write the structure and flow for him. (Oh, and just so you know, Brad is not allowed
to receive anything directly from anyone—not even postage stamps—except letters
and photos. It has to come from a place
like Amazon.com, or a magazine subscription, etc. If you wish, financial gifts can be sent via
money order to Federal Bureau of Prisons, P.O. Box 474701 , Des Moines ,
Iowa , 50947
Brad sent me this plain paper picture last summer. He identified himself as "Me" in the back row.
And now, here’s Brad.
Brad Davenport
Reg. # 12763-032
Federal Correctional Institution McKean
March 30, 2015
“Hello Friends and Christian family,
My name is Brad Davenport from Kentucky ,
and I’m currently in Federal custody at F.C.I McKean, Pennsylvania . I’ve been locked up since 2008. I know in my heart God has called me to
minister, since He has dramatically changed my life through Christ Jesus and
Holy Spirit.
I would like to share some of my life with you all, hoping
my testimony will help you with your walk with Christ. And if you don’t know Him (Jesus Christ) as
your personal Savior and Lord, just maybe my testimony will help you want to
know Him and have a healthy relationship with Him. I have a heart for prison ministry and of
course our future generation; children stay on my heart and mind a lot. I hope
that even children can get something out of my testimony that will encourage
them to pursue God with all their hearts.
Please keep Matthew 9:13 in mind as you read my story. Jesus says “He came not to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance.” And friends
and family, we have all fallen short of the glory of God in some shape, form or
fashion. See Romans 3:23.
Let me start at the beginning. I was born in July of 1977 and raised as a
country boy in McCreary Co., Kentucky . I spent a lot of my time outdoors—hunting,
fishing, playing in the woods, barns, etc.
My parents were poor, but honestly, I was happy, even though
I didn’t have everything others had. I
was very free-spirited and did pretty much as I pleased, which led me into a
lot of my troubles. My parents weren’t
very good at discipline. My mother was
born without hip sockets and has been crippled all her life; she walked funny
and couldn’t run after us kids. I have a
sister Amanda, and a younger brother, Chris; I am the oldest.
My dad was and still is a party person, always drinking and
doing drugs of every kind. He hung out
with his friends: bikers, mafia people, and local drunks. So as I grew up, I met all kinds of
people. Dad was into selling drugs and
everything else you could imagine. But I
have to be honest: he was never abusive to any of us kids; he and Mom fought a
lot, though. He would slap her and
stuff. And of course, once I was old
enough, I would jump in when he started in on her. He quit hitting her once I was grown, ‘cause
he knew I wouldn’t allow him to hit her anymore.
But once I got to my sixteenth birthday, he and I started
hanging out a lot together. I thought it
was cool to go a lot of places with him I should not have gone, doing grown-up
stuff. I thought I was just becoming a
man. So during this time, Dad allowed me
to drink beer, liquor, smoke pot and snort cocaine, and “crank” with him. So by the time I was eighteen, I was already
a drunk and hooked on drugs. Some of my
friends thought I had the coolest dad; I just thought it was normal.
I was introduced to sex during all of this; my dad had no
respect for women except for one: my grandmother, his mom. Trust me: biker guys are not nice to their
women! I was taught women were made to
be seen and not heard and some other things I won't write about.
Did I believe in God during all of this? My answer might surprise you. Yes, I actually did! Sometimes during my childhood my mother would
get involved with different religious stuff.
She went to a Mormon church for awhile and talked with Jehovah’s
Witnesses. When I went to my
grandmother’s house (my dad’s mom), she always had a big white Bible on the
coffee table. And sometimes someone
there would say something about God.
So yes, I believed there was a God, but my first real
encounter with God was when I was about twelve or thirteen. We lived beside the Douglas
family and they were church people. I
befriended their son, Jimmy, who became like my older brother. His step-dad, Nick, invited me to a home
service at one of his friends’ house across town. And since Jimmy’s cousin, Donnie, was going,
I figured I would, too. While I was
there I heard them play what they called “gospel music.” It was amazing and I felt the power in it
right away. And then I realized we
didn’t just come to visit—they were expecting to do Christian stuff.
While Donnie and I were sitting there listening to them play
music, the older men explained the way of salvation through Jesus to us. I looked over at Donnie and saw he was
crying. They asked him if he would like
to be saved, and he said “Yes,” so they prayed with him. Then they turned to me and asked me the same
question; of course I said “Yes” to Jesus and whatever else they said.
As soon as we were done with getting saved, we went outside
to mess around, and my temptation started immediately. There was this girl about our age who lived
next door; we got started talking about kissing, and wouldn’t you know, I kissed
her, even though I knew it was wrong.
But honestly, I didn’t “feel saved” as they called it. So we went back to the Douglas ’
home, got out of the car, I headed home.
(We lived in an old beat-up 80’ long single wide trailer, but it was home
to me. And to tell you the truth, I miss
it to this day!)
When I entered my yard, I began to feel really light and
happy. I thought I was going to
literally walk off the earth! I felt as if I could fly! When I entered the front door, my mom asked
where I’d been. When I told her I went
and got saved, she just looked at me funny and said something like,
“Good.” And then I just went to my
room. But from that moment on, I knew
God and Jesus were for real!
I didn’t keep going to church, but went with the Douglas family every now and then to a Baptist church
called “Hilltop.” It was nice, and the
preacher there was something else; he could sure do some preaching. I haven’t heard anyone like him yet, to be
honest with you. I used to go up front
sometimes and repent, only to fall away again.”
To be continued…
Copyright © 2015
Elaine Beachy
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