Burke County

Imagine a distraught mother sobbing over the casket of her son who died of an overdose. Imagine a young boy watching as his mother is led to the bedroom by the third man that day because she needs money for a fix. Imagine a man alone in the woods, shaking in his tent—hungry, tired, knees tucked to his chest, rocking back and forth because his body craves a substance that he cannot get enough of.

This is a reality in Burke County.

I have watched as my generation has plunged headlong into death, absolutely decimated by fentanyl, heroin, and methamphetamine. I am sick of it.

Just as, in 1989, George H. W. Bush declared a war on drugs, so we as Christians must declare war on it this day. My war effort will take place in equipping readers to do battle as I provide information on addiction and recovery.

First, I must equip you with hope. In the darkest hour, a ray of hope must creep over the horizon, or our efforts will be dashed by despair. This battle is not lost, and my story will explain why.

I grew up in a good home. Though my parents divorced, they both loved me and treated me well. I did not grow up impoverished or neglected. Heck, I even grew up in church.

Yet somehow, by the time I graduated high school, I was an alcoholic. By age 20, I was addicted to painkillers and eventually graduated to IV drug use. My life consisted of thievery, debauchery, fighting, and jail.

This downward spiral continued until I was 25 years old. At 25, I was a gang member, a felon, and addicted to every substance you can imagine. To any rational person, I was a lost cause.

There I sat in the old Burke County Jail, locked up once again for felony probation violation and possession of drugs. I was a shell of myself, weighing a mere 150 pounds. Despite my massive decrease in size, I was still the same idiot who loved to fight and steal.

One day, I tried to rob a man of his food. We began fighting, and I slammed his head against the bars. This confrontation landed me in a six-foot-by-eight-foot isolation cell and earned me seven more months in jail.

As I sat in that isolation cell, however, something miraculous happened.

I read a book that taught me about repentance. It quoted the Gospel of Matthew:

“And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.”

God opened my eyes.

I realized I had never approached repentance in this manner. I wanted a “get out of hell free” card. Indeed, I had said the sinner’s prayer a thousand times, but I had never truly repented.

At that moment, a great fear overtook me. I was headed to hell.

Suddenly, the picture of the household of Korah came to mind. I felt as though the earth was going to open up and swallow me whole. I imagined myself plummeting into the depths of hell, where I would be tormented for eternity.

That fear was beyond anything you could ever imagine.

I wanted to bust out of that cell and run to the nearest church, yet there I was, stuck.

After what felt like an eternity, Christian guard Rob Parsons came on duty and walked by my cell. I stopped him and asked, “What must I do to be saved?”

C.O. Parsons led me to Christ that day, and I can tell you that my life changed instantaneously.

Sure, sanctification is a process, and some issues took longer than others. Heck, I still consider myself the chief of sinners (Paul held that title until I was born). Nonetheless, Christ has changed my life immensely.

Now I have a wife and three children. I am a pastoral intern at Faith Presbyterian Church. I serve in prison ministry with ChristSong Ministries. I sit on the Opioid Advisory Board for Burke County. I run a YouTube channel called The Twitchy Theologian. I have published three books.

I have an Associate’s degree in Christian Ministry, a Bachelor’s degree in Pastoral Ministry, and, if Hebrew does not destroy me, I will earn a Master of Divinity degree in the spring of 2027.

If someone had told me nine years ago that I would be where I am today, I would have laughed. It did not seem possible.

But Jesus does what is impossible for man.

What Charles Wesley wrote so long ago in his hymn And Can It Be That I Should Gain? perfectly describes what happened to me and what can happen to all who call upon the name of the Lord.

Read his words and be encouraged:

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray,
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free;
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

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Jerry Duckworth is a Christian theologian, apologist, and writer committed to equipping believers with biblical truth. He serves as a Pastoral Intern at Faith Presbyterian Church and ministers in correctional facilities through ChristSong Prison Ministries. As the creator of the monetized YouTube channel The Twitchy Theologian, Jerry engages a global audience with biblical teaching, apologetics, and theological debate.

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