Journals, diaries, life logs – whatever you call them, these personal records chart the course of our lives, in all their messy and magnificent detail. John Skipworth’s life story is one powerfully etched in the annals of transformation. His journey, marked by deep valleys of addiction and crime, ascends to the heights of faith and redemption, showcasing a profound spiritual awakening. It all began innocently enough, in the familiar setting of Vacation Bible School. “I understood,” John recalls, “that God had a Son, and that He died for me, and that I could be forgiven of my sins.” This early seed of faith, however, would lie dormant for a time, overshadowed by the complexities of life.
While John held a belief in God, the faith he experienced at VBS didn’t immediately take root in his daily life. “I believe everybody believed in God,” he explains, “but as far as a Biblical belief that produces an action, I don’t believe anybody in our household had that. I don’t want to blame anybody, but I just didn’t follow through with what I said at 12 years old.” This lack of active faith in his immediate environment would later contribute to a spiritual void, leaving him vulnerable to negative influences.
Family instability further complicated John’s young life. His parents divorced when he was just two years old, a foundational disruption for any child. Years later, when his mother and stepfather also divorced, John made a life-altering decision to live with his stepfather. This period marked a significant turning point, and not for the better. “So at 16 years old, I became the designated driver,” John recounts with a tinge of regret. “I drove my stepfather with a broken heart, after my Mom left him. He went deeper in the bottle, and I drove him every night of my life.” This role reversal, placing a teenager in the position of caretaker for a grieving and self-destructive adult, robbed John of his own formative years and exposed him to a world far beyond his maturity.
Living with his stepfather granted John a dangerous kind of freedom – freedom without guidance, freedom without boundaries. This unchecked liberty became a breeding ground for destructive habits. “I went from drinking beer at 15, 16 years old – at 17, I started smoking marijuana, started smoking pot, with guys out at parties. And then, immediately, ran into somebody that was doing cocaine, and 90 days later, I was an IV drug addict, sticking needles in my arm, shooting up drugs. It was an internal void in me, looking for somewhere to belong.” This rapid descent into severe drug addiction reveals a desperate search for belonging and self-medication for an unacknowledged pain, a tragically common trajectory for those lacking positive anchors in their lives.
From user, John quickly morphed into dealer, a grimly predictable escalation in the world of addiction. “I may be selling pot, but I was using as much meth in one day as I could make in a week selling pot, so that cycle went from using and selling and trafficking drugs to using drugs very quickly.” This self-destructive pattern spiraled out of control, leading John further down a path of criminality and danger, where the lines between user, dealer, and criminal blurred into a harrowing existence.
The inevitable collision with violence was brutal and defining. During a drug deal that went horribly wrong, John and other buyers found themselves in a hotel room with sellers when tensions erupted. “We were ready to expedite the deal – ‘Let’s get it over with. Get the drugs bought. Get them out of here, before something really bad happens.’ One thing led to another and a fight broke out. I ran over to a bed, and grabbed a pillowcase off a bed. Everybody’s fighting, and they were trying to get out of the door. And I grabbed a guy – one guy, I did not know him at the time – when he was trying to run out the door, with a pillowcase. And I drug him back in the room. And my buddies immediately ran to the door, locked the door, and we got the guy down on the floor of the hotel room, and gave him a beating that was pretty severe.” This chaotic scene paints a picture of desperation and fear, fueled by drugs and poor judgment, with devastating consequences.
The beating of the young man, JP, reached a terrifying climax. Beaten unconscious, JP was presumed dead by John and his accomplices. Panic seized them, leading to a chilling act of desperation. They wrapped JP in a sheet, drove to a secluded wooded area, and abandoned his body, believing they had committed murder. However, JP was not dead. He regained consciousness and attempted to fight back. “So I hit him and knocked him down and got my friend free from him. And walking away, I looked at my friend, and just said, ‘Cut his throat.’ And before either of us knew what happened, both on drugs, both out of our minds, I’m standing there 10 feet from him, and all of the sudden, blood, all up one side of me. We were both covered in blood, and we went to the hotel room. We were living in a make-believe, tough guy, kind of a sub-conscious, blurry world, that at that moment became very real.” This horrifying moment of violence became a stark awakening, shattering the drug-induced illusion of invincibility and plunging John into the cold reality of his actions.
The aftermath of the crime unfolded with a twist of fate, bordering on divine intervention. The next morning, Easter Sunday, a pastor was preparing for a sunrise service near the canal where JP had been left for dead. “And he was setting up chairs next to that canal, for Sunrise Service, for Easter Sunday morning. And he heard JP gurgling and moaning. He found JP. When he found JP with his throat cut, he notified the authorities.” This discovery set in motion a chain of events that would lead to John’s capture and eventual redemption. The emergency services alerted to the scene were spotted by John’s friends, who recognized the white bed sheet. This detail became a crucial piece of evidence linking them to the crime.
“The authorities said, ‘Do you know him?’ And they said, ‘Yeah, we know him.’ They said, ‘where did this happen?’ They said, ‘A fight happened at this hotel room’. And 20 minutes later the Bozier City PD was at the door of our hotel room, and they arrested everybody in the room.” John’s life of crime had caught up to him. He was arrested and faced the grim consequences of his actions.
John’s initial jail time was 73 days, a brief but stark taste of incarceration. However, this did not immediately deter him. His addiction and criminal behavior continued, resulting in a revolving door of jail stays for four years. Finally, in 2002, a high-speed chase culminated in a 20-year prison sentence due to his status as a third-strike felon. This lengthy sentence marked a definitive low point, a moment of utter despair and reckoning.
In the confines of his prison cell, stripped of all external distractions and facing the enormity of his situation, John experienced a profound spiritual breakthrough. “I laid down on the floor, and I was crying. I was broken. I just started telling God how disappointed I was with myself, how disappointed I was with my life. How I was sorry for hurting my Mom, my Dad, all that shame. I was sorry for hurting that guy in that hotel room. I was sorry for being a drug addict, and a thief and a liar. It seemed like just a few minutes. And it seems just as real today. I just lay there, and I heard the click, click of the electronic door, and they said, ‘Church call.’” This raw outpouring of remorse and confession marked the true beginning of John Skipworth’s transformation. In this moment of utter brokenness, he turned back to the faith of his childhood, not as a distant concept, but as a lifeline.
Responding to the “church call,” John took a tentative step towards spiritual healing. “And I remember getting up out of my cell, and I walked down to church. This little pastor, he came so faithfully and he always opened his service and said, ‘Does anybody want to give a testimony?’ People would get up and say, ‘I’m going home.’ or ‘My mama got healed of cancer.’ I walked up, and there’s probably 150-200 there, rapists, murderers, thugs, gangbangers, killers.” In this unlikely congregation of hardened criminals, John found the courage to share his vulnerability and his newfound faith.
“I walked up there and said, ‘I just want you to know, that today, I went to court, and I found out that I’m a habitual offender, and that I’m going to receive a multi-bill, and I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life in prison for the mistakes I made.’ And I pointed, and I said, ‘But right up there in that jail cell a minute ago, God just saved me, and I’m going to live the rest of my life for God, even if I spend it in prison, cleaning showers.’” This powerful declaration, delivered in a prison church, was a testament to the transformative power of faith. Even facing a life sentence, John had found a purpose beyond his circumstances, dedicating his life to God.
An opportunity for rehabilitation opened up when John was allowed to enroll at Overcomers Training Center, a halfway house, in 2003. This marked a crucial step in his journey towards reintegration into society. While at Overcomers, the group was permitted to attend church, leading to an extraordinary encounter. While waiting for his ride back to prison, John experienced a moment of profound reckoning and forgiveness. “I looked down the corridor there. I saw a gentleman, kind of limping, walking on a cane, and he was getting closer and closer. And the closer he got I started to see a visible scar on his neck. Immediately, I realized it was JP.” The victim of his violent crime was approaching him.
“And he walked up to me, and he stuck out his hand, and the weight of all that responsibility just gripped me. It was on me. It was not a time to be a tough guy. I just broke down and started crying. He said, ‘I forgive you, John. I love you. I’m glad you’re here; God’s about to change your life. God’s going to use you to do great things.’ And he grabbed me and he hugged me. That night he said, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ It was Easter Sunday, five years to the day that the pastor had found him on Resurrection morning.” This incredible act of forgiveness from JP, on Easter Sunday no less, mirrored the themes of resurrection and redemption at the heart of the Christian faith. It was a pivotal moment of healing and reconciliation for both men.
John later learned that JP’s parents had been praying for him for years, a testament to the power of prayer and forgiveness extending beyond the immediate victim. Upon completing his time at Overcomers, a further miracle unfolded – the judge reduced his sentence to seven years instead of the expected 20. John was released from prison after serving three years of his reduced sentence. His life outside of prison took another positive turn when he met Brooke at church in 2009. They married a year later, solidifying his new life built on faith and love.
“I know he had a past,” says Brooke, “but I’ve never seen him that way. Even hearing his story a million times, it’s hard for me to believe it, because I just know who he is, after Christ.” Brooke’s words encapsulate the transformative power of faith in John’s life, highlighting the radical change in his character and identity.
Today, John Skipworth serves as the pastor at Thibodeaux First Assembly of God, a remarkable testament to his journey from despair to deliverance. He continues to share his story, both in writing and in his ministry, illustrating how God continues to work in his life. His life serves as a powerful example of redemption, forgiveness, and the enduring power of faith.
“The largest thing that has changed in me is my identity,” says John. “Who I am. And who I am flows out of who I am in Christ. And slowly, year by year, more of that is beginning to come out of me.” John Skipworth’s story is not just a personal triumph; it is an inspiring narrative of hope, demonstrating that even from the deepest darkness, redemption and a new life are possible through faith and forgiveness.
