God planted me in a unique part of culture. Besides running a produce business near Seattle, I also compete in professional bodybuilding since winning the 2004 Mr. USA.

The Lord put it on my heart to engage men to consider their legacy. To press God’s calling upon the men in my profession to be cultivators and producers—and hopefully ignite a desire in them to live up to that calling. To cultivate something of much greater significance than biceps circumference and bench-press poundage.

While bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come (1 Tim. 4:8).

Special Offenders

Young dudes tend to gravitate toward strong men they respect, who—unfortunately—are often not godly men. Recently, God opened an opportunity for me to speak about legacy to a group of about 70 prison inmates. Over 80% of inmates have non-existent or abusive fathers. Legacy rises and falls with the men, so I knew these guys could shed light on the subject.

Before the seminar, I learned that the inmates I would be meeting with were in the Special Offenders Unit. About 75% of them would be sex offenders.

Oh, perfect, I thought—sex offenders! That label elicits a pretty strong reaction: If someone like that touched my girls they would be in a box buried in dirt, with me added to the prison population. I mean, couldn’t we talk to murderers or something? I began praying for humility.

One by one the inmates filed in. Before sitting, each walked over, shook our hands, looked us in the eye and offered their sincere gratitude to us for coming. The only way I can describe their excitement is like kids on Christmas. My preconceived label for these men began to crumble.

The Image and Glory of God

Paul’s words kept repeating in my head: A man is the image and glory of God (1 Cor. 11:7). I realized that despite their crimes, inmates still bear the image and likeness of God. I felt ashamed of my own self-righteous pride in thinking their sin was worse than my own. I believe in the doctrine of total depravity (inherent, total sinfulness), but now I had to walk in it. God is the judge of a man’s heart—I am not. The fact remains: Apart from Jesus, I stand equally condemned before a holy and righteous God.

The Holy Spirit convicted me that 1) these men have souls, and 2) there is hope for transformation. A bad beginning does not have to equate to a bad ending. Opportunity exists to leave a better legacy—either upon their release or by imparting wisdom to other inmates with whom they will invariably come into contact during their life sentences. I went in hoping to help change others, but walked out a changed man, keenly aware of my own sin and filled with sadness for men who didn’t get to go home that night and hug their children and kiss their wife.