My name is Brian Jenkins, and this is my ministry.
All I want to do is teach the Word of God. It’s my passion. It’s my calling. I know firsthand the power of Scripture—it has saved me and transformed my life. The Word is alive, and I want to bring it to people. I want others to experience what I have. I long to see lives changed by the truth of God’s Word for His glory.
Believe me—it can happen. I’m living proof. By every natural measure, I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be leading a ministry or proclaiming the gospel. I should be dead. A little over six years ago, I nearly was.
I was born in Roanoke, Virginia, in 1986. My parents were kind and loving and did their best to provide a good life for me and my two younger sisters. We were a happy family overall. We took vacations to the beach, traveled to sporting events, and shared many good memories. My parents taught me right from wrong and prepared me as best they could for the real world. For that, I’m truly grateful.
God was occasionally mentioned in our home. My mom had a family Bible, and I remember being read from a children’s story Bible with colorful pictures. My parents believed in God and in Jesus, but we didn’t go to church, pray at meals, or study Scripture together. Conversations about God were rare.
The majority of my early spiritual influence came from my grandparents on both sides. My grandmothers, Joyce Jenkins and Mary Brickey, often spoke to me about Jesus. When my parents traveled, we stayed with them—and that’s when I’d go to church. But I never paid much attention. I didn’t enjoy it.
By the time I reached my teenage years, God, the Bible, and faith were not priorities in my life. Like many young people, I was self-absorbed. At a young age, I was exposed to pornography and quickly became caught in its grip. My mom tried to explain how it degraded women. My dad didn’t seem too concerned. I grew up thinking it was normal—even healthy—for boys to look at porn. I’d later learn just how damaging that lie was.
In May of 2003, I was 16 years old. My parents had given me a car, and I was gaining more independence. That year, Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham, hosted a multi-day festival in Salem, Virginia. Churches across the region participated. My grandparents asked me to attend with them. At first, I refused—it just didn’t sound appealing. A few hours of preaching and worship music didn’t seem like my kind of night. But my parents asked me to go as a favor to them, so I reluctantly agreed.
What I didn’t know was that I was about to encounter the living God.
The first day of the event, it poured rain. We were seated on the football field at Salem Stadium, soaked but present. Worship bands led the crowd in songs, and eventually Franklin Graham came forward to preach. I don’t remember the content of the sermon, but I do remember one verse that pierced my heart:
“How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” —Romans 10:14 (ESV)
As he preached, I felt something I had never felt before—a warmth in my chest, a sudden realization that everything I had heard about Jesus growing up was true. I felt convicted. I felt drawn. I believed. And when Franklin invited people forward to receive Christ, I didn’t even think—I just moved. My body responded to the Spirit pulling me. I walked to the front, where a volunteer met me. “I believe,” I told him. “I believe!” He prayed with me, and for the first time in my life, I truly repented of my sin. I’ll never forget that moment—standing in the rain, overwhelmed with joy and wonder. I knew then: I would never be the same.
The change was immediate. I was hungry for the Word. I read the Bible constantly. I couldn’t wait to go to church. I joined my grandparents’ youth group. I started listening to Christian music, praying throughout the day, and striving to walk with God. That season was full of joy and growth. I even committed to giving up pornography—though it would take years before I’d be fully delivered from that struggle. I went on retreats, mission trips, and soaked in everything I could. It was a sweet and foundational time in my faith.
But that’s not where my story ends.
I should’ve mentioned earlier—I wasn’t always easy to raise. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age twelve. I’ll never forget my first depressive episode. My parents had given me a golden retriever named Jordan, after Michael Jordan, my childhood hero. Though technically the family’s, he was my dog. I loved him. But when my asthma worsened, my parents made the hard decision to send him away. I was devastated. The grief lingered far longer than normal. Eventually, I was diagnosed with clinical depression.
About a year later, I had my first full-blown manic episode. In a fit of rage, I pulled a knife on my mom. That’s when the doctors confirmed I had bipolar disorder, and my journey with learning to cope with it began. My mom was a faithful advocate for me, and to this day I take my treatment and condition seriously.
Bipolar disorder often walks hand-in-hand with substance abuse, and I was no exception. I used drugs to self-medicate my lows or chase the euphoria of my highs. It became a lifelong battle. I’ve attempted suicide four times. Praise God, none were successful. The worst came in 2019.
2016 had been a high point. I was promoted to Pressman at work, something I’d worked toward for years. The raise allowed me to buy my first home. Shortly after, I met Bethany Kimble—my future wife. We dated briefly, but the timing wasn’t right. I still had a lot of growing to do. And growth was coming—but through fire.
By 2018, life was looking up. I was operating a $7 million Heidelberg press, owned a home, and had survived a manic episode in 2017. I met another woman at work, and things got serious. She had two older kids. We were talking about marriage. We went to church, prayed together, even abstained from sex to honor God. I stopped viewing pornography. I thought she was the one.
Then I found out she had been unfaithful—not once, but multiple times. It crushed me. I ended the relationship, knowing I deserved better. But I didn’t cope well. I spiraled into drug use again. I wanted to die.
So I made a plan: I would overdose on heroin.
I got the heroin, but before taking the full dose, I decided to try a small amount. It was enough to knock me unconscious. My family couldn’t reach me and eventually found me in my bed, unconscious and lying in urine. As paramedics loaded me into the ambulance, one told my mom he didn’t think I’d survive. I should’ve died. If I had taken the full dose, I would’ve. If my family hadn’t found me, I would’ve. If my sister—a nurse—hadn’t suspected it was heroin and insisted on Narcan, I might not be here.
But by God’s grace, I survived.
I woke up in the hospital. The heroin had caused two strokes—one on each side of my brain. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t feed myself. I couldn’t even sit upright. I needed help with everything. On top of that, I was still deeply depressed and longing for death.
But in that darkness, God whispered, “I’m not done with you yet.”
Just before the overdose, I had started texting Bethany again. As I fought through months of intense physical and psychological therapy, she was there. Her love and presence became a source of hope. We rekindled our relationship. I asked her to marry me, and in October 2020, we said “I do.”
That same year, God called me to ministry.
I started a Facebook group where I taught the Bible. I don’t know how much impact it had on others, but I know it changed me. I grew. I matured. Eventually, I realized the group wasn’t the right platform for my calling. You can read more about that in the “About the Ministry” section.
My calling is to teach the Word. That’s what I’m doing now.
Today, I run a ministry devoted to proclaiming the gospel, teaching Scripture, and telling people what Jesus has done for me—and what He can do for them. I’m happily married to a wonderful woman of God. We have two beautiful children: Judge and Elliot.
God pulled me from the deepest pit and gave me new life—abundant life.
God is good!!
God is faithful!!
God is worthy of our worship and praise!!