Saved and Used in Different Ways

Matt Armbruster still looks like he could make a few tackles for Kansas State. Growing up, he helped his dad and uncles farm wheat, cattle and alfalfa on the Kansas plains, but sports eventually got him out of hauling hay bales and driving a combine.

He played linebacker until a knee injury ended his college football career. Not caring much about school, he dropped out of college and moved around the country, making money and having a good time.

“I loved playing college football at Garden City Community College and in my short time at Kansas State, but we were terrible,” he said. “God probably sent me there because he knew I was going to go through more defeats than victories, and I had to learn to keep going. I would rather hire someone that came from a team that was 3-9 rather than 12-0 because it shows perseverance.”

Those defeats, a first marriage that didn’t work, three young daughters he didn’t get to raise and a twisted path to God slowly prepared Armbruster for leading ministries in Mobile that feed the hungry, teach job skills and stop the cycles of addiction and incarceration.

“I didn’t see this desire to change lives coming,” he said. “I grew up thinking church was for weak people and a place to whine about your troubles. Once I found Jesus, it still took me a few years of getting Christianity wrong before I understood my purpose of serving others.”

Armbruster married Tara Skipper in 2003 after dating for five months in Mobile. Both divorced, they once said they would never marry again. Matt said Tara saved his life, but the first years of their marriage were a struggle. Reluctantly, he attended a men’s conference that she hoped would snap him out of his funk.

Barely listening from the top row of the church, Armbruster tuned in when speaker Rick Burgess, of radio’s “The Rick and Bubba Show,” told the story of his young son drowning in the swimming pool of their Birmingham home. After months of anger, Burgess said, he finally chose to glorify God for the life of his son instead of blaming God for taking him away. The message connected with Armbruster, and he became obedient to God.

In 2010, Armbruster had been laid off from a job and was selling restaurant equipment when God gave him a vision of a cafe where anyone could get a hot meal and pay whatever they could afford. God put the word "ransom" from Matthew 20:28 in Tara's heart: ”Just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” The name became Ransom Ministries and together they started Ransom Cafés in seven churches in Mobile and Baldwin counties. 

Wanting to understand those that Ransom served, Armbruster went homeless in Mobile for four days. With only a tent, sleeping bag, change of clothes, $10 and a protein bar, he left his car in a church parking lot at 7:30 a.m. on a stormy Mardi Gras weekend. Hungry and soaked from walking in the rain with no food or water, he searched for a spot to spend three sleepless nights in the woods. 

On Sunday morning, he washed up and drank water from a gas station sink, then walked from church to church on blistered feet trying to find a place to worship and something to eat.

“It was humbling to walk into churches and ask for help,” he said. “Some said they had nothing. Others turned away when they saw me, even though a sign in front of their church said, ‘All are welcome here.’ That day I learned people judge you before they get to know you.”

The hot shower when he returned home was the best he’d ever had. 

"That experience changed my life,” he said. “I understood the fear and distrust of the homeless and feeling less than human without access to showers.”

Matt prayed for a Clean Machine shower and laundry trailer. The donations came in, but soon feeding 400 people a week and providing showers and clean clothes wasn't enough.

"We realized that we were stuck in the relief stage of survival and not helping people out of their situation," he said. "The next step was rehabilitation.” 

The Armbrusters started Ransom ReProgram with eight weeks of job and life skills training to move participants from addiction, trauma, homelessness and incarceration into a career. ReProgram began in the fall of 2015 in an old family tire shop in Chickasaw. 

Ransom has graduated 38 ReProgram classes so far. 

“Our goal became to get people away from needing the cafés and Clean Machine because they could provide these things themselves,” he said.

“We got into this and discovered the connections between prison, addiction, poverty and employment,” he said. “Those are high walls to climb without someone helping you over. We developed a curriculum and job-training program to help break this cycle.”

It’s a program that’s still evolving and growing. 

Ransom experimented with making crosses out of pallets and refinishing furniture for jobs, but those didn’t generate enough revenue for the program to be self-sufficient. Then Armbruster found a program in Indiana that used recycling as a way to create work and revenue. Armbruster began Ransom Recycling in 2019, taking apart broken, outdated or unneeded electronics and harvesting the parts of value. 

“We started the recycling program with one guy who was living in his car,” Armbruster said. “I knew nothing about computers, but we watched YouTube videos and learned how to take electronics apart.”

Ransom Recycling now takes apart computers, copiers, and projectors, anything with a cord, to retrieve the parts inside.

“This year we will take in about 350 tons of electronics,” Armbruster said. “That is 350 tons not sent to landfills, and the service is free to the public.” 

It’s easier and cheaper to throw the old item away and buy a new one, he said, but that creates waste. Almost anything can be saved and used in different ways. It’s a metaphor for life. 

“We reprogram a computer to get rid of the viruses and the ways it was infected,” Armbruster said. “We also help reprogram men and women about how they think about themselves, God, work and their community. When they come to us, their identity is being a bad person. We let them know what they did was bad, but they are wonderfully made with a purpose.”

Ransom ReProgram participants are referred by probation officers, Waterfront Rescue Mission, rehab programs, The Neighbor Center, Home of Grace and McKemie Place, where Tara is now the executive director. 

“Many have been in jail from months to years for anything from drug offenses and stealing cars to murder,” Armbruster said. “They may be out of jail now, but there is a good chance they will return unless something in their life changes. The Alabama Department of Corrections estimates approximately 30 percent of prisoners will return within three years of release.”

During the interviews with applicants, Armbruster goes over the rules and expectations. He warns them that half of the class probably won’t finish but encourages each person to prove him wrong. 

ReProgram classes start with 8 to 12 participants at orientation. The program is 90 days, with 18 classroom sessions that include lessons from character and goal setting to resumes and interviews. Participants are paid for their time in class and recycling. 

Standing next to a sign that says ‘Nothing is impossible with God,’ Armbruster welcomed the next new class to Ransom. After explaining about the drug testing they’ll face and the responsibility of being on time, Armbrusher asked the participants if they knew how much incarceration costs.

“It costs $31,000 to keep you in prison,” he said. “You are costing yourself, your community and the people around you a lot of money. 

“It costs us $5,000 to put you through this program for three months, then hopefully you get out, get jobs and pay taxes,” he said. “That’s a pretty good trade.” 

In 2020, 42 men and women participated in Ransom ReProgram and/or Ransom Recycling. Of those participants, 73 percent graduated and re-entered the job market.

Armbruster can’t guarantee they will get jobs when they leave ReProgram, but he can guarantee they will be better off at the end of 90 days than they were before. They may not know each other now, he said, but they will be family by graduation day. 

“You can give a person a hammer,” he said. “They can either tear a house down or build a house. That's up to them. Same tool but used in two different ways.”

Pointing to signs around the room, Armbruster read aloud the words on them: dependability, enthusiasm, honesty, attitude.

“These are character traits that employers told us they look for in employees,” he said. “There is nothing up there about a criminal record or being smart. Pick one of these and work on it at home.”

The recycling program is called a theater of work, putting classroom lessons into practice to prepare for a real job. It’s also a place for mistakes. 

“You're going to make mistakes,” Armbruster said. “I'm cool with that, because we're going to work through those and learn from them. You will also have mentors to help you through. They are business owners and people that we trust.”

Building trust is an important part of the program, and it begins with listening to each other on story day at the beginning of ReProgram. For some, it’s the first time they have talked about their past. 

They tell stories of childhood abuse and living in homeless shelters. Some started taking meth or were incarcerated by 15. Others were abandoned by mothers or fathers or raised by parents who were addicts. One was 12 years old when his mother gave him a bag of weed, and they smoked it together. He thought that was motherly love.

Chrisshun grew up without a dad but did well in school until he got into drugs. 

“I started making bad decisions and getting high only on the weekends,” he said. “Then we smoked every day after school and eventually skipped school. I rapped, sold drugs and made more bad decisions. I spent three days in jail when I was 19. I went even harder because you couldn't tell me anything.

“Someone tried to rob me, and I shot at them,” he said. “I went back to Metro Jail for nine months, but if it hadn't been for that, I may not be here right now. I decided it was time to take my life seriously. A friend told me about Ransom, and I came here the day I got out.”

At the end of his story, Chrisshun rapped:

“I got the blood of Jesus in me. I got the blood of Jesus in me. 

When I was blind he helped me see. 

I pray to God to go to heaven.

Until I die I'm preaching like a reverend.

I don't want to fry.

Every day I try to be a better guy.

God saved my life. Up in jail he made it right.”

The class clapped and said he should have rapped his whole story. 

Stephanie said that for many years she blocked out childhood memories. 

“I was abused by my stepdad, who I thought was my real dad, and two of my three brothers,” she said. “My brothers took me to the garage of the abandoned house next door. A few years ago, one of my brothers tried to call and apologize, but he said I asked for it. I was 7 or 8 when the abuse started. I didn’t ask for that.”

Stephanie was 11 the first time she chose to have sex. The partner was 30 years old. 

“I thought having sex was normal, like going out to eat.”

The school put Stephanie in counseling because they said she was bad and acting out. Her stepdad kicked her out, and she lived in an abandoned house. Some days she went to school, even if she had to walk hours to get there. She dropped out in the twelfth grade. 

“I loved reading and went to the library all of the time,” she said. “The librarian there saw the good in me. It was the one happy place in my life and became my home.”

Stepanie was incarcerated for eight months for stealing with her boyfriend.

“Being in jail was rough. There is no privacy, and they made us take out tampons or pads and pull them apart to make sure we weren’t hiding something there,” she said. “But the older ladies I was incarcerated with listened to the stories I made up from my dreams and encouraged me to write them down. I want to turn my life around and be a writer.”

After the stories ended, Armbruster said he had a whole room of new heroes. He wished more people could hear these stories and see people differently, so he started the Ransom Experience podcast to share them.

“What you did is what you did, not who you are,” he said. “Drug addiction, homelessness and incarceration have no boundaries. My addiction was me, and sometimes that's the worst addiction because you can't get away from yourself. After hearing what you went through, I don’t think I could have made it.”

There was relief when telling stories was over. Some felt freer, others wished they had told more. They felt closer from hearing what others in the class had been through. Several said, “I’m glad to know it’s not just me.”

“This is my rebirth,” Chrisshun said. “I am thankful for another chance.”

But second chances sometimes aren’t enough. Early in the program, some missed class with no excuse or they tested positive for drugs. One started the program for the second time and was kicked out after the first week for failing a drug test. Armbruster got him into rehab with a longer-term program. 

“He wasn’t honest with himself,” Armbruster said. “He has more of an addiction than he thinks. He was smoking crack and blamed it on everyone else. You also have to deal with things other than addiction. I think there are mental health issues here. I'll follow up with him. The door is open if he wants to try again.”

There is a plate-smashing ceremony to break through fears, doubts and false beliefs, and an art class for making stained glass windows to show how light brings beauty into the cracks and broken places. 

That’s followed by the rearview class, taught by motivational leader John Pack. He’s a pilot for Southwest Airlines and flies out of Houston but has volunteered with Armbruster since Ransom Café started at his church. Pack teaches a ReProgram class once a week. He also helped create the ReProgram curriculum.  

“The rearview mirror is smaller than the windshield,” Pack said. “The front windshield is big because the opportunities out there are big. It’s time to look toward the future. Who do you want to be?”

Pack described the rearview class as the turning point in the program. It’s a time to set goals and take the roadblocks down. 

One of the biggest roadblocks is trust. Caleb was one of the hardest workers in the class but didn’t want to trust people. 

“I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, and people broke it, so I burned a heart on my hand to remind myself not to trust people so easily,” he said. “People who put on an act always let you down.”

Armbruster said he understands where Caleb was coming from but said that a life without trust stops one from growing. 

“We do a lot of things because we don't trust,” he said.  “We don't trust that we're ever going to get what we need. We don't trust that God has our best interests. But we are going to have to trust each other to work together.”

Armbruster tells each participant that he trusts them until they give him a reason not to. 

“These guys are scared to make a mistake because mistakes have destroyed their lives,” he said. “After I was hurt playing football, I was not the same player. I was always fearful that I would get hurt again. When you're fearful like that, that’s when you get hurt.”

There are days with more disappointments than successes, even from some who come so far. If participants quit the program, a job or go back to their old ways, Armbruster learned he can't take the setbacks personally because it has nothing to do with him. It has to do with their choices and some things he may never know. Some tell him they want drugs so bad they can taste it, but being at Ransom that day kept them from relapsing.

Armbruster said thinking about the future is difficult for some because they can’t think past surviving today. 

“A guy described trying to raise himself out of poverty is like telling a blind man to read,” Armbruster said. “A blind guy can't read until you give him the tools to do it. We can't just say get a job and quit spending money. They aren't going to get it or understand. Someone has to walk them through it.”  

No one changes overnight, Armbruster said. “They are going to make mistakes and do stupid things, and we have to be okay with that or we’re going to hurt them. We have to be here for the long term.

“Jesus dealt with everybody, rich and poor,” he said. “God is using Ransom to change people's lives. Not just the participants but mine and the volunteers. Real-life miracles happen here every day, raising us from the painful past to better lives.”

(This story originally ran in Lagniappe November 2021)