
Confirmation Content
Lee doesn’t hide his past.
“I’ve done some horrendous things,” Lee says.
Forged in the fires of gang life, Lee admits there is no way of hiding his past. He knows exactly who he was. But most importantly he knows how far God has brought him, as he states:
“I am the fruit of having God’s Word in a gaol cell.”
Early Life
Lee didn’t grow up with faith — it wasn’t something his family talked about. After all, life felt easy, and he saw no reason to search for God. What was clear from a young age was his talent. As a teenager, Lee excelled in sport — so much so that he found himself choosing between elite-level cricket and a potential AFL career.
From the outside, life looked promising. Inside, it started to feel hollow.
“If I went out and didn’t perform, I felt empty,” Lee says. “I was feeling down and depressed… and I started to think there had to be more to life.”
That question led him to faith. At 18, Lee became a Christian. He went on to study at Bible college for four years, desperate to know God more deeply. But life didn’t unfold the way he expected. Hurt, grief, and deep disappointment — including the loss of his father — collided with struggles inside the church. Eventually, Lee walked away from his faith… and from his marriage.
What followed was a downward spiral.
Anger mixed with pain. Pain mixed with violence. Lee entered a world of nightclubs, drugs, and crime — and eventually bikie gangs. He rose through the ranks to become Sergeant-at-Arms for the Bandidos in Melbourne. It was a life fuelled by fear, reputation, and survival. Firearms. Drug dealing. Contracts on his life. Prison became a familiar part of the story.
Lee drifted into this life. Now he was trapped.
A New Creation
By 2019, Lee was back behind bars — his mind filled with the deafening roar of anger, pain, and fear.
Alone in his prison cell, Lee began watching Christian television. One night, while watching one of the pastors, something cut through the noise. Lee slid off his bed and onto the concrete floor of his cell and prayed a prayer born from exhaustion rather than eloquence:
“God, I’m done with this lifestyle.” In that moment, Lee says God spoke clearly to his heart:
“Leave your junk on the floor.”
So he did.
Physically, deliberately, Lee mimed placing everything down — the anger, the violence, the fear, the identity he had built. When he stood up, a verse flooded his mind, one he knew well but had never lived:
“Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation.” (2 Corinthians 5:17 ERV)
That change didn’t go unnoticed. In prison, reputation matters — and so does consistency. At first, people were sceptical. Some thought Lee was putting it on to get a lighter sentence. But years passed. Temptations came — and went. Lee held firm. Guards noticed. Prisoners noticed. Even his solicitor later said, “I don’t know what happened… but something definitely happened.”
“People still think I put it on,” Lee says.
“But over the years, they’ve seen it — and it’s been undeniable.”
Desperate for Hope
Inside prison, Lee also became acutely aware of something else: the hunger for God’s Word.
There simply weren’t enough Bibles.
People would come to him and ask, “Can we read your Bible?” Some struggled to read, others couldn’t read at all, so they would sit together while someone read Scripture aloud — listening carefully, holding onto the words.
“When you’re in jail, your mind just runs wild,” Lee says.
“You’ve got a lot of time to think.”
Behind bars, God’s Word is felt deeply.
“There’s nothing better you can give a person than the Word of God,” Lee says.
“That’s how important it is.”
Unlike the outside world — full of noise, entertainment, and distraction — prison strips life back to the essentials. And in that environment, Lee saw again and again how deeply people were searching for meaning, forgiveness, and a fresh start.
“They’re looking for answers,” he says.
“And that’s why the Bible’s important.”
Today, Lee’s life looks radically different. But the lessons he learned behind bars remain close to his heart — especially the knowledge that access to God’s Word inside prisons is limited, fragile, and desperately needed.
“There wasn’t enough Bibles to go around,” Lee says.
When freedom is taken away, when identity collapses, when the past won’t stay buried — a Bible can become a lifeline. A place to encounter truth. A place to find true freedom in Christ. Lee knows this not as a theory, but as lived reality.
“I am the fruit of your giving,” Lee says simply.
“Broken people in prison need hope. And the Word of God gives it.”
Behind prison walls across Australia, the hunger for hope has not faded. Since 2022, the prison population has grown by more than 6,500 people. You can give them hope and transform their lives through God’s Word - for just $20.
Confirmation Content