A Tale of Crime, Chips, and Grace: Imagine entrusting your life to someone you’d once arrested—someone who had, in fact, snatched your police baton right out of your hands in a fish and chip shop. A ridiculous scenario, isn’t it? But life, I've learned, has a funny way of getting your attention.Back in 1994, I was fresh into my policing career, and Gram Seed—a six-foot-seven tower of trouble—was less “gentle giant” and more “walking public nuisance.” After a brief but memorable encounter over salt, vinegar, and an unlawfully commandeered baton, I sent Gram off to prison for theft and public disorder. Fast forward a few months, and Gram reappeared—a changed man, he claimed. Something about meeting Jesus and coming back from the brink of death through prayer. Naturally, I was skeptical. But life moved on, and Gram and I didn’t cross paths again for a decade. Not until I had what you might call a supernatural nudge that led me to church.Walking into Tees Valley Community Church for the first time, I half expected to go under the radar. What I saw instead was Gram, arms lifted skyward, singing his heart out. The man who once made police work a bit too eventful now had two cherubic boys darting around his feet and a wife radiating calm beside him.I leaned over to someone else I knew, my friend Keith. “So, has Gram really stopped committing crime?”Keith raised an eyebrow. “Far as I know, he’s got a prison ministry now. Helping others leave crime behind.”Naturally, I wasn’t fully convinced. But I kept coming back—partly intrigued, partly to make sense of this new Gram. The sermons struck an unexpected chord. There was warmth, too—a kind of welcoming sincerity I wasn’t used to in my line of work. Usually, people only call the police when something’s gone wrong. But these people seemed genuinely pleased to see me, not because they needed to report a break-in but simply because I was there.Six months in, after wrestling with truths I couldn’t deny, I finally stepped forward when the pastor asked if anyone wanted to trust Jesus. A kind older gentleman, Ernie Ruddick, led me in a simple prayer of repentance—a fancy word for turning away from the old and stepping into wisdom. Or, as the Greeks call it, metanoia.Then came the baptisms. And guess who was scheduled to perform them? Yes, Gram Seed, former arrestee, current model citizen, and now a man of faith. I wasn’t sure how that conversation would go. “Fancy baptising the guy who sent you to prison?” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.But Gram, to my surprise, was overjoyed. “A privilege,” he called it. And here’s the twist—I reckon the privilege was all mine.Since then, Gram and I have driven miles together, visiting prisons, churches and even an aquarium! To watch lives change before our eyes. He has this uncanny knack for knowing exactly how many people need to step forward, and every time, they do. And yes, our road trip jokes are so bad they’d make Tim Vine wince.What began in a chip shop became one of my life’s greatest treasures—a living reminder of Romans 8:28: “God works all things for the good of those who love Him.” Even the toughest moments can become growth opportunities when viewed through a different lens.So here I am, sharing my story through Turn2Wisdom. My hope? That you, fellow traveller, find the courage to seek wisdom, step into your purpose, and discover peace beyond measure. Life is full of surprises—even the kind that start with a stolen baton and a fish supper. Shall we journey together?