Two years ago I encountered Jesus in a way that rocked my world.

I remember it vividly. I work as an actor, so I was just coming out of an audition when my friend called me.

She called me out of the blue. And for reference: this was someone I smoked weed with. We went out clubbing together. We lived a very worldly lifestyle. So she calls me, and for an hour she tells me what Jesus is doing in her life.

Keep in mind, I was not a Christian at the time. So I'm thinking, you are the last person I'd expect to call me and tell me about Jesus. Are you high? What is going on?

But there was so much truth in what she was saying. When you know, you know. And I knew.

I literally watched her life transform. I did not recognize her from when she was living without Jesus. She was a new creation — the Bible talks about that, but to see it in real life is insane. There was a joy behind her eyes you cannot miss. There was a purpose in her. A completely different person.

So I wanted that for myself.

I Wasn't at a Low

I hear a lot of people say they encountered Christ at their lowest. That wasn't me. I was doing okay. I was living in vanity and selfish ambition, and when I felt emptiness, I'd just cover it with nicotine, weed, whatever dopamine rush.

And it was working. But the moment I unplugged those unhealthy habits, I had to deal with that emptiness head on.

Which was complicated because I wanted nothing to do with the one thing that could have helped. I come from a Christian family, and there was so much hypocrisy in the church and in the Christian school I went to. I did not want anything to do with it. Literally nothing. To me, the Bible wasn't love — it was restriction and religion and rules. I wanted to be a free spirit and do my own thing.

After that phone call, I cried out to Him anyway. God — Jesus — if You are real, whatever You did in her life, please do that in mine. Let me know what to do.

I was still living in so much sin, but I started trying to talk to God. When you first hear people say they talk to God, you're like, what? God, we talk? That makes no sense. But I just tried.

I'd been staying up until 2am and waking up at noon, and somehow my sleep schedule changed. I started waking up early. I'd light a candle and just sit. Kind of like meditation. Breathe, recollect my thoughts, phone put away.

I'd try to read the Bible and it didn't make sense. Too much, too confusing, too overwhelming. But I had this devotional called Jesus Calling. I'd read one page a day, and it was so bizarre to me: the page I read was genuinely, exactly what I was going through in my heart. It had one verse and a breakdown of the verse, and for that season, that was my Bible.

Here's the part that still gets me. I'd been working at Costco during college, and that's where the book came from. Before I got fired, I took it home, and I don't know why. It makes no sense. I honestly don't remember doing it.

God was preparing all my steps and I had no idea what was happening. I moved back home. I switched schools. I ended up with this book. It was insane.

The Woman at the Store

When my dad was out of town, my younger brother and I would pick up food, eat healthy, read, work out. There was this place I'd go to get food, and the woman who worked there was a Christian.

I'd come in talking about smoking weed, sleeping around, all of it — and she wouldn't condemn me. She was gentle. She'd say, Alex, what about this scripture? Are you trying to read scripture? How can I help you? She poured so much love into me. She'd pray over me because I had told her I was on this journey with Jesus.

And it made me upset. For all the reasons I've already said — the hypocrisy, the rules, the whole thing I'd spent years walking away from. So she'd say these things, and so would the other friend who called me, and I was angry.

I was not ready to give up my addictions. I thought I would take those to my grave. I thought I'd smoke weed until I was dead, because that's how I coped with anxiety. That's how I numbed the emptiness, so I was angry to think about those not being in my life.

The Rotten Onion

Releasing those worldly chains took months.

You can look at it like a rotten onion. God kept peeling off the rotten strips, layer by layer, until I was down to my core. He was patient about it. He was spoon-feeding me. He never demanded I show up cleaned up first.

That's what I kept hearing from Him. I want to talk to you so badly. I love you, Alex. When you rejected Me, I was still here.

So I ran back into His arms and brought Him all my addictions. Everything. All the false things I'd believed my whole life. I brought Him everything, and He let me sit with it, and talk with Him, and spend time with Him.

And then the peeling started.

I knew I had to stop hanging out with all my friends. Every last one of them — high school, college, everyone. They were all so worldly, and I knew if I kept hanging out with them I'd be just like them. That's all I knew. I'd always been a popular kid, so being lonely was not something I was used to. I'd say I was a popular loner. I always did my own thing and no one really knew, but I still had so many friends, everyone texting me. There was just a shallow level to it.

I had to leave Snapchat, too, which was my thing — the stories, the private story, it was so fun for me. But I knew what was going on there was not beneficial for me.

And I was so lonely. I was so lonely. I just had to spend time with God, and it was so uncomfortable.

It took about three months before scripture really started convicting me. I was reading 2 Timothy, and the words came off the page and pierced my heart. Everything those loving friends had been telling me finally made sense. And I realized the devil had been telling me that scripture doesn't apply to today's times. That is the biggest lie ever. The Bible is timeless.

So I just started weeping. And I knew: I have to get to the core. The rotten pieces can't come back. They need to go, and they need to go today. And I can't do it. I need to rely on God.

That was horrifying.

But that's when He said, okay Alex, now we're growing together. You need to release these things so I can put new layers on your onion.

And then He started putting new fruit in me. I had this joy. Ask anyone in my family — they'd be like, what are you taking? Are you okay? I'd walk around going, hey guys, how can I serve you? Can I do the dishes? You could've looked at me as a troubled teen, and then it was like a snap. Obviously it was over time. But what happened to the friend who called me was now happening to me in real time. My brother, my dad, everyone around me noticed. They all knew what was happening.

If I could talk to my 18-year-old self right now, that would be insane. We'd be two completely different people who look exactly the same. I am a new creation in Jesus.

I Needed People

So I started praying for Christian community. I was trying to read my Bible, I didn't have a church, I didn't know what else to do. I had this intimacy with God, but I needed community. We are not made to be alone.

A friend invited me to their church, and it was great. I was learning the word of God, but everyone there was significantly older. I needed friends who loved Jesus, or who could at least accept me for loving Jesus. Because a lot of people will say, yeah, we just want freedom, we don't want religion — and then they won't accept you if you actually love Jesus.

So I kept praying: God, send me community. Send me community.

And it came in the craziest way. My dad's friend from Egypt came into town and went to church with my dad, and my dad told me, Alex, you have to check out this church. I said, no, I have my church, I'm good. He said, no, no, no, you have to come. Okay.

That place quickly became my church in Houston, and that's where I met so many Christian brothers and sisters.

I'll never forget the first time one of them invited me to his house. It was just dinner or something, and I knew there'd be people there, so I brought my non-alcoholic wine. I was ready.

I was not prepared for what I saw. There were kids running around barefoot. People playing guitar, everyone playing worship music, someone cooking for the whole room. That was the first time in my life I'd been invited to someone's house that wasn't to smoke weed or go to a party or do something else. That was the first time that community felt pure.

I was in shock. I was holding back tears. We just had fellowship. I got to meet people, tell them my story, and they were so happy I was there. When I left, the first thing I did was pull out my phone and start vlogging, because I love documenting my life. I was just going, Lord — what just happened?

What shocked me was the community itself. I'd had this joy alone in my house, by myself. To share it with other Christians — people I didn't have to dress a certain way or talk a certain way around — that was new. I'm so used to my worth being in my accomplishments. I just did this campaign, I just did this movie. No one there even knew I was an actor. I didn't know what any of them did for work. It was just connection and a love for Jesus that bonded us together. Those people became a key part of my life for about a year.

A friend shared an analogy with me that was mind-boggling. When you get into a relationship, there's that early lovey-dovey love — everything is so sweet. We think of our relationship with God as that. But after a while it can get rocky. Sometimes you don't hear God's voice. There are seasons of desolation where you're asking, what am I doing wrong? And it's so important to keep going in that. Because that's when God is looking down and saying, Alex, you might not hear My voice, you might not understand the scripture you're reading right now, you might just be in a hard season — but I see you chasing Me. And I'm here.

Leaving the Good Thing

Texas was amazing. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to leave. I'd always wanted to move to Los Angeles to be famous and do this and that, but I was finally at peace in Texas. I had my acting classes, a great agent, great auditions, great work. My house church was everything to me. I'd prayed for months and Jesus blessed me with it.

And my brother and I were in a great relationship. I come from a really messed up house — a bad divorce, my family split in half — and Jesus was healing that while He was healing me. I was kinder to my brother, and I hadn't been the kindest before I met Jesus. I was so selfish. There was this healing between us that was so special.

That's when God spoke to me and said: you need to move to Los Angeles. Now.

I was weeping. Literally weeping. I called my dad and said, Dad, I'm going to have to leave. And my dad is so logical — no, no, no. Money. There's no work in LA. But this was a calling. I didn't need anyone's approval and I didn't need anyone's advice. God instructed me to come here, and regardless of the discouragement or the doubt people fed me — not ill-intentioned, just looking out for me — I knew none of it mattered. I had to come.

Four Days

I came out on a 30-day sublet. I didn't know I was moving here forever. I was basically saying, listen, I don't really have money like that. I'm going to come and see if this is true. If God really wants me here, I'm not going to sink.

I was horrified, honestly. The discouragement I got, especially from Christians in Texas, was you're going to Satan's territory. You're going to burn. I got all this crazy stuff, but it was not true.

I landed on a Saturday. A friend I'd never met in person — we'd worked on the same movie but never on the same days — invited me to church the next morning. So not even twelve hours after I landed, I was in a pew in Malibu. He introduced me to people, and I started getting invited to prayer groups.

My community in Houston was praying over me so hard. My two asks were Christian community and Christian housemates. Because I gave my life to Jesus two years ago, I'm still so susceptible to sin, I'm only human, and there's so much temptation in LA. I was afraid I'd fall under it.

Prayer night was that Thursday. So four days after I landed, I'm sitting there casually mentioning that my sublet is about to end and I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know I need to stay. And a guy said, wait — we're in the same boat. We'd love to live with you. Come meet my friend. Now four of us live in a house together.

That night was so special. I remember bawling afterward. I'd been so afraid I wouldn't find what I had in Houston, but I almost felt like this was better. These people understood me. Nobody in Texas really understood the calling to film; there aren't a lot of actors there. Here, I just felt like a normal person. And it wasn't even about the industry. Everyone laid hands on me and welcomed me to LA. I'd shown up as a stranger in unfamiliar terrain, and after that day I thought: this is my family. I'm home. LA feels more like home than Texas to me now. It's crazy.

I can't comprehend how fast God put community in my life here. Maybe because He knew I'd need it — I was not ready to be in LA by myself. He didn't even make me wait a day.

And He hasn't left me stranded since. I got work. I got an agent — I'd been pushing for an LA agent for months and no one would pick up the phone, and then I got one of the best agents I could ask for. The movie I just did. People tell me, Alex, you're so blessed, and it's hard for me to comprehend, but I fully believe it. Logistically it doesn't make sense — how I got these random jobs, how I got this agent, this house, this church, these friends. The list goes on.

And I don't deserve any of it. If I could say one word to Jesus, I'd just say thank you.

Faith and Hope

The friend who called me two years ago, we still talk all the time. She knows the impact that her life change had on mine. And she didn't only change my life; she's changing the life of everyone willing to receive the story.

Because it takes faith. I don't see a picture of God, but I see what He's done in my life, and what He's done in other people's lives. How He made the sky, how He made the mountains, how His holy scripture speaks to me — I can read the same chapter in different years of my life and it says something different each time. It's the living word.

When I try to tell people about Jesus, sometimes they're so logical, so statistical, so number-oriented, and they say they'd need to see God face to face to believe in Him. But where would the love be if God had to show His face to every single person? There's so much more love in Him knowing we're having faith and hope in what He's already done — that He is real, that He loves us, that He knows us by name, that we're made in His image. That leap of faith brings a greater joy than a logistical report proving God exists.

Looking Back

If I could go back and talk to myself before I knew Jesus —

I know exactly what I'd say. Alex — nothing you seek will give you fulfillment. Your heart will be empty, and nothing can heal your heart except Jesus. I know you've heard about Jesus from school and from your parents. But you don't know Jesus. Just try to talk to Him. See what He can do. Have an open heart and let the magic happen.

And to anyone still filling that void with everything else —

I'd say the same thing I'd say to 18-year-old Alex, because that kid was a true seeker. He wasn't stubborn for no reason — that's just how he knew to protect himself. Who doesn't want the joy and the freedom and the love that comes with knowing Jesus? Everyone wants it. Some people just convince themselves they don't need it, that they can do it on their own. That's a lie.

It's hard to say the same thing to everyone. Say there's a guy who's an atheist because something horrible happened to his mother, who was a Jesus-loving woman. That line might mean nothing to him. So what I'd say to him is: let God speak to you.

You have to spend time alone with Him to hear it. If you're always on your phone, always watching TV, always reading even self-help books — just spend time with God by yourself and try. He'll see that, and He will speak.