Have you ever had one of those moments where your life feels like it could only happen in a movie? Like, if someone pitched it to Netflix, they’d go, “Nah, too unbelievable — even for us.”
Yeah, that’s basically my life.
Let me ask you this — have you ever loved someone so much that you’d drive hours every weekend just to sit across face to face at a cold table ? Have you ever sat across from your husband in a visitation room thinking, “How is this my love story?” Because that’s me, every weekend.
Except for one weekend a month — that’s when his parents visit, and I get to rest from prison vending machine cuisine. Those weekends off? My version of self-care.
Stephen recently got transferred to a new prison, and hallelujah, it’s closer to L.A. — which means I don’t have to drive through half the state just to hold his hand for few hours. He was in Monterey County for almost a year, but his health started declining, so they moved him. He’s had a rough year — a stroke last December, heart disease, kidney disease, and just last month his kidney function dropped to 28%. That’s stage 4 kidney failure — the “start planning for dialysis” stage.
Now here’s the good news — he loves the new place. He says the food’s better, the people are nicer, and the medical staff actually act like they’ve met a doctor before. And selfishly, it’s a huge blessing for me and his parents because the drive is so much shorter. Praise Jesus and Google Maps!
The even better news? His health has started improving. The doctors are saying his kidneys are functioning better, he’s losing weight, and get this — he doesn’t have diabetes anymore! Y’all, I don’t know what kind of keto miracle is happening in that prison, but my man is coming out hotter than when he went in. He just needs to lose eight more pounds and he’ll officially be out of the “obese” category. I told him, “See? Prison’s not all bad — you’re getting a glow-up and free meals!”
But here’s the thing about prison — every time he moves to a new yard, it’s nerve-wracking. You don’t know who you’re going to meet, and not everyone is exactly… gentle. And let’s be real, Stephen is not your typical inmate. He’s this nerdy, a guy with glasses, a belly, and zero fighting skills. If a fight broke out, his best move would be to hide behind the Bible or pretend to faint.
So he gets to his new yard, trying to keep to himself, when one of the porters (that’s prison talk for the guy who helps new inmates settle in) notices a photo Stephen brought with him. The porter takes one look and says, “Wow, lucky you — you took a picture with Christy Love! She’s my favorite pornstar!”
Stephen freezes. He doesn’t know if this guy is dangerous or just… loyal. So he plays it cool, like, “Oh yeah, I met her.”
The porter keeps going on, talking about how much he watches Christy Love, how he has allher videos downloaded on his tablet, and how even his cousin is a fan. He’s basically listing my IMDb page. At this point, Stephen’s probably thinking, “Do I tell him the truth or just let him keep fanboying?”
Eventually, he feels like the guy’s not a threat — just a dedicated follower of my work. So Stephen smiles and says, “Actually, I know Christy Love very well.”
The guy laughs, like, “Sure, bro. Everyone says that.”
Then Stephen holds out his prison ID card and goes, “Do you know her real name?”
The guy proudly yells, “Of course! Angela Dela Cruz!”
Stephen smirks and says, “Then you probably know mine.”
The porter reads the name: Stephen Dela Cruz.
Silence. Then — BOOM. Mind blown. The guy’s face lights up like it’s Christmas in Cell Block C. “Bro, you’re her husband?!? Can I get an autograph?!”
By the end of the conversation, this man who could’ve been a potential threat is now doing Stephen’s laundry. He’s like the president of the Christy Love Fan Club: Inmate Division.
And just like that, my fame became my husband’s protection plan. While other men are trying to watch their backs, Stephen’s out here being treated like royalty. Forget gang affiliations — he’s got fan affiliations.
Honestly, I couldn’t stop laughing when he told me this story. Like, of all the ways God could’ve protected him, He chose this one. I mean, you can’t make this stuff up. My career in adult entertainment somehow turned into divine prison favor. Who knew my greatest ministry would be through Wi-Fi tablets and male inmates?
And before you clutch your pearls — yes, I see the humor, and yes, I see the irony. Because isn’t it just like God to take something the world tries to shame you for and flip it into something that saves the people you love?
I cried when Stephen first told me he was scared to move yards. Now I cry from laughing at the fact that the same men who might’ve tried to mess with him are now folding his underwear like, “Mr. Dela Cruz, sir, your wife’s latest blog was fire.”
It’s crazy, isn’t it? How life can be both tragic and hilarious all at once. One minute you’re worried sick about your husband’s health, the next minute you’re thanking Jesus for fanboys in prison.
That’s the emotional rollercoaster of my life — faith, fear, comedy, chaos, and a little bit of holy irony.
Now here’s where it gets hilarious — and holy.
The porter starts telling everyone, and soon enough, it spreads like prison wildfire. Word gets around that Christy Love’s husband is in the building.
One day, as the porter’s bragging, this one Black guy who’s Muslim overhears and goes, “Who’s Christy Love?”
Before Stephen can answer, his friend jumps in like he’s offended. “You don’t know Christy Love?! Bro, she’s the pastor-pornstar! And her husband — this guy — he’s a pastor too!”
Now three Muslim guys are standing there, totally intrigued. They look at Stephen and say, “Wait, you’re a pastor?”
Stephen says, “Yeah.”
One of them goes, “Well, I’m Muslim, but I’d be down to hear about your Jesus. I’m not trying to be baptized or nothing, but I’ll listen.”
Stephen laughs and says, “Alright, how about a Bible study one of these days?”
And they agree.
Who would’ve thought — out of all the places, all the people — that a group of Muslim inmates would want to hear about Jesus because of a pornstar preacher’s wife?
Like, what?! You can’t make this up.
When he told me this story, I laughed so hard I nearly cried. Because of course — of coursethat’s how God would work in my life. The same career that most people think would disqualify me from ministry became the reason people behind bars are hearing about Jesus.
That’s the kind of God I serve. He’s not limited by people’s opinions or religious boxes. He’ll use a pornstar, a prison, and a pastor’s love story to reach people who’d never step foot in a church.
Stephen said those guys were respectful, curious, and real. They didn’t want judgment — they wanted truth. And because he’s my husband, and because of who I am, they were willing to listen.
So yeah, maybe I’m not your typical pastor’s wife. I don’t bake casseroles or host women’s prayer brunches. My life looks more like The Real Housewives of Redemption, but somehow, God keeps turning my mess into ministry.
And honestly, I love that. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that God doesn’t need perfect people — He just needs willing ones.
You might think your story disqualifies you, but it’s probably the very thing someone else needs to hear.
Who would’ve thought that my husband, sitting in prison, would start a Bible study because his wife is on Pornhub? Yet here we are — God using every twist, every turn, every headline for His glory.
So, the next time someone tries to tell you God can’t use you because of your mess, just smile and say, “Honey, He used a pornstar to start a prison revival.”
Remember you are my lovers, whether you love me or love to hate me, you are still my lover!
Don’t forget Jesus loves you and so do I! ❤️