Former addict now leads church group in Lakewood Ranch

Bradenton's Justin Halas rushed forward from his pulpit, looked into the eyes of 30 people at Harvest United Methodist Church in Lakewood Ranch and delivered another stirring message.

"I want you to be able to say, 'I'm a victor, not a victim," he said firmly, pointing to his listeners as if they were one.

A rousing "Amen!" was unleashed from the crowd. 

Halas, who was just starting to get into his groove, was making a difference in people's lives on a Friday night by leading the "High on Jesus" group.

It used to be Halas, who is 33, would have a much different affect on the lives of others.

Following his session at the church, Halas talked about his nightmarish past, and his hope for a productive future.

While he doesn't like to dwell on his misgivings, he knows it is important for people to understand his unlikely path to redemption, and just how low he sank. If he could realize hope by embracing his faith, perhaps anyone could share that opportunity.

If they could understand how he scaled the mountain, perhaps they could begin to climb.

"I was robbing and stealing from anyone in my path," he said, his face showing the pain of bad memories. "During my last run on the streets, I was homeless and in and out of trap hotels. That's what we called hotels where we went to buy and use drugs.

"You finally get to the point where the misery won't go away. I was living misery 24-7, 365. When the needle stops working for you, taking you to another place, that's a sad day. Heroin, it had stopped being fun a long time before. And then when it's not doing anything for you ..."

His voice trailed off.

In May of 2013, Halas was dodging Manatee County Sheriff's Office deputies for two months as they had a warrant for his arrest. He tired of the chase, and of knowing he was wasting his life. He did three bags of heroin, felt virtually nothing, and decided to turn himself in.

After 75 days in jail, he started the same steps he had taken before in the past to get straight. He had been fighting the battle since he was 14, when he was smoking weed and drinking every day.

"I failed 1,000 times with the seed God had tried to plant," he said.

This time was different. Why? Halas said he loves the question, which is asked often as he attempts to help others who have fallen into substance abuse. He said he had received the gift of desperation. That was the day his life changed. He said he finally opened himself up to his faith.

He had plenty of chances previously. His mother, Maureen Halas, attended Harvest United Methodist in Lakewood Ranch and she tried to get her son involved. He said he knew there was something to God, but he couldn't figure it out.

At Harvest, he met Pastor Steve Price, who left Halas with an open-door invitation. Price gave him his number and told him to call anytime when he was ready to talk.

He went through his substance abuse meetings and entered other church programs, struggling again even though he was sober. At one point, he said he was mentally worse than when he was using. He wondered how he could drown in the "red sea" of life after trying so hard to reform. 

Eventually, he made the call to Price with an idea. He could beat his past if he could make a future of helping others. He started "High on Jesus" sessions at his home, using his Facebook account to attract others who were struggling. He drew six and eight and then 10 people. He started hoping to take "High on Jesus" to Harvest Methodist in Lakewood Ranch.

Price decided he would check out Halas to see if he was serious. He attended his home gatherings and was convinced. Last January, "High on Jesus" made its debut at Harvest.

"I know where I am going in life," Halas said. "I am going to be successful. Now I have a program where I can reach people. God laid this on my heart."

After 19 years at Harvest, Price moved away, but the church kept Halas and his program.

"With everyone who is excited about starting something new, it's important to have conversations with them and to build relationships," said Harvest Pastor Jennifer Potter Buff. "But Justin impressed me with his honesty and his willingness to tell it like it is. I know when he is having rough times, what he is willing to do. He has set up guardrails in his life. He is committed to sobriety."

Perhaps his biggest guardrail is his wife, Bonnie Irelan. They have three children, Jaeden Halas, 11; Lily Irelan, 9; and Laylah Halas, 2.

Irelan was alongside Halas when they were using, and they got healthy together.

"You can't have a serious relationship when you use the way I did," he said. "And, later, we were friends and I didn't want to ruin it."

But they supported each other as they struggled toward sobriety, and they understand the past.

"I had made a mental checklist of what I wanted, and she fit every one," Halas said.

Now they lead the recovery ministry together, Halas breaking off with a men's group and Irelan speaking with the women. It is open to anyone, whether or not they have suffered through substance abuse.

"They run a recovery ministry, which is kind of churchy speak," Potter Buff said. "It is a group that offers accountability for people who are struggling with life. It's a place of honesty and vulnerability. Justin offers a message that tends to be inspirational. This ministry is worth doing, even if it might not translate into Sunday mornings."

Halas hopes it eventually will lead to Sunday mornings of worship for those in his class. It wasn't that long ago he was getting "annihilated" every Friday night. Others have chosen to work on their own problems on Fridays as well.

He tells them, "When you focus on mistakes, it turns into self-pity. That's a playground none of us want to be playing on."

He offered the capper at his Friday meeting, taking a deep breath, joy in his eyes of a man once hopelessly lost.

"Phillippians, 3:14," he said. "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me."

Everyone was shaking their head affirmatively. Amen!. Halas smiled.

"Is it worth it?" he asked rhetorically. "More than you ever could dream."