Jackson TerKeurst is a speaker, an author, an entrepreneur and a conversation starter who is passionate about drawing together people from diverse backgrounds to experience authentic community. A first-generation immigrant from West Africa, Jackson was adopted by bestselling author and speaker Lysa TerKeurst, and his story has been featured on the Oprah Winfrey Network and The Today Show. He has recently written a memoir: The Only Way Forward is Back: A Story of War, Adoption, and Finding Your Purpose in God’s Plan. Jackson lives with his wife and their two children outside Nashville, Tennessee.

In this interview, Jackson opens up about the trauma he faced at an early age and the redemption that God has woven into his story. He shares how the spiritual practice of lament is grounding him lately and how he battles the feeling of not being enough from a place of victory. Continue reading to hear about the most meaningful meal he’s ever shared as well as how he believes what’s stirring inside of him right now is “the start of a movement.”

QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

The meals we enjoy are about so much more than the food we eat. So, how does a “go-to” meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind your web bio?

There’s this one meal I’ll never forget — warm rice with a spoonful of red palm oil and a pinch of salt. That’s it. No meat, no vegetables — just that. I was probably around eight years old, sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor of an orphanage in Liberia with a handful of boys I had come to see as brothers. It was sometime in the early 2000s during the Liberian Civil War. Our country was in chaos, food was scarce and survival was the only thing on most people’s minds.

But somehow that bowl of rice felt like more than food. We didn’t have much — sometimes we didn’t eat for days — but when we did, we shared every grain. I remember looking at the faces of the boys around me. Some had lost parents, others had watched their homes burn to the ground. Yet in that moment, we laughed. We made jokes. We held each other up. That meal, in its simplicity, became a symbol of togetherness, resilience and hope.

Why does it still matter to me now, years later, as a grown man and father? Because that rice taught me something: joy is not found in abundance — it’s found in presence. I learned that the people around the table matter more than what’s on it.

Today, when I sit at the dinner table with my wife and my twins — Legend and Londyn — I don’t just see food. I see legacy. I see answered prayers. I see the boy I once was and the father I now get to be. Every meal we share is a quiet reminder that God redeems stories, that brokenness can birth beauty and that even a bowl of rice can become sacred when shared in love.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So, what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activity do you love engaging in that also helps you find essential spiritual renewal?

One of my quirkiest outlets — and I’m not even ashamed to say it — is sitting in a sauna — like, religiously. Four, sometimes five times a week. Just me, the heat, and complete silence — no music, no distractions. Just sweat and stillness. Most people might see that as just a wellness trend or something physical — detox, recovery, whatever. But for me, it’s sacred. It’s where I decompress from the weight of my story — from being a father, a husband, a provider and a man carrying both past trauma and present purpose. In the sauna, I don’t have to perform. I don’t have to have the right words or fix anything. I can just be.

Somewhere in that dry heat, God meets me. Not in a loud, dramatic way — but in a whisper. A breath. A moment of clarity. I leave lighter. Not just physically, but spiritually. And I think that’s what makes it holy for me — it’s the one place where I give myself permission to be still and know that he is God.

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness; every human, too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re all broken and in this thing together. So, what’s your kryptonite and how do you confront its power head-on?

If I’m honest, my kryptonite is the feeling of not being enough.

When you grow up the way I did — in a war-torn country, in and out of orphanages, fighting to survive — you learn to adapt. You learn to perform. You learn to hustle just to prove that you belong. But underneath all that strength? There’s a little boy still wondering if he’s truly seen, if he’s truly worthy of love without earning it. Even after being adopted, even after coming to America, I carried that question deep in my soul: Would I still be loved if I stopped performing?

How do I confront it? First, I name it. I stop pretending I’ve got it all together. I remind myself that being a son of God isn’t something I can earn — it’s something I receive. Daily. Then I lean into the people who love me not for what I do, but for who I am. My wife. My twins. My brothers in Christ. They remind me that I don’t have to carry the world — just be faithful in my lane.

I still wrestle with it. But these days, I fight from victory, not for it. And every time I show up imperfect and loved anyway, that lie loses its power a little more.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your current obsession? And why should it be ours?

Right now, my entire life is anchored in one word: redemption. Professionally, I’m pouring everything I have into launching my memoir, “The Only Way Forward Is Back.” It tells my story of surviving war in Liberia, growing up in orphanages, and being adopted into a new world where I had to rebuild everything — my identity, my voice, my hope. I’m not just telling my story to be heard. I’m telling it so others — adoptees, parents, trauma survivors — can see that healing is possible, even after unimaginable pain.

But beyond the book, my obsession is creating spaces for conversations that matter. I’m building an online training for adoptive parents to better understand the heart and struggle of adoptees like me. I’m crafting children’s books inspired by my twins, Legend and Londyn, so that young kids — especially Black and adopted kids — can feel seen in stories that reflect their worth and wonder.

Why should it matter to you? Because we all crave belonging. And when someone dares to tell the truth about their pain and their comeback, it unlocks the courage for others to do the same. This isn’t just my toil — it’s a movement of hope. And I’m inviting you in.

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it’s God when it happens?

Man, if it wasn’t for the Holy Spirit, I wouldn’t be standing. I wouldn’t be speaking. I wouldn’t be writing this story at all. Every time I open my mouth to share my testimony — whether it’s in a church, a podcast, a school or even just a one-on-one conversation — I feel this surge of strength that isn’t mine. It’s like heaven breathes through my brokenness. I get chills. My voice steadies. And I just know — this isn’t about me anymore. This is God doing what only he can: turning ashes into beauty right in front of people’s eyes.

The Holy Spirit shows up in the moments when I’m empty — but still called to pour out. When I’m tired from working two jobs, raising twins, and chasing purpose, and somehow, I speak and people cry, or heal, or find hope again, that’s how I know it’s him. Because I couldn’t manufacture that. I couldn’t plan or perform my way into that kind of impact. That’s divine.

He doesn’t just invigorate my work — he is the work. I’m just the vessel.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied habits that open our hearts to the presence of God. So, let us in. Which spiritual practice is working best for you in this season?

Right now, the spiritual practice grounding me the most is lament. That might not be the flashy answer, but it’s honest. I’ve been walking through some deep personal heartbreak — family wounds, relational tension, unanswered questions. And instead of running from the pain or faking strength, I’ve been learning to sit with God in it. To grieve with him, not apart from him.

Lament isn’t just sadness — it’s worship in the wilderness. It’s me saying, “God, I don’t understand…but I’m still here. I’m still yours.” Journaling has become sacred for me in this. I write my rawest prayers — anger, grief, hope, confusion. And somehow, through the honesty, I find healing. His presence meets me in the pages, reminding me that I don’t have to clean myself up to come close. I just have to come.

And that … that’s been saving me.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Looking backward, considering the full sweep of your unique faith journey and all you encountered along the way, what top three resources stand out to you? What changed reality and your heart?

Looking back over my faith journey — from war-torn Liberia to being adopted into a new world — I can name three resources that completely reshaped my heart and reality:

The Bible — specifically the story of Joseph. When I first read about Joseph, something clicked. Here was a young man betrayed by his own family, thrown into a pit, sold into slavery. Yet somehow God used every part of his pain to position him for purpose. That story mirrored mine. It taught me that God doesn’t waste suffering — he redeems it. Joseph’s life gave me language for my own: What they meant for evil, God used for good.

Worship music — especially songs like “Way Maker” and “Goodness of God.” During some of my darkest seasons — when I was questioning my worth, when relationships felt broken, when identity felt fragile — worship became my anchor. I remember sitting in my car or a quiet room and letting those songs wash over me. I wasn’t singing lyrics — I was declaring truth over my story. Worship reminded me of who God is, even when I didn’t feel it.

Community — specifically a few mentors and spiritual brothers who saw me. There were people who didn’t just hand me a Bible and say, “Trust God.” They sat with me. They cried with me. They challenged me. They reminded me that healing takes time and that I was worthy of it. Their presence reflected Christ’s heart, and their belief in me helped me believe in myself.

Those three — Scripture, worship and community — didn’t just change my theology. They changed me.

We all have things we cling to to survive or even thrive in our fast-paced, techno-driven world. How have you been successful in harnessing technology to aid in your spiritual growth?

Honestly, in a world that moves fast and rarely pauses, technology has become both a challenge and a gift. But when I use it intentionally, it’s a powerful tool for spiritual growth.

Lately, I’ve been using voice memos to pray out loud while I drive or walk. I used to think prayer had to be quiet, structured or in a perfect place, but now I just hit record and start talking to God like he’s in the seat beside me. Later, I listen back and hear things I didn’t even realize I was carrying. It’s become a form of reflection and release.

I also use the YouVersion Bible App — not just for reading plans, but to highlight and meditate on verses that speak directly to what I’m walking through. When I feel overwhelmed or tempted to numb out on social media, I’ll pull up a verse I saved earlier and let that truth interrupt my scrolling.

And maybe most surprisingly, I’ve used social media itself to share parts of my story and hear from others. People DM me with their stories — adoption, trauma, healing — and suddenly, what felt like a noisy, empty space becomes sacred ground. A connection point. A ministry tool.

So yeah … technology doesn’t have to distract us from God. When used with purpose, it can draw us closer to him.

QUESTION #8: dream

God’s continually stirring new things in each of us. So, give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

What’s stirring in me right now is the start of a movement. I’ve shared my story through my memoir, but I know God’s not done — he’s calling me to create more spaces for healing, identity and hope.

Whether it’s launching a course for adoptive parents, writing children’s books inspired by my twins, or building a nonprofit to amplify stories of resilience, I feel God pushing me to not just tell stories, but to equip others to live redeemed ones.

What can you expect from me in the future? More boldness. More creativity. More spaces where people feel seen, heard and reminded that brokenness never gets the final word.

Jackson reminds us that God never wastes our suffering and pain in this life, but he has a plan for redemption that brings beauty for ashes. Jackson has found that sitting with God in the middle of suffering instead of running from pain has led to healing, and the practice of lament has been especially grounding for him. He says, “Lament isn’t just sadness — it’s worship in the wilderness.” When we take our sadness to the cross and worship in the middle of our pain, we are renewed and strengthened. While we can’t escape suffering in this world, we, as believers, have a Redeemer, a Restorer and a Burden Bearer who faithfully sits with us through suffering and invites us to rest in his love as he finishes writing our stories of redemption.

Jackson TerKeurst