Chris Watts, the Colorado man whose crimes horrified the world in 2018, is once again at the center of public attention. From inside the prison where he is serving multiple life sentences, Watts has claimed that despite the unimaginable brutality of his actions, he has found forgiveness from God. This startling revelation comes from a series of handwritten letters he sent to a female prison pen pal, where he describes himself as spiritually reborn and no longer defined by the atrocities that shocked the nation.
Watts, now in his early forties, was convicted of murdering his pregnant wife, Shanann, and their two daughters, Bella, age four, and Celeste, age three. Shanann, who was 15 weeks pregnant at the time, was carrying a baby boy the couple planned to name Niko. In the immediate aftermath of the murders, Watts presented himself to the world as a grieving husband and father.
He even appeared on local television to plead for his family’s safe return, feigning desperation and heartbreak. His façade quickly crumbled. Within two days, law enforcement uncovered damning evidence that pointed directly to him. Faced with overwhelming proof, Watts admitted to the murders. By November 2018, he chose to plead guilty to avoid the death penalty, and the court sentenced him to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.
In his recent letters, Watts attempts to recast his identity. He claims that through religion he has become “a new man.” Drawing from scripture, he quoted 2 Corinthians 5:17, which reads: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone; the new is here.” He insisted this verse defines his transformation, declaring himself a “new creature” in the eyes of God. According to Watts, he is no longer viewed by the divine as the man who murdered his family, but as someone redeemed and spiritually cleansed.
Despite his confidence in God’s forgiveness, Watts admits that self-forgiveness has been far more elusive. He wrote that God has removed his sins “as far as the east is from the west,” but for years he wrestled with guilt and despair. Only after long internal struggles, he says, has he finally found what he calls “the peace that passes all understanding.” Watts now insists that he lives with an inner calm, something he believes reflects his acceptance of divine grace.
Yet, woven through his supposed transformation is an unsettling pattern: his tendency to deflect blame. In the letters, Watts once again revisits his relationship with Nichol Kessinger, the woman he was seeing at the time of the murders. He described her using biblical terms like “Jezebel” and “harlot,” painting her as a manipulative presence whose words and influence led him astray. He claimed he was weak and allowed himself to be blinded by her promises.
While insisting that God will be the one to judge her, his words reveal an unwillingness to shoulder full responsibility for his actions. By shifting part of the blame to Kessinger, Watts suggests that his affair was a contributing factor to his crimes, a narrative that has sparked outrage from those who believe he continues to avoid complete accountability.
The details of the murders remain among the most haunting in recent history. On that August morning in Frederick, Colorado, Watts strangled Shanann in their family home. He then smothered Bella and Celeste, killing both children before transporting all three bodies to an oil site owned by his employer. There, he buried Shanann in a shallow grave and placed the bodies of his daughters inside crude oil tanks.
The sheer brutality of the crime, particularly against two innocent children, drew national and international condemnation. For many, it remains nearly impossible to comprehend how a father and husband could carry out such acts against those closest to him.
Shanann’s family, devastated beyond measure, had to come to terms with a loss that words could barely capture. During his sentencing, her parents, Frank and Sandra Rzucek, expressed a remarkable but painful mixture of grief and faith. They told the court they loved Watts like a son and, in their hearts, had chosen to forgive him. Their forgiveness, however, did not diminish the anguish of their loss, nor could it erase the horrific nature of his crimes. It was a reflection of their faith and humanity, not an absolution of his actions.
Now, as Watts declares himself redeemed and forgiven by God, the public is left grappling with difficult questions. Can someone responsible for such staggering violence ever truly be spiritually reborn? Is claiming divine forgiveness enough to alter the legacy of what he did? Watts’s assertion that he is a “new creature” stands in sharp contrast to the gravity of his crimes, forcing observers to wrestle with issues of justice, guilt, redemption, and the boundaries of faith.
More than six years after the murders, Chris Watts remains one of the most reviled figures in modern true crime. His letters may bring him a sense of relief or justification, but they cannot undo the devastation he inflicted on Shanann, Bella, Celeste, and their unborn child.
His declarations of peace and forgiveness will continue to divide opinion—some seeing them as self-serving rationalizations, others as an example of the boundless nature of religious grace. What remains undeniable is that four lives were cut short in an act of unimaginable cruelty, and no spiritual rebirth can ever erase that truth.