How Jesus changed their lives
There are so many people telling their stories about how Jesus changed their lives. And it’s not a simple formula or the same for everyone. We are all on our journey in our lives. We all carry our history and experiences with us. We all need a Saviour. We are all loved by our Creator.
Then, my uncle’s phone rang. The news fell down. His brother, and that means my father, has just died on his working place. I remember the first thing I said after I realized I would never see him again : “I’ve never told him I love him”. I was destroyed by a feeling of guiltiness.
“If this is all there is, then what’s the point?”
That describes how I felt about life as a young adult. My life lacked purpose and fulfillment. I just existed.
I remember one night specifically I was very upset about something, and I decided to text a friend. When I picked up my phone, I realized I had no one to text. I was filled with so much self pity, sadness, and loneliness, so I just started talking to God.
Two weeks after the funeral I returned to The University for my second year. It wasn’t the same; I missed my dad. I spent my days feeling sad and then trying not to feel sad. Mostly I attempted this by drinking, comfort eating, skipping lectures and finding comfort in different relationships.
Just when I was about to jump down my phone rang. It was my friend who suggested that we met. I could not say no, so we met. I did not tell him where I was and what I was about to do…
We were devastated. Having to tell our other two, young children about the loss of their little brother was the most difficult thing I have ever done.
It was so hard to accept myself. I didn’t even notice how I became involved in a hunt after my value. I wanted to prove both – others and myself – how intelligent and beautiful I am. I started pursuing it by various activities, works and relationships with guys.
As I went from one meaningless adventure to the next I ended up on a bench by the river in Bristol city centre. I had never felt so alone in my life.
Something was missing. Life wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t perfect. For every “nice Steve day” I had two “grumpy Steve days.” I hated imperfection. I began to hate myself. Though I never considered suicide or anything to that extreme, I still felt a deep longing for more. I wanted to know how to live, but people’s answers weren’t sufficient.
It was at primary school, with my friends who went to Sunday school, I heard about God for the first time. I was more afraid than envy. Being young, I was afraid of the future and dark.
So, I was lying face down on my bed. It was about 4am, one night in my first year at university and I was feeling absolutely exhausted, but my heart was still pumping with the caffeine from red bull & pro plus.
I was fascinated to see what God had done in my Mom’s life. But for myself, I didn’t want to let Jesus come too close to my heart. So my life was still being influenced by great fear. For example, I was so scared of the dark that I only stopped sleeping without a light when I was 13 years old.
Dead. I wanted to be dead. I wanted Death’s arms to envelope me and take me from this life: a life full of pain, abuse, abandonment, disappointment, hatred; I didn’t want it anymore. Oh, sweet surrender! Come Death, come!
God has done so many great things in my life. He has helped me through tough times and answered so many prayers – even the small everyday things. At times when I have been greatly stressed I learnt to give all my worry over to him and as a result felt complete peace and joy in the midst of all that was going on – and that is simply incredible!
My school time was hard for me, I was bullied and hurt with words. People said bad things about my body structure, my look and my appearance. Often I came home from school and cried and spoke bad things over myself and my life.
I remember very little of what happened that evening, but the next thing I knew, I was sitting alone in a cold, lifeless police station cell, not knowing precisely why I was there, how long I’d be there for, and what was going to happen to me.
When I came home from Church that day, I was again beaten by my stepfather. After that beating my heart had enough. I looked straight up to God and said, “If this is my future… I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
In 2012, all changed… It began with a discomfort while I was at my office; I had this discomfort several times. So I went to the doctor who sent me to the E.R. I had a lot of tests for a week.