Hi

I know that there must be people out there who are going through what I have been through.

I was brought up in your typical middle class family. My parents weren’t overly religious but my mother had told me when I was young that there is a God out there and he sent his son to die for us. I thank her for that because that foundation helped me to get saved and it has made me the person I am today.

When I was 5 my family moved from England to Australia. We all really enjoyed it but unfortunately our 2 year visa expired and we had to go back to England. We lost a lot of money doing that and we ended up in a house with bad heating and my Dad had to work long hours for little pay, but it was still enough to get by with. Then my Dad’s situation worsened and he ended up getting depressed. I remember coming home one day after school, my sister went straight to the TV but I went to see my Dad. He was on the bed crying and when he saw me he grabbed me and went hysterical and just kept saying, “What am I going to do, what am I going to do”. I was still young and I didn’t really know about depression so this confused me a lot. Mum found me and quickly took me away from him and told me not to worry and just forget about it. I will never forget.
I used to think back and wonder how things would’ve turned out if my sister had gone to see Dad and I had gone to watch TV. I don’t know, but I have no doubt that things would’ve been different. Seeing something like that changed me and made me realise that I loved my family no matter what.

After 4 years of waiting in England our Australian visa was accepted and because of Dad’s depression we decided to go to Australia. The plan was to get a one-way ticket and just go there to see if we really wanted to live there. My sister never said goodbye to her friends because she was certain she was coming back. Mum was indecisive about the whole thing and she said she only wanted to do what was best for the family even though she wanted to stay in England. Dad wanted to stay in Australia. So far the vote was 1 for Australia, 1 for England and 1 who didn’t mind, so the decision rested on me.

I decided to stay in Australia because I knew Dad would get better here but I never had any idea of what it would do to my sister. I thought a change would be good for us.

Things worked for a while but anger was building up in my sister and when she hit her teens it was like a massive explosion of malice. I guess that’s what teens are like but everyone was just fighting so much, non-stop. Mum and Dad were constantly at each other’s necks and my sister was fuelling it all. They would always turn to me and try to get me on their side but I didn’t want to get involved at all.

Through all this I was growing more and more depressed. Sometimes I would just cry and not know why I was crying. Well I guess the fighting would be one thing to cry about but I was used to it so I don’t think that was why I was crying.

That’s when God came to me.

He was like a little voice in my head that comforted me and joked around with me. He was my friend and even though talking aloud to something that you can’t me may seem a little crazy, I think it’s what kept me sane.

The fighting got so bad that Mum and Dad’s idea of a resolution would be for my mum and my sister to go back to England and my dad and I to stay here in Australia. I didn’t think it was much of a resolution.

My depression was getting worse and even though God was with me I wasn’t saved and I didn’t really know what to do so I decided to kill myself. I never actually got to it because my mum found me all hysterical and crying. She asked me why I was like that and I just told her it was because I missed my friends in England. I’m not sure if she bought it but after that the fighting cooled down, but it didn’t stop. Either way I got a little better. I still get depressed now and again but what can you do, at least I have God to get me through.

A year or two later when I had just hit my teens I was starting to fell really empty. I became depressed again. All I did was just sit in the same spot for hours and stare into the distance. Time really flies when you’re thinking. I tried to find something to fill the hole, to make me feel special. I turned to Satan and witchcraft. I hate it whenever I think back to it. I don’t know what happened. The little voice had gone and I needed something. Anything. I was desperate. I made a promise to Satan that when I was older and had my own place I would completely devote my life to witchcraft. Pretty stupid huh?

I was in a Christian school but I never really got into all that Christian stuff. Not until a year later. I started to call myself a Christian although I was still not saved. The promise still hung over my head. I had a lot of sins; a lot of burdens and it grew heavier every day. Then I just decided to forget about it. It worked for a little while.

When I was about 14 I started to hear things. People screaming and there were two people in particular. A boy and a girl. I’m not sure if they were just memories of a car crash I was involved with because some of the sounds I heard were very similar. I don’t know. I kept hearing them and soon they started to interact with me. They were hostile and the voices would ask me who I was, and what I was doing there… Where ‘there’ is I don’t know. I decided to tell my parents about it. They got worried and wanted to take me to a head doctor. The idea of being a crazy person wasn’t appealing to me at all. I told them not to worry about it. The voices grew worse and I ended up having to shout back at them to go away. Mum and dad got more worried and I didn’t want t be a crazy person so I decided I was going to get proof of the ‘voices’ existence. Getting the proof wasn’t that easy. I had to go on the Internet and look up all these ghost websites just to find out what I was actually looking for.

Time for me was running out and the head doctor was getting closer and I was getting more and more desperate. It ended with my first ever prayer. I got down on my knees and prayed aloud, asking God to help me prove I was not crazy. The next day I got a real big urge to take a photo of my living room so I did. The photo was full of them. Although being stalked by dead people isn’t something to be celebrating about I was sooooo happy. I ran to my parents and showed them the photo. They were terrified but I didn’t care. I was sane! I thanked God so much for that and asked him to save me. He did. After that I completely changed. You would not believe the horrid little selfish wretch I was. I used to obsess over stupid things like money and material things. I was a very practised liar. I could tell a lie with such wide-eyed conviction no matter how crazy it seemed and people would believe me.

I changed and because of God the hole in my life was filled. I was so filled I was bursting at the seams. All of my burdens and sins were lifted and I just felt so refreshed and clean. Something I hadn’t felt for a long time. Choosing God was the best thing I have ever done and I am so glad he chose me.

But… That picture I took opened something for me. As well as hearing them I also started to see them. I’m not going to say much about it except for the fact that a great deal of them were hostile and I have been grabbed by them a couple of times. I used to like them. I thought they made me special and they do I guess. It’s definitely different but I realised God would never put me in a dangerous situation like this and my ability to see these people was given to me from a different power. I remembered back to my promise. Satan knew he was loosing me so he decided to give me what I had asked for years back. I wanted to be special, to be different. This was far too much. I don’t need to see dead people to feel special because I know that when I die I will have much greater abilities. I’ll have wings for one. And I have and always will have God to call on to protect me. So that’s what I did. Every night I found myself having to call on God to shield me from the evil spirits that wanted to get at me. Satan’s plan had back fired. Something he used to try to sway me to his side actually brought me to God. In your face Satan!

I still see them now but not as much. I still call on God every night to protect me and he always delivers. Even though I’ve been through some pretty bad stuff I would not change it for anything. It has made me who I am today and for anyone who is going through a hard time I will tell you the same verse that gets me through hard times.

Romans 5:3-5 ‘But that’s not all! We gladly suffer, because we know that suffering helps us to endure. And endurance builds character, which gives us hope that will never disappoint us.’

At the end of the day it is God’s love that will get us through anything!

Thank you for reading my testimony

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Good Morning!

A bit of family background! I was born in 1989, in Swansea, and was brought up in a non-Chrisitian family. My parents did go to Sunday School as children, but that was because they were forced to and opted not to go again when they had the decision. I also have a brother who was in exactly the same spiritual position as me - dead!

I went to my primary school as a kid (like every other kid in the UK). There was one particular day I remember hearing about Christianity. I don’t remember much about the talk, but I remember the scene because I was wearing a Fireman Sam outfit then. Nothing really spiritually significant happened from then on until the age of 8. As a normal child, I was in my kitchen waiting for dinner when there was a knock on the door. It was my next door neighbour. He, as well as his family, were Chrisitians but both of our families got on so well together.  Anyway, back to the story.

He had came over to see if my brother and I wanted to go to their church for a children’s meeting.  He told me that there would be Bible stories, songs, praying, games, food…  The latter two sealed the deal for me.  My parents were willing for us to go, so off we went.  I remember going to the church and feel as if I had gone back in time.  The church is a Baptist church, so you can guess how old it is (it was built in the 1800s by the way).  The meeting went well and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  So I went again the week after.  I don’t actually remember much about the Bible stories, but I do remember the singing, which I still sing to this day.

 As I had turned from primary school into secondary school, I was moved from the children’s Friday Club (so called because it was on a Friday) to the YPF (Young People’s Fellowship).  This was one of two turning points in my life.  Since I was older, wiser and more mature, the stories and talks were much more hard-hitting, serious and challenging than what it was in the Friday Club.  But I was still disappointed because when I joined YPF, I promised myself that I will find God.  But it hadn’t happened.  However, there was a lifeline. 

If you, the readers, hadn’t heard, in the UK, there is a summer camp known as the EMW Camps.  It is placed all over Wales, except for one which is just outside the border (i.e. in England).  Each camp was either outdoor camping or indoor camping.  I had heard this from one of  leaders of YPF.  He has always gone on these camps, whether as a camper or as a leader.  I was so intrigued by what camp would offer me, so I took a camping form and opted to go to an outdoor camp in Dyffryn Ardudwy, along with 2 other members of my youth group.  It was an outdoor camp and I was really looking forward to it.

We arrived in Dyffryn Ardudwy, which is in North Wales, after a 5 hour bus journey.  My first impressions was “Wow!”.  It was in a field which had mountains on one side, fields on the other sides and a beach which was 5 minutes away.  It was a beautiful place.  I hoped that my week would be just as good.  During the week, we went to the mountains for a 5 mile trek, went into the local town centre for a browse and went to the beach in the night.  However, more importantly, we had tent Bible studies where we studied with the other members of our tents as well as our tent leader.  We also had a meeting where we read the Bible, sang songs and also prayed.  Many people were affected, and I think a few people gave their lives to God, but unfortunately, I hadn’t met Him.  I went home, looking forward to meeting my dear family, but disappointed that my life hadn’t changed.  But I didn’t give up hope, and decided to go on another camp next year, but in a new location.

It was the time of year for camps again, so I opted to go to Quinta, with my brother.  This is the camp that is in England, but is very close to the border (literally a 2 minute drive).  It was an indoor camp and, I was told, the best Christian camp possible.  I was not mistaken.  This camp had everything I could ask for.  An all weather court, large fields and woodlands, a hall and an outdoor swimming pool.  But was God there?  That is what I was waiting for.

This week was the greatest one I have lived.  We had a five-a-side football tournament, played Capture The Flag in the woods, played Leg Wrestling (which I was officially champion) and went to Drayton Manor (one of the greatest theme parks in the UK).  As with Dyffryn Ardudwy, I had dorm Bible studies, and we also had meetings.  I loved this week up until the last night.  We had a meeting like no others.

 Like the previous meetings, the meeting began with the funny parts.  As soon that had finished, we would normally have a Bible study with the Chaplain of the week.  However, on this night, people were able to give their testimonies.  These testimonies must have been out against me, because I was touched and challenged by what was said.  It proved to me that no matter the background of your life is, if you are willing to give your life to God and admit that you are a sinner, then God will let you into His Kingdom.  Just as I thought that was that, they played a song that summed up the night.  It has since become my favourite song and the Psalm behind it has become my favourite Psalm.  The song is called “When I Was Lost” by Kate Simmonds.  As soon as the song started, I could feel the room get smaller and the room lit up.  I could sense that God was there and that He wanted to speak to me.  Everyone were pouring out their souls and were worshipping and rejoicing in His Name.  I was singing the song, but I remember that I didn’t have any feelings behind it.  When the song finished, everyone sat back down and prayed.  I could see that everyone was affected by this night.  I went to bed at midnight so that I could get an early night.  The Chaplain came into my room and had a chat with me.  He asked how I enjoyed the week (these words aren’t the exact words, but it is similar).

Chaplain - How have you enjoyed this week?

Me - Really enjoyed it.  Best week of my life.  I could sense that God was here tonight.

Chaplain - Well, I hope that you will accept Him as your personal Saviour.  Good night and God Bless

Me - Good night.

I woke up the next morning, looking forward to meeting my parents again.  I was anticipating for the bus journey home.  After a lot of goodbyes to mates that I had made that week (but had sadly lost all the contacts to), I stepped foot on the bus.  When I was on the bus, I had a sudden, over-whelming feeling of guilt.  I may as well note now, the night before, I had prayed to God to show me if I needed Him.

On the bus, I was thinking of what I had done to feel so guilty.  The only thing that I could think of was slide tackling a girl while playing rounders in the week.  I didn’t intend to do it, I accidentally caught the girl (and most of the earth) and took them with me.  I had apologised which she accepted.  I felt guilty but not enough for the feeling I had at the moment on the bus.  I tried to get rid of the feeling by positive thinking, like scoring the winning goal for Swansea City in a cup final.  That didn’t work!  Then the coin dropped in my head.  I had just been on a Christian week, looking for God.  Is this God telling me that He is forgiving of my sins, or was it just my mind.  Needless to say, God then came into my life and from the 5th August 2004 (day I was converted), we had a good relationship!!!

 My brother later told me that he had met God on that week and had since given his life to God.

 God also answered one of my prayers.  I had prayed for about 2 months prior to my conversion that my parents would be saved as well.  My mum started to go to a church with a friend, and eventually got my dad to go as well.  My mother gave her life to God around the same time as me, whereas my dad gave his a couple of weeks after my mum’s conversion.  So you can see that God does listen!

We went back to my church and told our pastor who had the biggest smile on his face when we told him.  Since the conversion, I had stopped my blasphemies to God, and has now respected people more.  I became involved with the church’s Easter Holiday Bible Club, went to Beach Missions in North Wales and also on another Christian Camp, this time in the Gower (in Swansea) and for one weekend in June each year.  On 26th or 27th November 2006, myself and three other members of the church congregation became baptised.  It was great to tell people my story, and to tell the people how  God was, is and always will be great.

In preparation of my testimony at my baptism, I was given a tip to give an advise to Christians and Non-Christians.  So here they are!

Christians - Be proud in what you believe in.  If people want to cut you down, let them.  You have God on your side and He will never leave you.  God gives us strength and through Him, all things are possible.

Non-Christians -  Never give up looking for God!  It may take 1 hour, a day, a month or a year.  No matter how long it takes, it will be worth it, I promise you!  If you are reading this and think that God still doesn’t exist, then read this bit.

In an Religious Studies lesson in secondary school, we were studying about a Christian in the 1300s (?) who made up a theory about Creation.  He asked a group of people (think they were scientists) how the world was created.  They replied atoms smashing into each other.  He replied “How did they get here?” in which they gave another answer.  He kept asking “How did they get here?” until they gave an answer “We don’t know” or “It just was there.”  When he had heard this, he said “They weren’t there by accident, God put it there.” 

After reading this, I realised that God did make the World and all thing in it and surrounding it.  Something doesn’t appear there because of accident.  You don’t expect MP3 players to grow on trees, they are built in a factory.  You get what I mean?  If not, please leave me a comment so I may be of some help.

Thank you very much for reading this and hope God will be with now, and always.

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Hi,

My name is Charlie Borg, a fifty six year old  man, born on the island of Malta but have been in Australia thirty seven years to date. This is my testimony of salvation and a witness as to the unfathomed, never ending love of God who is so Holy .

Going to church was the normal thing to do as a catholic kid living in a total catholic country. More than the normal child actually, since my dad was the church’s organist and tenor. I had hung around dad and since I can remember,  always went with him to do the singing and the rest rain or shine, early mass, midnight celebrations at Chrismas and Easter tseasons etc. I remember from when I was knee high, standing beside him as he played the old Bellows (pump-up) organ and trying to sing. I recall him giving me dirty looks Which I could not understand, as I use to throw him out of key and many a times he would put his left hand on my mouth saying “stop singing, PPLLZZ you are putting me off key”. Well I used to get offended and start sulking, yet he never stopped me going with him, and I grew up as a church goer and choir boy, altar boy and most of all as I saw it,  a servant of God. I behaved normally the moment I got out of church though. Not that I was bad as such, but man was I a live wire?  I worked all my days off in the bakery my family owned during all of my teenage years while doing a Marine Radio officer College. at the age of 19 I landed in Australia and started a new life.

Going back to my childish days, I remember at the age of seven My dad came home and told me that the priest wanted me to write a sermon about Chrismas and all it meant. Wow, did I panic! He calmed me down and explained that I wont be doing it without super vision and then he added “If you do it right you have to get on the pulpit at the midnight mass and preach it. GULP!

Guess what, I done right and I was told that I had to preach it at midnight at the Chrismas. Well you can imagine I was a little terrified of getting up on the pulpit facing all those people, having to remember the sermon by heart,OOHHH BBOOYYY!!. Well the time came near midnight I was told to go up on the pulpit and when given the signal I had to start preaching this sermon. IT WASN’T EASY getting up on the pulpit even. I remember trembling with fear of making mistakes, not rememberring the words etc, you know PARANOI  MAJORA! Almost wetting my nappy.

Well I was up on the pulpit, and the time came to start and and when I started to open my mouth to declare “Gloria in exelsis Deos, et in terra pax dominicus”, this anointin filled me up and I preached that sermon as if it was my day job. Oh glory to God indeed, I came down like fire off that pulpit, litup like a flame, the people clapping and glorifying God and so on. Let me assure you, I had no Idea at the time what annointing was, man, I was only seven but, IT FELT SO GREAT, I can remember I felt like my insides had been doused with fuel and lit up.

Well life went on, at 21 I got married to the woman I had known and went out wth backin my lod country, who I kept in contact with via the mail and I was in love with, and so on. A very talented woman, her hands could make what her eyes saw.  We moved in to a modified ‘chicken shed’. I spent four months doing it up every day after work,  it was quite a comfortable little flat. A few weeks passed and I arrived from work after a day of runnuing round the country side fixing Television and all. It was a hot summers day, I MEAN HOT. About two minutes ,  I saw the landlord coming towards me and as he approached he started yelling ”get up on the roof and nail it down, there is a big storm coming up, there is News Flashes on all the TV stations bla bla bla.. I forgot to tell you about it..bla bla…”

Man, I was annoyed at him because I spent all those evenings there fixing things and HE NEVER MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT THE ROOF!!  After five minute of winging and wining I climbed up on the roof with a few (3 inch) three inch galvanized nails and as I got up I could see this dark cloud, thundering and I could see lightning flashes, a cold wind started to come up etc..

I was only wearing my uniform at that time, which was only a flimsy summer shirt and shorts, I had taken off my shoes and socks and I was up there hammering the roof down. The climate changed, the temperature fell down quick and large drops of cold water started to fall, my hand got cold and next thing I know I hit my thumb with the hammer and boy! I blasphemed. Yeh, I am sorry to say, that was a bad habitual sin I had in those days, blaspheeming the name of God. I get emberrassed every time I witness to someone, but to show that great love of God, it overwrites the embarressment. Well, I carried on hammerring, the rain increased, it got colder,  my thumb was all colors and throbbing, and I was freezing cold by now, the raindrops turned into large hail which hurt as it hit me, and guess what? I hit my thumb the second time, and as you can imagine it wasn’t fun. I blaspheemed the second time, tears coming out of my eyes with pain and I had to carry on nailing this roof, because the roof sheeting started to flutter and shake etc..

Well, as I almost got to the finish, with a few nails left, I hit my thumb again for the third time. I looked up to heaven and whole heartedly danmed the name of God, while shaking the hammer at the sky in a very angry way. (I am not proud of what I did then, but that is what I did,  and that is the truth, much as embarressing as it may be).

All of a sudden I felt a HAND TAKING HOLD OF MY HEAD, and while gently lowering my head down to earth a VERY GENLTE voice said “At least bow your head down when you mention my Name!”

Well what can I say? I was terrified, I jumped off the roof,ran into the house, locked the back door, double secured and ran into the bathroom locked the door and tried to hide myself, crouching into a corner covering my head, waiting for something  to happen. Nothing happened, my wife came up to the bathroom door and queeried what was going on, and asked me ”whats the matter with you?” and I said “I just heard God speaking to me, while I was swearing at Him!” and she replied ” AH, you must be hearing things or going crazy”, and with a loud chuckle, she went away, while I was still crouched down in the corner of the bathroom.

That was the first time I ever heard the voice of the Lord God, and never ever blaspheemed again, not in the last thirty six years.  The thing I could not comprehend was,  how lovely and merciful this God was,  because if it was me and some one offended me, I would have flicked him off the roof. Wouldn’t you? But this was God, MY GOD! Man I never could figure out this love of his, and how gently he touched me and spoke to mewhile lowerring my head.

Wow,  I still cannot remember a time when I moved so fast in my life. Until this time I was still not born again though, and life went on, bought and sold our first house then bought eleven acres of land, to owner-build our second house, while at the same time still working on the road, and living in a 10 x 20 foot shed, sleeping in a caravan sitting on our 11 acres. What a beautiful place that was, on top of a ridge in Kurrajong NSW in good old OZ. This land down under, one of the most beautiful countries on earth, Praise God. 

Time went by, my work load got heavy, my wife got nasty, always talking of her back home, and I could never make this woman happy, no matter how hard I worked and how many things I did for her and all that goes on in a marriage on its way down.

But the Lord  had been watching, keeping His eye on me, I had never lost faith in Him no matter what! I prayed and prayed as the arguments got bigger in our house hold. By now we had had a son, which she never wanted in the first place, because he (the babt I had made) ruined her carrier and crushed her dreams, which she really,  never even discussed with me. Depression set in me and my joyous and free life started to become a ‘barless jail’, misery sat in me I started to get weak and every thing else started to look much bigger and heavier than what it really was.

One day, while I was on my own, during a week day I had taken a day off work, while I was  sorthing out bricks and preparing them for the brick layers, I noticed a man walking down the road. This was not normal because this was country, far from everything and you didn’t see people walking very often. It looked odd, but I put my head down and carried on shifting bricks. All of a sudden I heard a voice and I turned round and saw this same man that was walking down the road. I stopped working, said hello and all that goes with it, then he asked me if I needed a hand. Well, I didn’t trust strangers in those days and I answered him with a no, I said because I could handle it all by myself. Well the fact of the matter was that I really needed a hand becauase the chores were really hard , heavy and very labourious, to say the least. He asked me again and on the third time I said “ok”.

While working together we started chatting about all sort of things and religion came up, and he assumed I was a catholic and started telling me thing, from the bible which did not coincide with what I was taught when I was young. He asked me if I read the bible and I told him that I had STOLEN a bible from a motel once, tried reading it, but since it was written in the old English language, I coudn’t make heads or tails of it, meaning I could not really understand what I was reading. Then he offered to give the GOOD NEWS BIBLE if I wished, which was written in a much simpler English, which he assured me, was very easy to read. Well, I accepted and for the first time in my life I started to read the BIBLE and enjoying it, while finding out some truths which my cathechists I learned from during my childhood, did not quite tell me truths and real stories. Boy, I got stuck into scripture so bad my missus thaught I was losing it.

After a few weeks someone from my wife’s work invited us to a morning christian meeting. I was sceptic about all this, I had been getting this feeling that I was getting close to God as I read the scriptures. I eventually said “Ok, we will go, but this and that..”

On the day, a Sunday, we were on our way to this place, someones house, thats all I knew. On the way there I was praying fervently to God. I prayed and stated to the God, that I would rather have an car accident and die, me and my family, IF this meeting was going to turn me away from HIM.

We didn’t die or even had an accident, we walked into this house was greeted and welcomed by the man of the house, while he appologised that his wife wasnt there because she had to go to their church as she was the pianist of their congregation and so forth. The man explained he was going to read some scripture and later we would be discussing what the scripture really meant. It was all about the Material World! Then we were asked to think of something that we really wished to have, like a comodity or a luxary. everyone answered with in materialistic object, like a car or bigger house etc. Then he looked at me and asked me what I wished for. I boldly answered “I just want a relationship with God!”

“Fine” he said, and the next wish came along suggesting things regarding work and what could be better or what would improve their living standards. Everyone went for the promotion thing and what they could be etc. He looked at me again and before he could say anything, I said “I just want a relationship with God, fullstop!” 

“OK,” he said “just one more question, what would be the ultimate thing you would want to happen in your life, that would make you happy for the rest of it? and all the people answered with some materialistic thing, objects etc.

And he looked at me for the third time. I was getting a bit annoyed with this man, it was gwtting a bit monotonous for me, I am the type to get on and get going. So I looked at him, almost in anger and BOLDLY said “LOOK, ALL I WANT, IS, A CLOSER, RELATIONSHIP, WITH GOD!”

As my mouth ended pronouncing the letter ‘D’ for Godddd

My spirit was split in two, a vision of a large sword slicing me from top to bottom, is what I saw.  My inside aflame, just like I had felt when I preached at the age of seven, and I saw after that sight of something that was white at the left side and black on the right side. I burst into tears, I realised that I had been born again. YEEHAA PRAISE GOD and a big Haleluhja!

That is how I was born again folks, since i have grown and still growing in the Lord, My attitude towards life has changed, I love and enjoy whatever I do especially ministering to others and helping people in need. I learned to love and not to hate, keep peace and not war forgive and not revenge. That is now the change in me, after twenty six years at the university of the HOLY GHOST. I love God and the best part of it is that HE LOVED ME FIRST, even as I was still a sinner. AMEN. 

 

Hi, t

This is my first time writing on here.  This seems to be a wonderful website, and I have enjoyed much of the testimony that I have read.  The Lord seems to be with you all.

I am newly married, have been for only 3 months.  I have entered a difficult time in my life and am having faith that God will make all well. 

For the last few weeks I had been wondering about where I stood with my wife.  Eventually I told her that I felt I was not a priority to her and that there were several others in her life including herself that come before me.  I have felt neglected and taken for granted.  I do love her unconditionally with all my heart and try to show her that daily, however I have not felt the same way.  She opened up to me when I come to her about this and informed me that her heart had been wounded from a previous relationship and with all the worrying about other things and convictions from her past she wasn’t able to give me all of herself at the moment.  She informed me that she thought she was not ready yet to marry when we did, but that she did not want to lose me. 

This really crushed me at the time and broke my heart.  This was last week.  I told her this was so hard for me because I had never in my life been the center of someone’s attention or a real importance to anyone (including parents), so when we married I thought I had found it in her.  I have been going to the Lord for strength and guidance and do feel better.  She is also seeking the Lord to take care of her heart and give her that love for me that she and I desire.  We are going to counseling starting in a couple of weeks, but I can’t say that I am yet 100% confident in the end result.  We have been open with each other and get along.  We know what each of us must do and are committed to it.  I just hope and pray all is well soon. 

Sorry to ramble on, but if anyone has any words of encouragement and strength I would truly appreciate it.  This is a hard time for me.  Thank you so much for your time.

 

 

Dear reader,

I was sexually molested for years as a young child. It began with my father coming into my room at night when I was just a toddler. I’m cursed with an excellent memory, and the first time I can remember being molested by my father took place in the living room of the house I moved out of when I was three. My father also had a friend who lived with us on and off, known to my brothers and I as “Uncle”. He also participated in the sexual abuse. When I was about 8, he stopped.

And though he stopped physically touching me, it seemed as though it never stopped. I would have nightmares about the abuse starting again. At twelve, I began dating older guys and experimenting sexually with them, because I had no idea what a normal interaction should be between a girl and guy. Whenever I was with a guy, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was really my father touching me. I had sex with a guy who was 18 when I was 12 and 13, and cried every time.

I entered high school, I began seeking God. I went to a youth group type thing, and learned some about God and Jesus and the Christian story. I had a very abstract idea of God, and was interested, but wondered how I could get past the hurt.

But even 6 years after the abuse stopped, I could still feel my father’s hands touching me every second. I was constantly being violated. Freshman year my father went to jail for selling drugs, but even though he was out of my life, he still followed me around. It haunted me to the point that I decided all convicted molesters should be given the death penalty so that maybe a victim could relax.

I spent many nights unable to go to sleep, the scenes of my father molesting me running through my head like a movie relentlessly, how one usually gets a song stuck in his head.

But one night, I suddenly no longer had my father’s violating, poisonous hands running over me, but the gentle, healing hands of God, letting me know that He was there, and was replacing the feelings that had burdened me for so long. I fell asleep in God’s arms that night. He filled that tiny, gaping hole inside of my soul, and I’ve found a permanent safe home within his hands.

Hallo!,

This testimony was sent by Azali, who is from the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Azali was an ardent follower of Mohammed until the seeing the results of a challenge he laid out before some Christian students. The testimony describes how this man was converted to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.

And He said unto them: “Go into the world, and preach the gospel to every Creature.” (Mark 16:15)

When I was 14 years old I was studying in a convent school at Saddar Karachi Pakistan. I belonged to a Muslim family. My parents forced me to learn the Qur’an by heart when I was seven and so I did. I had a lot of Christian fellows (or acquaintances) at school.

I was surprised to see them studying while I always found Christians of low profile in the society. I discussed and argued a lot with them about the accuracy of Qur’an and rejection of Bible by Allah in Holy Qur’an. I always forced them to accept Islam. Often my Christian teacher told me not to do so. He said, “God may choose you as he chose the Apostle Paul.” I asked them who is Paul, I know Muhammad only.

One day during our discussion I challenged them to burn the Holy Books of each other. They should burn the Qur’an and I should do the same with the Bible. We agreed: “The book which would burn, would be false. The book, which would not burn, has the Truth in it. God Himself would save His Word.” Unfortunately they were not ready to do this because they were frightened. Living in an Islamic Country and doing such a thing could lead them to face the law and meet its consequences. I told them I could do this by myself.

First I set the Qur’an on fire and it got burnt before our eyes. Then I tried to do the same with the Bible. As soon as I tried it, the Bible struck my chest and I fell on the ground. There was smoke all around my body. I was burning, but from a spiritual fire.

Suddenly I saw a man with golden hair, wrapped in light on my side. He placed his hand on my head and said to me “You are my son and from now on you will preach the Gospel in your nation. Go! Your Lord is with you.”

Then I saw the stone on the grave, which was removed. Mariam Magdalene spoke to the gardener who probably took the body of my Lord. The gardener was Jesus Himself. He kissed the hand of Mariam and I woke up. I felt very strong as if when someone would strike me, I could not be hurt.

I went home and I told my parents about all what happened. But they did not believe it. They thought that the Christians got me under magic, but I told them that all this happened before my very own eyes and that many people were watching this. They still did not believe and they turned me out of my home and refused to accept me as their family member.

I went to a Church close to my home; I told the Father there all about what happened. I asked him to show me the Bible. He gave me one and I read about the event of Mariam Magdalene and I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior on 02-17-85.

My Family refused to accept me. I went to various churches and got more knowledge about the Word of God. I also followed many Bible Courses and then I got a ministry.

Now after 20 years, I have seen many people come to the Lord and accept Jesus Christ as their Savior. Thanks to the Lord, I am now married and have a Christian family. Me and my wife Khadija are involved in the work of the Lord and able to share the miracles God has been doing in our lives.

Even though it is not easy and we face many hardships, we feel like Paul who went through hardships and suffering for the Glory of His Savior, who went Himself through suffering during His walk on earth and on the cross. We thank God the Father for sending His Son to this earth and giving us free life through Him.

We thank God for His Spirit who encourages us day by day to live for Him. E-mail : Azali5059457@msn.com / azalikhi@aim.com

 

Ok, it's me again,

This is an account that I typed out about a month after the event, for copy/paste purposes. After retelling the story for the 10th time, I figured it would be a good idea to just get it down so I could simply drag and drop. =) Here is the story of how I came to Christ:

First a bit about myself: I was raised in a Christian environment. My parents were Christians, and we went to church every Sunday. Now while this was a Christian environment, it was not an overzealous one that you often times hear about. I come from a very loving family that cares more about my brother and I than anything else in this world. This is a blessing as I realize so many these days come from broken homes. I almost feel guilty and wonder “why me?” Why was I blessed with a loving father and mother, a great extended family and so many opportunities?

Anyway.. to fast-forward a bit: I went to a Christian school. This is where I began to develop a hatred for Christianity. It was solely based on the people. I saw people I perceived as “hypocrites”, raising their hands in chapel, saying one thing and doing another, and it started to turn me away from the whole deal. I was judging the absolute by the standard of other flawed humans.

The “fall” of me was not complete until I got out of high school and discovered the wonders of drugs. Amazing, something that can completely alter perception in ways impossible to imagine from a drug-naive perspective! I was enamored, and I got further and further into the drug lifestyle, researching different chemicals, side effects, safe dosages, trip experiences, etc etc. Psychedelics always offered great profound (but in reality, dumb) experiences, but my true love was in opiates. Ever since the 1st taste of the painkiller high, I knew what I loved.

Years passed (about 3) and I got further and further into drugs. Up until a point it was relatively innocent: Weed, beer, occasional shrooming, and an even rarer jump into some cocaine or something harder. But from the grand perspective of drugs and addiction, I was still on the light side of things (at least know that now, I was at the VERY light side of things) It didn’t get serious until I got a good-paying job and found a way to get painkillers.

I became physically and mentally addicted to opiate-based painkillers (Morphine, vicodin, hydrocodone, lortab, percocets…all different names for the same base chemical: Opium) I fell for them, and I fell hard. I was spending somewhere near $30 a day on my habit, I had lost around 20 pounds and had the mindset that I would rather waste away and die than give up this thing I loved so much. But it became to expensive… unfortunately I was stuck. Physical addiction to opiates is the number one most difficult addiction to break, so I turned to a cheaper way to keep myself from going into withdrawal: Methadone.

My $30/day ravenous habit became $3/day. I gained back 15 or so pounds, and was leveled out in many aspects by the methadone. It did not produce an overt “high” and stayed in my system for 36 hours each pill. (Maintenance, as was intended) It allowed me to get my life back, and continue my education. At this point things were on an upswing. I intended to stay on methadone for the rest of my life, and was perfectly content to do so.
Now here is a quick lesson about methadone: It is an opiate like all of the others, it is just longer lasting and has minimal negative physical and psychological effects (such that one can use it an entire lifetime and live a normal lifespan) BUT… it is THE MOST DIFFICULT substance on EARTH to kick. Heroin addicts will tell you, kicking H. is cake compared to EVER having any hope of getting off of the almighty methadone. (I still take maintenence doses today, and am trying to get help with it. It is tough, but I believe that God will offer the way out. But I also believe that I’m going to have to face the hole that I dug myself into)

6 months on methadone. Same dose, no updosing, school is going well, work is going great, money is being saved, and a bright future in the medical field becomes more of a reality. For all intents and purposes I was “happy”, but something did not feel right. Ever since my break with Christ, there was a nagging feeling that something was missing. It was nothing constant, it was just this overall underlying sense that the world is not what it seems. I personally believe that every unbeliever, on some level, experiences this. (Some just hide it better than others, even from themselves) No matter how many promotions or MVPs at work, no matter how many successful friendships and relationships I had, there was something missing.

So I prayed. I prayed every night. I was agnostic and severely scientific to a fault (as is reflected in my major) I prayed a very simple, ritualistic little prayer every night, nothing big. I said “God, if you’re out there, I pray that you would guide my life the way it needs to go.” I prayed this for months. No result. No huge lightning bolt from the sky with a scroll saying “Kyle, you need to believe.” But I kept praying, even though I had no clue if God was real, fake, or whatever.

And then it happened.

One night I was sitting with my friend discussing religion. It was a night like any other and there were no drugs involved (other than the drug I had been taking for some 6+ months to keep me from withdrawal, and opiates are in no way hallucinogenic so as to cause such a thing) A chain of now-obvious events had lead up to this very moment. Only now can I look back and see how things were laid out SO perfectly.

I was sitting there, on my beanbag in front of the TV. We were listening to a CD that my mom got me from church. (She now tells me she felt strangely compelled to get the CD-copy of this particular sermon) It was a sermon about heaven, not that it is very relevant to what happened next. My friend had found a point of dispute and asked me to pause the CD immediately. We began discussing heaven:

“You don’t actually think heaven is a real place do you?”

And then it hit me….. I do believe. “yes.” I had no idea why I just said “Yes.”

He was baffled, “Well I never knew you were this kind of person.” What happened next is the literal point of my salvation.

I cannot describe it in words that would do it any iota of justice. It was as if all of a sudden something had entered the room. God was there, the Holy Spirit was there, Christ was there… The Spirit of God was there. It was love. I experienced love. It was like a light (not a literal visual light) was in the room. It shone on me, and for the 1st time I realized how far lost I really was. I began to sob silently. At 1st a few tears rolled down my cheeks and my friend Caleb asked “Are you alright man?” He was taken aback that I was actually crying, and began to see how serious I was. I believe he also saw that’s something very real was going on in my mind at that time, something beyond me.

I stifled a “Yeah…” but it got heavier and heavier.

I felt this force that was so powerful, so loving, possessing all the power in the vast universe and yet so gentle toward someone as wretched as me. It mourned me to look upon my heart and see the true nature of it. I was seeing myself behind all of my justifications and ego walls I (and everyone) had built. I saw that even though I was a “good person” everything I did was for myself. It was all “me-centered”.

I began to sob bitterly, and so did he. (We are not the kind of guys that cry. This is not some kind of macho-statement, it is just not the way we have been raised to express ourselves)

It was a bitter mournful, chest-heaving sobbing. My world, the world that I knew was being completely shattered. My hopes and dreams of getting a great job, a wonderful wife, a nice car, a nice home became useless. None of that would make me truly happy, it was all fleeting.

This is the realization that hit me: Everything dies. Yes, an obvious one. But one that had NEVER hit me as real and as hard as it did now. It was as if the matrix I was in was pulled form my eyes, and I saw the harsh reality of the world in which we live: The world that I had completely fallen for. I will die, my mother will die, my dad will die, my brother will die… my friends, loved ones of all sort, everyone… I’ll die. All of the things that I hold so dear: my game systems, my nice TV, my money, my nice clothes, my collections, ALL those things that I hold SO much value for will be DUST at the end of the day. None of it matters.

The answer was given. Jesus was the answer. It was in my all along. I knew it couldn’t be the trivialities of this world, and that is when the revelation hit me:

In a world that IS going to end, the only things that have value are the things INDIVIDUALS CHOOSE to place value on.

I realized that I was falling hook line and sinker for everything society said is important: Pure scientific logic in every area of life, fast cars, sex, temporary highs, high-tech material goods, commerce, the list goes on… Why were these things important at all? If it all ends then who is society to tell me what is important to me? Why did I let it become so engrained in my being?

At this point both of us were weeping so bitterly there were no words spoken. It was an amazing thing: sheer grief at the situation of our lives and of this world.

I knew I had to confess Christ to my friend, tell him that I believed. I kept remembering when Christ said “He who confesses my name in front of men I will acknowledge before the angels in heaven, but he who denies me I shall say “I have not known you”

And then something grieved me even harder: Even though I was faced with this incredible evidence, this incredible UNDENIABLE presence my mind was still whirring. It said:

“YOU may be feeling this incredible force now, but who are you to say that this is the one true way and that a faithful Islamic man is wrong? He is willing to blow himself up for his sheer faith! How can YOU say that you are right and he is wrong?”

And at that point I realized what that was. It was society’s logic. It was my scientific agnosticism. I thought I was incredibly “free and open-minded” because of this. But I realized something then: It did nothing but bring me back to square 1: Believing in NOTHING.

At that point I chose to take value away from that “logic” in my head (as all things in this ending world only have as much value as the individual chooses to give value to), and I CHOSE to give value to faith in Jesus Christ. I was confused, and I can assure you that it has in no way gotten easier, it is a constant battle with myself. But I can tell you that I know where my soul lies when this body takes it’s last breath, and I can assure you that Christ has offered me in no uncertain terms HOPE.

I knew my friend wasn’t in any way close to becoming a Christian, but I asked him if he would humor me and allow me to pray with him. He agreed and we prayed. The next day I sought wise council to get some questions answered regarding this CONFUSING experience. He defined the experience as “toughing the hem of the garment” of Christ. I was saved then, and I am saved now. Praise be to Christ. =)

But I also realize that everyone has the potential for this joy. It is nothing based on others, it is something profoundly personal. When you know you will KNOW. Every single person on this earth regardless of any circumstance is just another soul that Christ died to save. I hope this message reaches at least one person so that they can experience the joy I found. And the hope of Christ, heaven and the difficult path that leads to eternal life. I was fooled for so long, and only a direct experience like this could have opened my eyes.

That’s pretty much as well as I can put it. Quite abridged still, but I don’t have all night to type, haha. I can expound if anyone has questions.

Additional note: Many people claim that it is difficult to believe a story like this because of the “drugs” I was on. An understanding of opiates in general (particularly methadone) will make it obvious that these drugs do NOT cause hallucinations. An opiate addict for over a year and a methadone maintenance patient for around 6 months at this point, methadone barely got me to “normal”, much less made me high. Even if it was a dose that was capable of making me high, they simply don’t do this to a person. I realize people will justify drugs as a cause of this, but I also realize that many people are looking for excuses to discount any form of greater power. I can assure you that it was nothing like I had ever experience on any drug. (In my 5 years of doing literally every drug available, I have had MANY “God-like” experiences. But in all of them, the individual knows it was caused by the substance.

Unfortunately I’m stuck on methadone. I realize God has the power to deliver me, but I also know that everything happens for a purpose. At this point I will keep faith and try to follow Christ as best I can, but also accept his grace and mercy above all. =)

If just one person reads this and thinks “Wow, there could just be something to this.” Then it was all worth it.