From a very early age, I had always believed in God. I went to Sunday school in church where I learned about Jesus, his life and ministry. I remember regarding him as a very good man, an example to aspire to, but I never really understood what it truly meant to be a Christian. However, those Christian men and women who taught me, and those who looked after me at a young age, planted a seed in me. Later in my early twenties, I had a desire to come to know Christ, to have peace with Him and to receive forgiveness of my sins.
One January evening in 1994, I was in my bedroom at university, I was reading passages from the gospels and a tract that someone had given me from a local church. I quietly prayed to God to show me how I could follow Christ. It was if that everything I was reading suddenly came to life. For the first time in my life, I recognised who Jesus was, not just any person, but the Son of God who died to save us from our sins. My heart responded to him that night and, if I remember correctly, I spent the rest of that evening singing and dancing in the shower. I experienced indescribable joy.
In the summer of 1994, life started to become very challenging. A lot of the Christians who had supported me in my first steps of faith had gone home for the holidays. I felt alone. And over the coming weeks, doubts started to enter my mind. Was I really a Christian? Would God really accept me? I started to focus on every reason why He would not. Every sin, real and imaginary, would upset me, thinking that God no longer wanted me. Several weeks into my summer vacation, I started to become very depressed, thinking that God had left me and that, no matter how I tried, He would not have me back. I used to have nightmares at night thinking that something terrible would happen to me. It was like living 24/7 in a pit of despair.
One evening, I was at a friend's house chatting around the dining table and I felt so tormented that I had to go and lock myself in the bathroom. I apologised shortly afterwards and said that I did not feel well and had to go home.
When I got home, I went straight through the front door, up the stairs to my bedroom, and closed the door. I went on the floor, on my hands and knees, for about half an hour, pleading with God to help me out of my despair. I got up and sat on the bed. Within minutes, I felt completely surrounded with the presence of God. I felt I had been completely lifted out of a pit of despair and being embraced by His love. It seemed to last a long time, and the next thing I knew was that I had fallen asleep and enjoyed the most refreshing sleep I had as long as I could remember. I woke up the next morning with confidence and joy. My face was smiling at just about everyone I met that day. I returned to my friend's house in the evening and the entire family there looked at me with surprise and said "something has happened to you".
