How Jesus changed my life

by Adrian

I was brought up in a Roman Catholic family and all the traditions connected with that - first confession, first communion and confirmation. Making my first confession as a child had no effect on me. I went into the confessional box and told the priest what I had done wrong but I had no true remorse inside me. My first communion was much the same. As I got older my prayers to God became less frequent and I really questioned God's existence. I was eleven years old when I went to make my confirmation.

The big day arrived. I went up to the Bishop, who said a few words, I gave my promise and that was it! Next please - bewildered I stared at the guy who stood behind me and I remember telling him that I must have missed something. Maybe I had forgotten to say "amen" and the Spirit skipped me. I forgot about God after that. Anyway there wasn't one I thought.

Unfortunately, my family life wasn't the greatest and the only escape I could find was in drugs, drink and solvents. I stole to feed my habits and gave my parents more problems than they had already. Hiding my feelings and emotions behind drink and drugs wasn't the answer and eventually I blew up one night. All my suppressed feelings and anger erupted and I took another man's life.

After a few years, it really hit home - the pain, the hurt. I lay in a prison within a prison. There are no words to describe the taking of a life; a part of you dies with that person. You can't dream, you can't love and everything, every day, reminds you of what you did.

Eventually, I decided I couldn't live with the consequences of my actions. I wanted to die. I lay on my bed and thought of all my family and loved ones. I reckoned that if I took my own life, maybe justice would be balanced. I was just about to end my life when I thought, if I die where will I go? I cried out aloud "I don't believe in you but if you are there, forgive me!"

A voice like my conscience told me to read the Bible. I had a Bible in my cell but I never went near it. I started reading John's gospel and I don't even think I had read the first chapter when the tears were running down my face.

The more I read the Bible, the more the tears fell. I felt that if anything would keep me from God, it was the murder I had committed. Now every dirty deed I had done, even things I didn't realise were sins seemed to fill my head and I asked God to forgive them all. Exhausted, I fell asleep.

I woke up next morning feeling as clean as a newborn baby. Words started going through my head "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus." I knew Jesus died to set me free, yet I couldn't understand how I was able to believe in Him. How could I have faith in someone, who twenty-four hours earlier, I didn't believe existed?

A friend from Prison Fellowship who comes into the prison to visit prisoners sat down with me and explained what God had done through Jesus. He told me that God had called me and given me new life. Even when I forgot Him and abandoned Him, He never left me - such is God's love for me.