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Michael, my testimony

Started by Summicron, November 20, 2007, 08:19:11 PM

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November 20, 2007, 08:19:11 PM Last Edit: November 23, 2007, 07:55:34 PM by Summicron
My mother must have prayed for me, every Sunday I was ushered off to church and then Sunday school regularly. Mum died when I was eight, she was the matron of a local hospital way back in the early fifties. One day she went to work and didn't come home, she went into an isolation ward, to see to a patient, forgot her face mask, she came out with anthrax.
   Well she did come home, but was confined to my front bedroom, and only the doctor could go in and see her, I never got to say goodbye, and didn't know what to do after she had passed away, I remember that I never cried, I don't know why, I just didn't.

   Childhood is just a few vague memories, certainly no intimate details, there is a photograph of me with my mums arm round me sat on a beach at Grange over Sands, her left arm is in traction, she must have badly broken it, I've no memory of either that holiday or her arm being broken.
   After mum died I became the bane of my dads life, it seemed I couldn't do right for doing wrong, the first thing he wanted to do was put me in a children's home, out of his way, I had a choice, either go to a children's home, or give up my birthright like Esau and be a slave in my own home.
   Well anything seemed better than loosing my home as well as mum, so that was it, I came home from school each night, did all the household chores, cleaning out the fireplace and setting the fire seemed to be the biggest and most tedious job. The most arduous task was chopping the sackfulls of firewood dad used to bring home almost every night, and within days it would all be gone, even though I used only a handful of sticks to get the fire going.
   From what's been revealed to me, he must have been selling the wood to keep him in cigarettes, and probably whiskey, as there was always a soda siphon in the house. I did love my dad, but the fear of his awful and violent anger made me shy away from his presence, I don't remember having any friends at home or at school, so I grew up a loner, and as a teenager, and well into my thirties I would hide in my bedroom, just trying to keep out of my dads way in case something I did or said would bring on another shouting match.
   I came to know Jesus in a graveyard after one particularly bad argument, I ended up smashing the house up, after dad had been out, and come home, he went straight to the bathroom, and went ballistic at the hot water tap dripping, he ranted on for half an hour until I really lost it. I left the house, didn't know where I was going, but the result of that was a prison sentence, then probation and a heavy fine. So I never went back or talked to my dad again, never even went to his funeral.
   Well when I walked out of the house, I ended up in Clitheroe, I felt suicidal, but decided to get some help from some people in Preston, began walking there, and got to a Catholic church yard in the early hours of the morning, sat huddled up in the church yard staring at a white crucifix headstone.
   Then was it a voice inside my head? I don't know, but it was God speaking, that I do know. He said, "Michael, I want you to turn to me." I said, "Anyone can turn to God when they're in trouble." God didn't argue His voice came again just as quietly. "I want you to turn to Me." I just said, "If you'll help me now I will give my life to you." That was it, God must have taken over the reigns, no there weren't any rapturous feelings of God's bliss or peace, life seemed to go from bad to worse, but then things began to happen.
   Whilst living in some digs, I got so depressed, I took an overdose of tranquillisers, something and nothing, knocked me out for a while, but then I decided to telephone, a friend, who was in a depressives group, told them how I was feeling, and got invited over for a few days. This couple were a Vicar and his wife, now Christine the Vicar's wife was a Born again Christian, and one evening, she got round to telling me about becoming a Christian, as I listened, something me wanted to shout out, "If what you are telling me is true, then I must already be a Christian, because that was my experience in that graveyard," but as usual I held back. She gave me a booklet by Norman Warren, Journey into Life. Yes I did use that book to make a conscious commitment to Jesus, in the quiet of that rundown digs. That's my testimony.
   No there has never been that rapturous excitement, that many new Christian's claim to have had, when they were converted, if anything, life seemed to go from bad to worse. My Christian walk seems to have been tumultuous to say the least, I've been down in the depths, I often feel like I'm always on the outside looking in when it comes to companionship, and Christian fellowship, I'm not the easiest person to get along with. I still feel like I can't do right for doing wrong. But God's there still guiding my life.
   I've been and seen places I'd never thought I even wanted to go, and always God has been there, found Christian fellowship in the most remarkable places, got taken in by a Christian family, and became a surrogate granddad to seven children.
   Now I'm Here sharing this with you, brothers and sisters in Christ from all parts of the globe, I wanted a place where I could share my photography, and my thoughts on photography, and this is the place God found for me.
   May God bless you all In Christ Jesus our Lord, Michael.
   Here's that photograph I mentioned, I don't remember this at all.

Etta Sue

Michael, it has been so long since I have read the testimonies here that I couldn't find yours at first. 

Isn't it wonderful that God finds us....even when we aren't looking for Him?  Do you ever wonder how you got along without God?  I know I do.  I don't feel I have ever been at the bottom but I do attend the 'school of hard knocks' once in awhile and often wonder, why me?  Then I remember that God won't give us more than we can't handle and I am reminded that I am not alone and I don't have to go through my trials and errors without Him.  God is good....all the time.  All the time....God is good.


Michael, how wonderful to read your testimony!  I'm so sorry that you had such a difficult life but how wonderful that our Lord and Master has brought you through it so that you can now shout it out from the mountain tops that you are saved and that Jesus is Lord and Master of your life!  What a wonderful thought!  We do have a wonderful Saviour, Michael.

I want to thank you so much for sharing this with us.  God bless you.

(I remember setting the fire too when I lived in Belfast!  How I disliked that job at first but I grew to love it as it became an "art" to me to set that fire and be able to light it with one match and then keep it going for the next few days by putting slack on it late at night, drenching the slack with the tea left over in the tea pot causing the slack to become like concrete concealing the fire underneath, and then using the poker in the morning to break all the hardened slack apart revealing the lovely red hot embers and what a great fire we'd have to warm the room early in the morning!  Isn't this like our Lord Jesus?   He is always there to stir up inside us the wonderful message of the Cross where He suffered for you and me.)

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Thank you so much Michael for sharing your testimony here with us. God is so good, He is always there with us through thick and thin, in good times and bad times. I know I have had so many of those bad times but I never wondered where God was. He will never leave us nor forsake us. Hallelujah.
"Good people take care of their animals, but even the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel" Prov. 12:10
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