My prayerful hope in writing this is to encourage men and women that God is faithful, sovereign over salvation, and can take the worst of men and use them for good.
Just over eight years ago I was 35 and living a wild and barbaric lifestyle. I was heathen to the core, believing in Norse gods, considering myself a modern-day Viking. I was angry, aggressive, and violent. I would carry a knife around. I was addicted to steroids, painkillers, pornography, and all forms of sexual immorality.
I was living in north Devon with my then-girlfriend, Celia. We had moved there from southwest London to escape the drug and alcohol addiction that had been consuming me.
Celia was also not a believer, but she had always loved reading about religion, either ancient or modern. She saw an article claiming that if you want to disprove Christianity, then you should read the Gospels. You’d see the inconsistencies and the whole game would be up.
Celia downloaded a Bible app, and in the dead of night while in bed, she worked her way through the four Gospels. She saw no inconsistencies in the Gospel accounts. She saw her need of the Jesus they presented to her. She believed. Round about this time I had just nearly died twice from overdosing on codeine. I was in a desperate state, and knew I needed help.
