Before I came to St Margarets, I’d never really been to Church. I’d been to the odd Christening or wedding, but those were the only times.

Like a lot of other people I believed in God, but so what? That didn’t mean I had to go to Church. I’d never really thought too much about it.

I got married to Colin just before I became twenty. We had three children. When I was in my thirties we divorced. It was just one of those things that happened.

On my own

So, after twelve years I was on my own with three children. I started going around with friends in the same situation as me. Each weekend we would go to the pubs or a night club and for a while that satisfied me. I was starting to enjoy myself but every now and again I would feel that something was missing in my life, but I couldn’t work out what it was. I’d had quite a few disappointments over the years and I was getting bored.

I started to take a long look at myself and didn’t like what I saw. I asked my friends about going to Church, but they just laughed and said they thought I was cracking up. So I put the thought out of my mind. I got a couple of part time jobs which I enjoyed doing. It was nice to get back to work.

Walking by

I often saw a couple walk past by house as they went to Church and I asked them if I could go. They called round for me the following week but I still did not go.

Every Sunday evening I used to watch a programme on channel 4. I switched on the next Sunday and Songs of Praise came on. I was about to change channel but something stopped me. I can’t remember what they were singing but I know it was really lovely. Their were all these people in a shopping precinct in Milton Keynes. They looked so happy and oblivious to all around them.

I watched Songs of Praise for several weeks and I often found myself crying. I suddenly realised what I was missing from my life…….It was God!  So I arranged with the couple I had met before to call for me the following Sunday.

In the row in front of me I noticed a woman, I had never seen her before. Two weeks later at work the supervisor came up to me with a new lady that had started the same shift. I told her that I had seen her at St Margarets and we became friends. It was Shirley who taught me about Jesus and it was with her and Lorna that I gave my life to the Lord.

Being a Christian

A lot has happened since then. I joined a house-group, I’ve been confirmed and I help in Young Church. I am not saying that since I became a Christian all my problems have disappeared but now I can face them. I know God will always be there for me in the good times and in the bad times. He never leaves me.

Friends and family

Over the next few years, my friend Sylvia and Colin (my ex-husband) come to the Lord. My eldest daughter, Katrina, was confirmed and her husband and three children now come to Church too.

I will always remember that:

Because he lives I can face tomorrow.
Because he lives all fear is gone.
Because I know who holds the future
and life is worth the living just because He lives

My first few years in this life were normal, until I lost my father when I was four. The following year my mother died. My memory of this is a haze, leaving me and my brother who is eight years older than me. My brother was sent to an aunt in Cambridge and I never saw him again until I was ten.

As nobody really knew what to do with me, I was sent to an aunt and uncle who said they would lovingly take care of me, so at the age of five a new life beckoned.

I soon realized the loving was to be omitted. My aunt ruled with an iron fist. I used to runaway to my aunt Ethel. This was a weekly event, so finally my aunt and uncle packed my bags and sent me to my aunt Ethel. She was going to adopt me. Social services told her this was not practical though, as she only had a two bed roomed house and, as she had a son, they would not allow us to share a bedroom.

But another aunt, who lived just outside Hull, said she would take me in as she had a bigger house, even though she had two daughters. I would have my own room. I stayed there for about a year, then a social worker came out of the blue and took me to yet another home. This turned out to be a children’s’ home about twenty miles from Hull. I was eight years old by this time, and a rebel!! When I got to the children’s’ home, I met other children who, like me, were there because nobody wanted them. This created a bond between us all, it was them and us. At school we stuck together when possible. If one got into a fight with an outsider the rest of as joined in; we would close ranks. In the home life was strict and getting hit and punished was a daily thing.

Then one day I was told to pack my bags as I was moving, this time to a place called Malton, in another part of Yorkshire. I was told a couple wanted to foster a boy as company for their son, so the day came and I was eager to set off on another adventure. They were Quakers, and went to Church every week. I did not think much of this idea as my memory of going to church at the children’s’ home was of a vicar ranting and raving from a high pulpit, but the Quakers seemed to sit in silence most of the time. Once again though I found that they lived by strict rules, and did not spare the rod, so l rebelled against them and their religion. I found myself back at the children’s’ home.

Not for long though. I was fostered out to a widow. I stayed there for three years until I left school. During this time she also brought me up on a strict diet of me doing the chores for her and getting a weekly dose of punishment. By this time I was used to it and did not expect anything different. I used to talk to God. I knew that when I asked God for help, (it was usually before I was going to get a slap,) he would be with me. (I would just get shouted at instead).

Leaving school I had many difficult experiences, as I had no family to turn to I had only seen my aunt Ethel and my brother twice since I had been taken into the children’s’ home. But I talked to God and things seemed to be a lot clearer. Having no roots and nowhere to live I joined the army. I enjoyed this life, and when things went wrong or the situation got bad, I always asked God for help, which he always gave, but like a lot of people I always forgot to say thank you to him when things improved.

Through the early part of my adult life, marriage, children, relationships, the same scenario happened – things not working out, but yet there always seemed to be someone there when I needed help.

As the church family knows I am Wendy’s ex-husband. We were married for twelve years, but like all through my life, things did not work out. There were many reasons why the marriage did not work, a lot to do with me, as I was very selfish, and tended to walk away from things if there were any threats in my life. I could not cope with emotional problems; I was very hard and did not have time for people who were emotional. So a divorce happened, but we kept in touch.

After a few more years of my rebellious life, and more let downs, I got to a stage in my life when I had just had enough, so I took twenty- two DF118 very powerful painkilling tablets. Fortunately friends found me about six hours after l had taken them, and took me to hospital. The doctor checked me over and said I would be okay. He also said, “you must have a guardian angel looking after you, because you should have gone into a coma and that would have been that”

Eighteen months later I took myself to hospital again, because I had been getting bad heartburn which would not go away. I stayed in hospital for a week, as I had had a heart attack which was brought on by high cholesterol.

A few months after this I saw Wendy, and she seemed to be a changed person. her lifestyle was different. She said she was going to church, and she knew God Well, knowing Wendy, this really surprised me. I was talking to a different person than the one I knew. Anyway, she invited me to church, so after a few weeks thinking about it, I came along, and the rest is history.

Looking back on my life, especially my childhood, God has always been with me. He has been there when I thought I would never get out of situations; he always had his hands out to guide me, never turning his back on me, God was always with me, and I never knew. I certainly did not deserve his love.

This may seem a long story, and I have left a lot out. Sometimes when l am in church, I look around, and think I must be the worst sinner here, as l have done many nasty things in my life, especially during my army career, and through my marriage. I have broken all the ten commandments and before God called me I was a “nasty piece of work.” I am being honest here! But God took my hands, and led me to where l am today. I still have a long way to go, but with Gods guidance I am now a much better person.

Until I came to church I had never come across a group of people who love you for who you are, who welcome you with open arms. I do still find this emotional part hard as I was and still am to some extent suspicious of people who show me love and compassion. To me the church family is my family, I love you all. Years ago I would have laughed at all this, because my heart was like stone, but I thank God for his mercy upon me.

In the years before l found God, I was searching for a meaning to my life. I have tried tarot cards, the occult and spiritual churches, but discarded them all as a waste of time.

My life now has some meaning; I know God is the answer! God bless you all!

There wasn’t a blinding flash of light, I seemed to drift into religion and to God. As a child I always suffered terribly from guilt, whenever I did anything wrong. It was only many years later that I could put a name to it – conscience.

Somebody once said that conscience is another name for God telling you when you have done wrong. And that made sense to me. After all, who else can tell you, deep inside, when you have done wrong?

About twenty to twenty-five years ago, before I met my wife, I used to always go to St. Margaret’s for the Christmas Eve service. I used to badger all my friends about the fact that we should all go to church on Christmas Eve. It was the only time of year I ever went to church, apart from funerals and weddings (where I only went because I was invited). But Christmas Eve I always went because I wanted to.

Then I met Lynne and she came along on my Christmas Eve visits to church. After a couple of years, it became a case of ‘Let’s go again, although it isn’t Christmas Eve.’ So, we went again in the New Year.

It was like God chipping away at me, nagging at me slowly. I had already been christened, as a child so there was a link there. My parents weren’t particularly religious although I always went to Sunday School. But I think that was more Mum and Dad getting us out of the house for a bit of piece and quiet instead of any religious beliefs.

God has given us so much with our wonderful children – a teenage son and twin daughters. It is so traditional for children to be difficult but our children have never, ever been ‘difficult’ so God has obviously blessed us here. We are bringing our children up as a Christian children, taking them to church every Sunday, and living Christian lives every day. Although them being Christian children is obviously very important to us, it is also very important to them – our son is a member of the church GAP group and plays in the church “rock band”, and our daughters were devastated when our vicar announced his retirement. These are (to us) good testimony to how close our children feel to their church.

There has not been anything outstanding where I could sit back and say, “Wow! That was God acting.” But I have these feelings in house group when we are sitting there praying – I sometimes feel, during the prayers, that I am so very, very insignificant. It is almost as if I am floating up above everyone else and that I am really small and they are extremely enormous, absolutely massive.

It is a real feeling of being worthless and is totally overwhelming. It only ever happens while I am in group prayers. It is like I am looking over a huge cliff, looking down, and feeling so far away from it all. And yet (and this is the weird bit), at the same time I feel so huge as well, like I have fallen over that cliff and I am not so much floating in the space before me but that I am completely filling up the whole of that space. It is such a strange feeling but so powerful as well. This is with my eyes closed. If I open them then the feeling disappears. Although God talks to me in private prayer, these feelings are in the presence of other people when they were praying and I feel small, yet absolutely massive at the same time

Sometimes, when our vicar or others are giving a sermon, it is like the sermon is directed at me personally – whatever the sermon is about is hitting a raw nerve in my life at that particular moment; and, like the prayer experience, I believe it is God talking to me through others.