I was born to an unbelieving home, which only deigned to give up Sunday sleep-ins for Christmas and Easter. However, I had a real awareness of God from an early age, which had me searching for more for even then Jesus had becme my hero. Initially I walked across a river to a nearby Sunday School, but after we moved house I had to cycle some 5-6 miles to get to church every Sunday. I was no angel, just seeking. Indeed, though only about eight years old, I was somewhat of a holy terror.

That fact almost cost my life when the Sunday School hired a double-decker bus to take us to a picnic and I went the entire route with my head hanging out the top front window, so I could shout at passersby. As we neared home, I withdrew my head and run downstairs. Seconds later, the bus hit a tree right where my head had been. I look back on that as a sign of God's hand on my early life.

At age 7 my father acquiesced to my Mom's spiritualism and submitted to the counsel of a spiritual healer, who "discerned" that he had a problem with his pancreas. Though I was still at home, some 1,000 miles away, I contracted a series of illnesses and pancreatic problems that set my life back for many subsequent years.

The years of childhood wound on, punctuated by many somewhat terrifying and oppressive moments of violence and abuse in the home, which I would rather not share as I am now fully reconciled to all concerned.

I was called up to serve in the army after school, where my yearning for truth really started to dig into my soul. A fellow soldier tried his best to witness to me, but failed to connect. Then the mom of my best friend cornered me: a rushed exchange of 5 minutes, before my friends dragged me away from the fanatic women. She told me in simplest terms that I had to grasp that Christ died for me and that I needed to repent and ask him into my life. I went back to my military base and did what I still do to this day: I walked the place flat as I inquired of God. Then I did as the crazy lady had said - I asked Jesus to be my saviour.

Although He came into my life with an almost imperceptible touch of His Spirit, the experience so radically changed my life that I dropped my girlfriend and all my other friends, to serve God. Shortly after that the same soldier, as earlier, told me that I also needed the Holy Spirit, the further dimension of God that would add power and conviction to my faith.

I prayed for two weeks, in my naive, blind faith, for the scriptures to be fulfilled. Then one Sunday evening I received such a mighty infilling that my parents thought I was possessed and rushed me to church. Many were bewildered by it all, but thanks to God's great timing, my mom, sister and the entire congregation were awakened, to start their own respective journeys of faith.

I later left my orthodox roots and joined a fellowship that was an offshoot of the Plymouth Brethren - very doctrinally correct and rather conservative, but the experience gave me solid foundations and the opportunity to prove a ministry - which I did with unstoppable zeal.

It was around that time that I had another brush with death as a truck crossed my path as I was overtaking it. To avoid a mountain of tar ahead I swered and started to spin as my momentum carried me off the road and over the edge. I ended up on all four wheels, but well below road level. A passerby ran to me and asked if I was okay. I responded by switching on the radio, which was working and then I tried the ignition and the car started. Finally I suggested that the small crowd of witnesses try and push me out of the hole back up to the road - I drove away with not a scratch on myself or the car, but I was deeply aware of God's hand on me.

Later I moved on again, because my conservative fellowship offered limited scope for wife hunting?? That led to a church which was more charismatic. Its popular appeal brought Paula and I together. Seven months after meeting, we married.

As all marriages go, the first few years were good, although I still struggled so much with the spiritual consequences of my childhood years. Then things started to unwind. Paula was frustrated by my immaturity and shallow leadership, largely because I had used my ministry to build a personal identity. The resulting chip on my shoulder was led to many hurts.

Some things cannot be shared further. Suffice to say that we faced very dark times over a period of ten years and then recovered only to be set back by a whole series of personal, financial and matrimonial crises that eventually brought us to our knees. In the process God cut my feet from under me and removed my crutches.

My days of ministry faded and my crises deepened, until we eventually lost everything. However, during those dark years God started to resolve a lifetime of issues, generational offences and many other deep spiritual problems. He also healed our once faltering marriage and did a deep work of restoration in Paula's heart, a work that welded our lives together in a way that only God could ever do.

As He interpreted my crises I began to write a daily journal. But the discipline of writing helped me to stand still, listen and record what God was saying to me. Over 5 years I wrote, rewrote and wrote again, until the mists started to clear and God started to restore our lives. In the process I wrote four books and my life started down a new direction that would define the rest of my life.

That was when I realised that none of this is about us. We all want to prove ourselves and be someone, but that is not God's heart. When we hold on to our identities, we remain royal game for the great serpent, but when we lay it all down and die to the greater cause of His eternal Kingdom, we find real purpose. That principle holds true for everyday believers, business people, church leaders, executives, social leaders ... all of whom will remain frustrated until they see their own lives as part of a far greater drama.

So today I stand, thanks to the priceless inputs and legacies left by all who went before me and the rich vein of truth that God provided through friends and family. I also stand side by side with my dearest compatriot, the wife of my years, who grew immeasurably through our tough times to be a true, equal partner and stakeholder in the greater thing that God is leading us into. Thank you Lord for bearing with me and carrying us when we were too weak. Thank you for delivering me and restoring our lives. My cup runs over - surely goodness and mercy will dwell with us always and we will stay in His house forever.

This I say in closing - God is faithful - whatever you are going through He will resolve and bring to a noble conclusion, for He is a redeeming, covenant keeping God who will never, ever forsake you.