It’s been 27 years since Jesus visited me in a small room where I was still under the effects of drugs.

I was from a different faith background and used to pray regularly to a god that felt far off, even…severe. I was in the military and using drugs; I started to have severe emotional, psychological, and physical symptoms to the point that I was

considering taking my own life. Time and again in prayer I asked God to help me but there was no response—no help—just silence.

Then one Tuesday I talked with my cousin, a close friend who also happened to be a Christian. “I am sick and tired,” I told him. “I don’t know what to do.” He replied, “I know someone who loves you and who will heal you.”

“How can he love me?” I replied skeptically. “How can he heal me? He doesn’t know me.”

But I was desperate.

My cousin told me what to do next. “Go to your home. Go to your room and close your door and call him, his name is Jesus.”

So I went home. I went to my room, and I closed the door. Still high off the drugs I had taken earlier, somehow the words loves you floated into my muddled psyche.

I’ll try, I thought. I will try and call on this one who loves me.

“Jesus,” I said. “Now I come to call on you, the one my cousin said I should call for, and I ask you to make me sleep.” Thinking only five minutes had passed by, I

opened my eyes.

What I saw can only be described as a miracle and answer to prayer. It was the morning light, and it was shining into my room. It was Wednesday. I will never

forget—it was Wednesday, and not only had I slept through the night unaware, but the power of the drugs which had been pulsing through my veins was gone. The peace was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Later that day I remembered that Wednesday was the day Christians usually met for prayer, so I went to the city and began searching for their gathering place. I found it and went in, sitting in the back and staring in wonder at the worship,

prayer, and teaching.

My heart was racing, my hands sweating. I had never seen anything like it in a place of worship and wasn’t even sure what was happening in front of me. But I did hear clearly when the pastor said “If you want to give your life for God, close

your eyes and raise your hand.” I felt compelled so I closed my eyes and raised my hand.

While the pastor prayed I saw a vision of a river coming towards me. I felt the water touch me, and immediately I fell on the floor. In my vision, tears streamed down my face. And that was it. These were the moments I was met by Him. My whole life changed. The power of drugs was gone; the desire for even a cigarette—gone. Since then my life has been in Christ the Messiah.

Editor’s note—After his transformation, the author began attending the prayer meetings every week, serving on the worship team and eventually writing worship songs that are now played during services. He met his wife there, too,

and in 2001, they sensed the Lord calling them to serve in ministry. Within a year the congregation had grown to 300 believers, and the couple has helped plant 14 congregations so far.

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This is just one example and one testimony of a miraculous transformation of a leader who cannot be named, who works in a place most of us could never go.

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