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To even begin a testimony has never been one of my strong points, as I've grown accustomed to replying rather than voicing out my own opinion on my own accord.
Coming down to the origins of how I came to be here on my search for a better, deeper walk with God, seldom provides a chance to clear my throat as the words and memories choke back many attempts I've made to put down my testimony, and how I've come to be here.
I was born in India, but was moved over to Kuwait with my mother in hopes of a better life. Therein began parts of my journey in which I've looked back countless times and prayed to have not experienced, even though time has shown it to be for the better. Since an early age I was raised by my mother alone, my father was rarely at home as his roaming eyes for skirts and constantly dry lips searching for another bottle led him into one mess after another.
Ever free to give his opinion on how my mother and I had ruined his life with his fists, I grew up with the constant sights of red against skin and walls, though I'd have given everything up for it to have been me on the recieving ends of his venting, rather than my mother. In time I was enrolled at a local Christian school under the Evangelical Lighthouse Church, yet to my mind then, and still now at times, I failed to understand how God could be so lovign and compassionate towards His children, and yet still allow suffering and grief into their lives.
As the years passed by and I was transfered to one school after another, the hope of salvation which is promised to all of God's children becaem a dwindling dream, leading towards a fancifull notion as the anger, hate, envy and pride within seemed to become a greater driving force to my ambitions of leaving the pit in which I was born into. Plastering on a smile towards all at church whilst singing to God in which whom I slowly began to lose faith in, I began to lead a life in which I hated most of all, one of my father's.
At 14, I ran away from home as soon as he died in a car crash, and at the time I felt that his end didn't come soon enough. Substance abuse quickly followed and tormented me through a Jungian complex of wallong lower and lower in self pity and regret, fuelling my own carnal interests through half baked philosophical justification, I followed the path of any soilmate in which I believed my mind could dictate what my body would undergo. Purging my mind through the pain of undergoing strenuous labour by working long hours, rarely sleeping and waking up to a chemical haze felt right as a burden I should carry, past feelings and memories of what I had caused by coming into this world pushing me over the edge time and time again with thoughts and actions leading to a number fo failed suicide attempts. Being taken back by my mother time and time again, struggling to maintain a proper life with schooling and sobriety seemed too much to handle, and finally I though tof ending it all amidst the shambles of my life I had formed out of former actions and decisions, hanging myself like Judas out of guilt seemed right at the time. God has other plans in my life, and the guilt gave way to grief as my mother came and took me down. After some time I joined the Kairos youth group in Kuwait and slowly started to recieve healing from God through the fellowship of the youth around me and one of my mentors, Pastor Kyle.
Over the course of two years, God helped in the working back up to schooling, participating with the youth worship band and learning to look at myself through the eyes of God helped heal most of the scars I carried. When the time came to decide what to become out of my life, i was pointed towards social work and becoming a youth and addictions counselor to members of broken and troubled homes.
At times when looking back I can't help but smile at the irony in which this page of God's book has come to be. The addict coming to help the addicted. Guilt and shame both being powerfull weapons that the forces who try to pull us down into eternal perdition will never be those in which I can tear down with my own hands, but through the grace and strength of God we will all be carried over and triumph over hurdles we have in life.
There have been times I have stumbled and fallen during my journey, and I still go through the hardships of my former life and decisions at the time, but I pray that I carry on with God at my side. I have felt myself stray again over the past couple years, yet I will continue to pray that I hold onto the path. Even when times come pressign against me with their burdens, I pray that the former pride and wanting to control this physical shell over it's limits does not reach out to snare me.
I pray that God Shall continue to strengthen me until the day of reconing.
Coming down to the origins of how I came to be here on my search for a better, deeper walk with God, seldom provides a chance to clear my throat as the words and memories choke back many attempts I've made to put down my testimony, and how I've come to be here.
I was born in India, but was moved over to Kuwait with my mother in hopes of a better life. Therein began parts of my journey in which I've looked back countless times and prayed to have not experienced, even though time has shown it to be for the better. Since an early age I was raised by my mother alone, my father was rarely at home as his roaming eyes for skirts and constantly dry lips searching for another bottle led him into one mess after another.
Ever free to give his opinion on how my mother and I had ruined his life with his fists, I grew up with the constant sights of red against skin and walls, though I'd have given everything up for it to have been me on the recieving ends of his venting, rather than my mother. In time I was enrolled at a local Christian school under the Evangelical Lighthouse Church, yet to my mind then, and still now at times, I failed to understand how God could be so lovign and compassionate towards His children, and yet still allow suffering and grief into their lives.
As the years passed by and I was transfered to one school after another, the hope of salvation which is promised to all of God's children becaem a dwindling dream, leading towards a fancifull notion as the anger, hate, envy and pride within seemed to become a greater driving force to my ambitions of leaving the pit in which I was born into. Plastering on a smile towards all at church whilst singing to God in which whom I slowly began to lose faith in, I began to lead a life in which I hated most of all, one of my father's.
At 14, I ran away from home as soon as he died in a car crash, and at the time I felt that his end didn't come soon enough. Substance abuse quickly followed and tormented me through a Jungian complex of wallong lower and lower in self pity and regret, fuelling my own carnal interests through half baked philosophical justification, I followed the path of any soilmate in which I believed my mind could dictate what my body would undergo. Purging my mind through the pain of undergoing strenuous labour by working long hours, rarely sleeping and waking up to a chemical haze felt right as a burden I should carry, past feelings and memories of what I had caused by coming into this world pushing me over the edge time and time again with thoughts and actions leading to a number fo failed suicide attempts. Being taken back by my mother time and time again, struggling to maintain a proper life with schooling and sobriety seemed too much to handle, and finally I though tof ending it all amidst the shambles of my life I had formed out of former actions and decisions, hanging myself like Judas out of guilt seemed right at the time. God has other plans in my life, and the guilt gave way to grief as my mother came and took me down. After some time I joined the Kairos youth group in Kuwait and slowly started to recieve healing from God through the fellowship of the youth around me and one of my mentors, Pastor Kyle.
Over the course of two years, God helped in the working back up to schooling, participating with the youth worship band and learning to look at myself through the eyes of God helped heal most of the scars I carried. When the time came to decide what to become out of my life, i was pointed towards social work and becoming a youth and addictions counselor to members of broken and troubled homes.
At times when looking back I can't help but smile at the irony in which this page of God's book has come to be. The addict coming to help the addicted. Guilt and shame both being powerfull weapons that the forces who try to pull us down into eternal perdition will never be those in which I can tear down with my own hands, but through the grace and strength of God we will all be carried over and triumph over hurdles we have in life.
There have been times I have stumbled and fallen during my journey, and I still go through the hardships of my former life and decisions at the time, but I pray that I carry on with God at my side. I have felt myself stray again over the past couple years, yet I will continue to pray that I hold onto the path. Even when times come pressign against me with their burdens, I pray that the former pride and wanting to control this physical shell over it's limits does not reach out to snare me.
I pray that God Shall continue to strengthen me until the day of reconing.
