I
Forgive my poor spelling and grammar. English is not my native language.
This is quite shocking. So really, you shouldn't have to read this unless you feel that God might not forgive you.
I used to be an atheist. Even though I've been raised with a polytheist religion (Hinduism), I never acknowledged a God or Gods besides myself. Because my parents separated through a heated divorce, my mother, sister and I had to live in a shelter for abused women for almost 2 years. We had barely anything, but we survived.
When we got a 'home', two years later, my brother came back to live with us, trying together with my mother to supply my sisters needs and mine. Because of the rough times, there were many occasions we literally had to steal to eat and pay the bills, even while my mother and brother worked hard at a factory. My mothers brothers were and are still, professional criminals. To aid my mother, they brought supplies and helped her in anyway they could. They taught me how to be a man, when I was not even close to 11. I was supposed to bring in money for my family, so I was send to England with 2 large packs of brown substance attached to my body on a boat, where "family" would pick me up. I was a drug dealer even before I knew what drugs meant.
Because education in the Netherlands is obligatorily by Law, I had to attend school. However, the lust for money started to grow as I came aware of the trips I was making. Stealing, fighting and telling lies became my first nature and I became more rotten as I grew into puberty. As I was a good "student" in crime, it didn't took long for I had my first arrest and juvenile prison awaited for me soon after. Alcohol, cocaine snorting, XTC, marijuana, LSD. I used them, abused them, bought, sold and made my fortune of them.
When I was fifteen, I received a letter from my father, who told me about the criminal behavior of my uncles. He wanted a good life for me and wanted to talk to me. For he had money and property, I only saw the signs of quick fortune, for he was not my father anymore. He abandoned me, left me in hell and he was responsible for what I've had become. We argued on our first meeting, I said things about how he could rather hang himself than to face me again some day. Than he died, just all in suddenness.
When he laid in his coffin, I can still remember how much I hated him back then. I even smiled, sincere at that time for his death. While I grew older, family started to notice how much I resembled like him in looks and doings, I started to hate myself more and more. I hated my reflection, I hated my life. Schools, Social workers all claimed I was already doomed, doomed to end up in prison and never made anything in my life as a honorable person. It was then, I decided to become the best in being the worst.
I generated money, from drugs, extortion, conning, theft and often with a lot of violence. Going to prison became an event that was something I was already and always prepared for and I stopped minding going there. In fact, I saw it as the perfect chance to recruit new players for my ball game. I studied the older criminals, I learned new things, I trained and exercised and used a lot of drugs. It was here where I first used heroin.
During one of my sentences, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. It was too late, and nothing would be able to help her. I asked God, in my cell to do something. I threatened God, if he wouldn't do something I would kill a whole bunch of people. And when my mother died, slowly and in a lot of agony, I was escorted by five police officers to see her being cremated. Inside, I died.
Being so turned into myself, I became angry and even more violent. After my release, my current girlfriend of that time, decided to leave me for being to destructive for everyone around me. My brother was already an alcoholic, my sister did not approve my ways of life. I became more and more of an addict and because of hatred against closed doors, one day I sold everything in my home (for there was nothing to return to anyway) and left it. Each time I was so high, I became sooner or later suicidal.
Five years after that, there was nothing more left than a 800 euro per day addicted heroin junkie. I stole, I ripped, I no longer dealed, nor did I talked. I took methadon, the highest dose on a daily base (180mg the liquid version). Being on a "top 20 most violent perpetrators", having a noticeable position of number 7, I was a terrorist in China Town of The Hague. I was well known by the local police and made good acquaintances with other police forces scattered in the provinces around. I had no fear for police, no fear for God. I assumed death as a peace I did not deserved. I was told that cowards would do such things, and I was not a coward in my own eyes. Wasn't I the fear of people? Wasn't I good at being bad?
One day, after I robbed and stabbed an old lady. After taking her money out for some heroin and a bit of food, a young guy walked in our "hanging place", a building in the center of the Hague, which most people would walk by without noticing the huge amount of addicts and criminals inside it. He handed out folders, about a barbecue and that we all were invited to come there. "Hah, look at those idiots!", I remember myself speaking. "There must be something to gain there...", I remember myself thinking.
Most of the beggers were gone to the barbeque and since I already had my fix, I decided there was nothing wrong with some meat and wallets. After I got to the place, there was a force there I didn't understand at all. It was like I were hypnotized, people were being kind to me, while I still looked quite "unfriendly", serving me with food. They started to sing about Jesus and I felt comfortable for the first time in years.
Once I got outside, an old friend from jail, whom I respected told me his testimony. He said to me, "The thing I tried to figure out for 20 years, I am going to reveal this to you in 3 words. JESUS HELP ME, thats all." Being confused, I walked away. I started to walk and walk, until the night appeared. I started yelling in the light of moon, yelling at God, hating and cursing. It was then, when I was on my own, that I blacked out.
Next morning I was "found" by two men who organized the barbecue. They told me that the Lord had send them to aid me. I was confused. I did not understand why these strangers cared or thought they were send by some fictional creature.They literally washed me, clothed me and helped to go through a 'cold turkey'. The pain was unimaginable, for I had been destroying my body for years and now the sedative was wearing off. I remember they read from the Bible and at a specific part, the story was about a person who wanted to be baptized in a nearby ditch. I asked them what this baptism meant and they told me about Jesus. I asked to be baptized and the two men were confused for they were just young in their ministry service. "We can organize a baptism in two weeks, then you will be fine as well and feel a lot better too!", "A baptism isn't something you should take lightly", they responded. I asked them if they could baptize me and they did. What I did not realized I was asking to be baptized on the Pentecostal day.
After the blessing, I went under water. After I had risen from the water, my pain and the side effects of my cold turkey agonies, disappeared. I followed various programs and became slowly, but dedicated a follower of the Lord. I tried, I failed, I tried and failed again. I tried, failed and even when I tried to give up, some how I was leaded back again. Only two years after my following, I really understood the meanings of the cross, how much the Lord had done for me. And at that Christmas eve, my eyes poured out and I felt pain, emotional pain and my sin became clear. I asked the Lord for forgiveness, truly and honestly. My eyes closed and for a second, I tried to open them, a fierce ball of white object came straight at me and hit me with the most electrifying, warmest and unimaginable striking light, surrounding me everywhere. As if I wasn't overwhelmed already I heard the voice "I forgive you".
I have never questioned the Lord since and I can say from personal experience, He is real and He is King. He has forgiven me, a criminal, a thief, a drug dealer, a liar, a murderer and worst of all, a blasphemer. Imagine what He can do for you.
I have two shops now and I make an earnest living and I try to serve the Lord where He wants me to be His tool.
May the Lord bless you all.
This is quite shocking. So really, you shouldn't have to read this unless you feel that God might not forgive you.
I used to be an atheist. Even though I've been raised with a polytheist religion (Hinduism), I never acknowledged a God or Gods besides myself. Because my parents separated through a heated divorce, my mother, sister and I had to live in a shelter for abused women for almost 2 years. We had barely anything, but we survived.
When we got a 'home', two years later, my brother came back to live with us, trying together with my mother to supply my sisters needs and mine. Because of the rough times, there were many occasions we literally had to steal to eat and pay the bills, even while my mother and brother worked hard at a factory. My mothers brothers were and are still, professional criminals. To aid my mother, they brought supplies and helped her in anyway they could. They taught me how to be a man, when I was not even close to 11. I was supposed to bring in money for my family, so I was send to England with 2 large packs of brown substance attached to my body on a boat, where "family" would pick me up. I was a drug dealer even before I knew what drugs meant.
Because education in the Netherlands is obligatorily by Law, I had to attend school. However, the lust for money started to grow as I came aware of the trips I was making. Stealing, fighting and telling lies became my first nature and I became more rotten as I grew into puberty. As I was a good "student" in crime, it didn't took long for I had my first arrest and juvenile prison awaited for me soon after. Alcohol, cocaine snorting, XTC, marijuana, LSD. I used them, abused them, bought, sold and made my fortune of them.
When I was fifteen, I received a letter from my father, who told me about the criminal behavior of my uncles. He wanted a good life for me and wanted to talk to me. For he had money and property, I only saw the signs of quick fortune, for he was not my father anymore. He abandoned me, left me in hell and he was responsible for what I've had become. We argued on our first meeting, I said things about how he could rather hang himself than to face me again some day. Than he died, just all in suddenness.
When he laid in his coffin, I can still remember how much I hated him back then. I even smiled, sincere at that time for his death. While I grew older, family started to notice how much I resembled like him in looks and doings, I started to hate myself more and more. I hated my reflection, I hated my life. Schools, Social workers all claimed I was already doomed, doomed to end up in prison and never made anything in my life as a honorable person. It was then, I decided to become the best in being the worst.
I generated money, from drugs, extortion, conning, theft and often with a lot of violence. Going to prison became an event that was something I was already and always prepared for and I stopped minding going there. In fact, I saw it as the perfect chance to recruit new players for my ball game. I studied the older criminals, I learned new things, I trained and exercised and used a lot of drugs. It was here where I first used heroin.
During one of my sentences, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. It was too late, and nothing would be able to help her. I asked God, in my cell to do something. I threatened God, if he wouldn't do something I would kill a whole bunch of people. And when my mother died, slowly and in a lot of agony, I was escorted by five police officers to see her being cremated. Inside, I died.
Being so turned into myself, I became angry and even more violent. After my release, my current girlfriend of that time, decided to leave me for being to destructive for everyone around me. My brother was already an alcoholic, my sister did not approve my ways of life. I became more and more of an addict and because of hatred against closed doors, one day I sold everything in my home (for there was nothing to return to anyway) and left it. Each time I was so high, I became sooner or later suicidal.
Five years after that, there was nothing more left than a 800 euro per day addicted heroin junkie. I stole, I ripped, I no longer dealed, nor did I talked. I took methadon, the highest dose on a daily base (180mg the liquid version). Being on a "top 20 most violent perpetrators", having a noticeable position of number 7, I was a terrorist in China Town of The Hague. I was well known by the local police and made good acquaintances with other police forces scattered in the provinces around. I had no fear for police, no fear for God. I assumed death as a peace I did not deserved. I was told that cowards would do such things, and I was not a coward in my own eyes. Wasn't I the fear of people? Wasn't I good at being bad?
One day, after I robbed and stabbed an old lady. After taking her money out for some heroin and a bit of food, a young guy walked in our "hanging place", a building in the center of the Hague, which most people would walk by without noticing the huge amount of addicts and criminals inside it. He handed out folders, about a barbecue and that we all were invited to come there. "Hah, look at those idiots!", I remember myself speaking. "There must be something to gain there...", I remember myself thinking.
Most of the beggers were gone to the barbeque and since I already had my fix, I decided there was nothing wrong with some meat and wallets. After I got to the place, there was a force there I didn't understand at all. It was like I were hypnotized, people were being kind to me, while I still looked quite "unfriendly", serving me with food. They started to sing about Jesus and I felt comfortable for the first time in years.
Once I got outside, an old friend from jail, whom I respected told me his testimony. He said to me, "The thing I tried to figure out for 20 years, I am going to reveal this to you in 3 words. JESUS HELP ME, thats all." Being confused, I walked away. I started to walk and walk, until the night appeared. I started yelling in the light of moon, yelling at God, hating and cursing. It was then, when I was on my own, that I blacked out.
Next morning I was "found" by two men who organized the barbecue. They told me that the Lord had send them to aid me. I was confused. I did not understand why these strangers cared or thought they were send by some fictional creature.They literally washed me, clothed me and helped to go through a 'cold turkey'. The pain was unimaginable, for I had been destroying my body for years and now the sedative was wearing off. I remember they read from the Bible and at a specific part, the story was about a person who wanted to be baptized in a nearby ditch. I asked them what this baptism meant and they told me about Jesus. I asked to be baptized and the two men were confused for they were just young in their ministry service. "We can organize a baptism in two weeks, then you will be fine as well and feel a lot better too!", "A baptism isn't something you should take lightly", they responded. I asked them if they could baptize me and they did. What I did not realized I was asking to be baptized on the Pentecostal day.
After the blessing, I went under water. After I had risen from the water, my pain and the side effects of my cold turkey agonies, disappeared. I followed various programs and became slowly, but dedicated a follower of the Lord. I tried, I failed, I tried and failed again. I tried, failed and even when I tried to give up, some how I was leaded back again. Only two years after my following, I really understood the meanings of the cross, how much the Lord had done for me. And at that Christmas eve, my eyes poured out and I felt pain, emotional pain and my sin became clear. I asked the Lord for forgiveness, truly and honestly. My eyes closed and for a second, I tried to open them, a fierce ball of white object came straight at me and hit me with the most electrifying, warmest and unimaginable striking light, surrounding me everywhere. As if I wasn't overwhelmed already I heard the voice "I forgive you".
I have never questioned the Lord since and I can say from personal experience, He is real and He is King. He has forgiven me, a criminal, a thief, a drug dealer, a liar, a murderer and worst of all, a blasphemer. Imagine what He can do for you.
I have two shops now and I make an earnest living and I try to serve the Lord where He wants me to be His tool.
May the Lord bless you all.
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