I’ve been in church all my life, about 44 years. But although I was raised in a Christian household, I didn’t truly want Christ. Church was around me, but it wasn’t in me. I wanted the things of the world: girls, money, and friends. I wasn’t searching for Christ, but the truth is, He was always searching for me, always calling my name.
Looking back now, I can see there was a crossroads in my life, a point where I couldn’t run from or ignore the call any longer.
In 2002, my daughter was born, one of the greatest blessings in my life. I wanted to be a good father, but there were still voices telling me I was young and needed to live my life. So I planned a trip to Jamaica with some friends and my cousin. I told my parents we were going to a youth week at my uncle’s church and would be in service every night, but that wasn’t the truth.
The real reason for the trip was to party, drink, and chase women.
We were having a great time until Friday, when I broke my toe. I had to go and find my aunty, who was at church. I walked into the house of the Lord in a string vest and shorts, not caring how I looked. I just needed help.
But the help I received wasn’t what I expected.
As I entered, the man of God was preaching. For some reason, he stopped and began to preach directly to me. I wasn’t interested. I had already made up my mind that church wasn’t for me. But he continued, and said he would stop if I came to the altar.
So I went.
And right there at that altar, God met me.
I was filled with the Holy Ghost. God saved me. I was someone who didn’t believe, someone who wasn’t even baptised, and God still reached me.
That’s why I can say today: when He wasn’t on my mind, I was always on His.
Two years later, I was baptised, and I’ve never looked back.
I share this to remind someone that God is a God of second chances. No matter where you are or what you’ve done, He is still calling you. He loves us more than we could ever love ourselves.