Helen D's Story
We were a family that went to church for weddings and funerals, and I grew up thinking that if Father Christmas wasn’t real then Father God wasn’t likely to be either.
My parents got divorced when I was in my early 20’s, they both remarried, my Mom married a man who had been a Christian but had let things slide, he told her he wanted to ‘renew his walk with the Lord’, she thought , ‘well ok, I’ll paint my nails or something while he’s doing that’.
A few weeks later she phoned me to tell me she was ‘born again’, she may as well have told me she’d joined the Moonies - I just thought she was nuts.
A few years later my life was a mess, I was in the middle of a divorce myself and the husband I was leaving found out he had cancer. My Mom was also having treatment for breast cancer- although she seemed remarkably calm about it, could it be she knew something I didn’t?
One particularly difficult evening, I was weepy and feeling guilty and fearful, I remember sitting in my living room looking at the ceiling and saying, in a very bad tempered voice; ‘Ok, if there is anyone there will you please come and sort this mess out!’
Not a terribly gracious invitation! There were no voices from heaven, no angelic appearances, but I did stop crying, got up, put the kettle on, a friend phoned and came to see me, and from that moment on, sitting there with my cup of coffee, I had to admit my prayer had been heard. I just knew there was a God who was listening to me, it was my first step.