Divine Intervention: My Escape from Death in Prison

Divine Intervention: My Escape from Death in Prison

How I Miraculously Escaped from Death

I was just a little kid growing up in Cape Town, South Africa. When I was around 3, my dad died in a car accident. My amazing mom then sent me to boarding school at a young age. After finishing high school, I joined the army.

We weren’t a wealthy family, so I learned to make do with what we had since everything came at a cost. Life wasn’t easy back then. My single-parent mom worked as a nurse at the provincial hospital and did her best to raise me.

Since there wasn’t a father figure in my life, she tried to be both parents to me. But many times, I needed her to be just a loving and caring mom.

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Corporal punishment was pretty common at school and at home. Whenever I messed up or got into trouble—which happened quite often—I would get a huge spanking either from the principal or from my mom at home.  There were nights when I was left outside on the porch without dinner or a warm bed, all to teach me a lesson.
After my time in the military, I wanted to show everyone—especially my mom—that I could stand on my own two feet and be independent.
Little did I know how much I had changed from that innocent kid I once was? All those wrong beliefs, misguided teachings, and worldly temptations had slowly shaped me into someone else. Mental and psychological issues took over, and without the right values and principles in place, it was only a matter of time before I would stumble.

My Life Was a Mess


Divine Intervention

Photo from Pixabay by Whitesession.

My corporate career began promisingly, and I soon discovered my innate talent for entrepreneurship. As I traveled the world seeking business ventures and delving into the illegal diamond trade, life seemed glamorous and fulfilling. However, I failed to recognize how obsession, greed, and self-gratification were gradually taking over.
My life became consumed by materialism, immoral behaviors, and worldly pleasures. Lies and hidden agendas turned into second nature as I broke moral and ethical boundaries to close deals.
In 1994, a decision to steal from an investor and pocket the profits from illicit diamond sales set me on a destructive path. Compulsive gambling became my vice, leading me to VIP lists in casinos worldwide. The more I earned from my dealings, the more I craved to cover my gambling losses. My life spiraled into an unending cycle of making money and gambling it away – a life that had lost all control.

Pay Back Time Came Knocking

I squandered daily fortunes at the casino, oblivious to the immense void I was creating for myself. The thought that I was transgressing against God with each visit to the gambling den never occurred to me. For years, it seemed as though I had eluded the consequences of my actions. Nothing befell me—or so I believed.

However, in 2005, eleven years after committing my crime, a knock on my door shattered my illusion. The police stood before me, warrant in hand.

Under heavy surveillance, I was arrested and taken from my upscale Sandton residence in Johannesburg to Cape Town. There, I faced the magistrate in Goodwood Prison, who would inform me of the charges against me.

On the day of my court appearance, they escorted me to the Bellville Magistrates Court in Cape Town and placed me in ‘Die Gat’ (The Hole)—holding cells deep underground below the court building.

These cells housed hundreds of offenders and prisoners awaiting trial from all over the Western Cape.

The holding cells were dimly lit and perilous, each confining up to 100 hardened criminals—many of whom were repeat offenders on their second, third, fourth, or even fifth offense.

As a “Frans” (a person without a name or affiliation to any gang or Number), I was utterly alone in this unforgiving environment. My only means of survival was to “purchase” whatever I wanted or needed with whatever “commodity” I possessed.

From the dangerous prison cells of South Africa to the heart burning love of Jesus.

My transformation story

In my fine silk suit, tie, leather shoes, and gold watch, I stood out sharply as a white man. Little did I know that this attire would soon be a thing of the past.
That fateful day, I was viciously attacked by a gang from the Number Gangs. Stripped of all my possessions and brutally beaten, I was left with hardly any teeth remaining in my mouth.

 I Sensed Death Looming Near.


Eventually, the police showed up and got me out of that awful cell, moving me to a single one. It still reeked of urine, blood, waste, and death, but at least I was alone and safe for the time being.
Lying on that ice-cold cement floor, I couldn’t tell my tears apart from my blood. That’s when it hit me – I had really messed up. I wasn’t the powerful corporate executive who always had control over everything anymore.
Nor was I that young person at 16 who invited God into my life at the Youth Camp in Stellenbosch to be my Lord and Savior.
I had turned into someone I despised yet found strange comfort in. My wealth and connections to influential people made me feel powerful and in control. But deep down, I was rotten and didn’t even realize I was a criminal.
Though I called myself a Christian, I believed I could get through life on my own. Without even meaning to, I’d pushed away God so many times when all He wanted was to help me find my way back to the salvation I once cherished.

Prayer Sparked Transformation.


Devine intervention escape from death

Devine intervention


When I was sitting there on that prison floor, all the money and connections I had didn’t matter anymore. I had fallen from the high and lofty, well, respected corporate executive I used to be.

No more introducing foreign businessmen, diplomats, and government officials to South Africa. The only thing I still had was a Bible I brought to court that day.

And then, as I got down on my knees and asked God for forgiveness for everything I’d done and what I was thinking of doing to myself, my Bible just fell open to the Book of Hebrews. As I looked at those two pages in front of me, my eyes landed on Hebrews 10, starting at verse 34.
It said:
“You suffered along with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions.
So, don’t throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”
It felt like God showed up in that cell that day and spoke to me personally. I could feel His presence everywhere, and when I opened my eyes, it was like the whole cell was filled with His light.
Overwhelmed with shame, I got down on my knees and asked for forgiveness for all the wrongs I’d done to Him and everyone else.
And then, I prayed for help getting through the tough times ahead – promising that if He helped me, I would dedicate the rest of my life to serving Him.

The True Turning Point.

Long story short, I was found guilty of fraud and ended up spending seven years in six of South Africa’s toughest prisons.

I went from Goodwood to Pollsmoor, then to Mdantsane in East London, New Kimberley, Sun City (Johannesburg Central Prison), and finally Zonderwater Correctional Centre in Cullinan. That’s where I finished my Bachelor’s Degree in Systematic Theology.

Eventually, I became a Pastor for over 800 inmates at New Kimberley Correctional Centre and later at Zonderwater Prison.
But the real turning point for me was when I was lying on that freezing cement floor in “Die Gat” (The Hole) at the bottom of the Bellville Magistrates Court.
After a severe beating that almost cost me my life and losing everything but my Bible, I begged God for mercy and grace.
God saved my life many times while I was locked up, but one moment that really stands out was when I was standing in the courtyard of Pollsmoor Prison’s “Awaiting Trial” section – one of the most dangerous areas there.

The Dark Underworld of South African Prisons

As I grew accustomed to the rhythm of prison life, I made sure to keep my back to the walk-in for protection against personal threats.

I observed the Number Gangs, hardened criminals divided primarily into three groups: the 26s, 27s, and 28s, each more dangerous and ruthless than the last.

These Number Gangs are named for their specific functions within the prison system. The “number” represents not just a code of honor—although affiliating with a brutal criminal organization hardly seems honorable—but also a code that traces back decades in our history.

Interestingly, the origin of these gangs isn’t rooted in prison but rather in the mines, where workers needed identification in low-light areas.

The miners used these codes and a special language called “Number” to identify themselves according to their work level and conceal their activities. Eventually, some of these men were arrested and imprisoned, and they continued to use this code of association, conduct, and language, giving rise to today’s “Number Gangs.”

Nowadays, Number gangs exert control over prisons throughout South Africa. For many newcomers (“Franse”), joining a Number Gang becomes the only means of obtaining much-needed protection for survival.

Operating like military regiments, Number Gangs have rules, strategies, codes of conduct and language, discipline, and even ranks such as General, Colonel, Captain, Lieutenant, and Judges. These ensure that the gang’s code is enforced and respected within prison walls.

One day I witnessed a chilling event: a ‘sabella’ (a hit ordered on someone—typically resulting in bloodshed) carried out within the prison. This violent act occurs when anything or anyone threatens the Number’s territory or authority.

A Shocking Turn of Events


That day, as a lower-ranking member of one of the Number Gangs approached me in the courtyard, I steeled myself mentally and emotionally for a fight to the death. Time seemed to slow down as I questioned where I would end up if I died that day—heaven or hell? My son’s image flashed before my eyes, but I couldn’t afford to let my emotions take over.
I quickly drew upon my military training and martial arts experience, focusing on raw survival instincts and setting fear aside. The gang member wielded a large knife capable of causing severe harm, and I braced myself for the impending fight. Just then, the unexpected occurred.
Instead of turning on me, the would-be assassin attacked another prisoner nearby, stabbing him repeatedly. Amidst the chaos, I faced a choice: stand by and watch a fellow human die or intervene. I chose the latter, and this decision would change my life in prison forever.
Leaping into action like I was back on a military operation, I grabbed the attacker from behind, spun him around, and declared in a mix of prison Afrikaans that if he had to kill someone that day, he should take my life instead of the stranger.
To everyone’s astonishment, this white newcomer (“a Frans”) had interrupted a gang war to save a black man’s life. Shocked by my actions, the attacker dropped his knife and walked away.
Afterward, I helped the bleeding stranger up from the floor. He turned out to be the leader of the very same gang that was trying to kill me.

An Unlikely Salvation

That fateful night in our prison cell, I was summoned by the high-ranking members of the Number gangs, who demanded an explanation for my actions.
They were curious about my identity and the reason behind saving that man’s life. I confessed to being “a Frans” – a nobody, but that I couldn’t stand and watch a man being killed in front of me regardless of his gang affiliation, race, or greed.
By night’s end, the Number gangs granted me a pardon and bestowed upon me a bulletproof vest – ensuring protection and privileges during my time in Pollsmoor that were usually unattainable for someone like me.
To this day, I firmly believe that divine intervention saved me from certain death in that sinister world. It was through this experience that I managed to survive six of the country’s most infamous prisons.
Divine intervention

Divine intervention

My story jumped, as they say, over the walls from prison to prison and followed me as a testament to my willingness to help fellow inmates, regardless of our differences.
Upon leaving Pollsmoor and transferring to Mdantsane Prison in the Eastern Cape, I faced the cruel reality of incarceration. The harsh conditions inside forced me to adapt quickly to my brutal and dehumanizing surroundings. To survive, I had to employ every ounce of intellect in assisting fellow inmates with parole submissions, appeals, written motions, and other applications.
At the time, I didn’t fully grasp the situation. However, my suffering and isolation were undeniably part of a divine plan. It allowed me to rebuild my moral foundation, deepen my understanding of God’s Word, and develop obedience, surrender, compassion, commitment, and empathy toward others. Above all else, it led me to truly comprehend God’s nature and what it meant to be a devoted follower.

The Honour Program

Following my sentencing, I sought a transfer to Gauteng, where my grandparents were looking after my son. Regrettably, a mix-up by the authorities led me to become the first inmate in South Africa’s most modern prison facility. Alas, my time there was brief.
Ultimately, I was relocated to Zonderwater Correctional Centre. There, I embraced the crucial process of rehabilitation and embarked on my journey toward obtaining a Bachelor’s Degree in Systematic Theology. Additionally, I took up the role of an educator within the prison, assisting fellow inmates in acquiring reading and writing skills.

The Profound Influence of Spirituality in Recovery and Reassimilation


divine intervention


One night, I had this revelation – the words “Honor Program” came to me, and suddenly everything started to make sense. I mean, why do we have so much discrimination, corruption, gender-based violence, abuse, hatred, and anger in our country?
We’ve been trying to solve problems with our youth, schools, universities, and communities on our own without seeking divine guidance. It took me over seven years to write The Honor Program. In essence, it’s an advanced restorative justice intervention that focuses on rehabilitation through soul transformation.
When I left prison, I knew reintegration wouldn’t be easy for me as a white, middle-aged man without a strong support system or family and friends willing to help me start over. I realized that trusting God entirely was my only way out and staying focused on Jesus despite any pain or suffering.
One thing I’ve learned since leaving prison is that we can’t go through life alone; we need people to help others who might be struggling and desperate to get back on their feet.
I’ve got so many people to thank, aside from God, for saving my life after I left prison. There have been times when I just wanted to give up, but somehow, God always sent someone my way who was willing and able to help me see that there’s always hope – no matter how tough or complicated things get.
Life’s never a walk in the park when you don’t have a home and you have to rely on others for basic needs like shelter, transport, food, and clothes.
I’m really grateful that I had the chance to work as an Evangelist at African Enterprise for a few years. Sadly, though, my short-term contract ended in 2020. Just so you know, African Enterprise is this amazing ‘non-profit’ Christian Evangelical Missionary organization right in the heart of Pietermaritzburg, Kwa-Zulu Natal.
God has transformed my soul. He’s my Rock and my Salvation – I’ll trust Him until my last breath.
Thanks for reading my story. If it touched you in any way, I hope and pray that you’ll pass it on to someone who could benefit from this message.

If God has done something to change your life or save you from eternal death, I would encourage you, my friend, to step out in faith and share that message with others.  This is the one way we can be sure to draw unbelievers to Christ.

If you have not made Jesus your Lord and Savior, please do not waste time anymore. What shall it profit you if you gain the whole world and lose your soul in Hell? Mark 8:36.  Come to the loving arms of Jesus Christ. Repent of your sins and receive His forgiveness.

Please say this prayer if you have not made Jesus your Lord from the depth of your heart.

Lord, Jesus. I believe you are the son of God. I believe you died and rose again for my sins. You alone can save me. I am very sorry for my sins. I repent of my sins by your grace. Please forgive me and come into my life. Be my Lord and Savior.  Help me to grow and know you more. Thank you for saving me.

Now, work toward your confession and find a bible believing church. Commit by reading the bible daily and hearing the word with other believers.


In closing, if you feel led to help my ministry or in any way possible to get me back on my feet so that I might be in a position to introduce my program and teachings to more children in schools and offenders in prison, then please consider sending me a WhatsApp message to: +27 71 018 0768 or if you would like to send me an email to michaelgobel14@gmail.com

I would love to hear from you and would be honored if you would consider becoming a global supporter of my ministry Planting Hope Ministries.

How God Saved Me in Prison

God richly bless you!

Story from Pastor Gobel, South Africa.

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How God Saved My Father’s Life

How God Saved My Father’s Life

As I sit back to reflect on my life this time of the year, I can’t help but recall how God miraculously saved my father from death in 2017.

It was thick darkness. A man I barely recognized was dragging a piece of material with my father. They both pulled this thing for what seemed like forever. Fidgeting, I watched this struggle occur besides a gaping hole that this man was ferociously trying to push one of my siblings into. I Shriveled in fear at what might happen to my father. My feet were glued to the ground as the chills ran down my spine, and… behold, I opened my eyes. Ah! It was all a dream.

In real life, though, my dad had been involved in an age-long controversy over some land with some of his kin. I understood from the dream that what I had seen was related to that controversy. I woke up knowing that something terrible might happen. I called my father and asked him about the land. I asked him to please make peace, and resolve the issue.

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More Death Dreams

Some months passed, and again, I had another dream: my dad died, and my mom was in deep grief. Seeing how critical this is getting, I Immediately called my five sisters. We agreed to pray and fast for my dad.  I did not want to frighten my dad with my dreams, so I told him to be prayerful and careful. My sisters and I fasted, prayed, and believed that God had heard us.

Yet again, I had another horrible dream. This time around, my mum and dad were out of town. In guarding my parent’s house, a wise elder in my hometown sent his son to give me a message. The message says, “ Inform your father to set his home in order for he is going to die”. I woke up soaked in perspiration.  I was in utter despair and confusion, and my mind was spinning with a million and one questions.


More Death Dreams

Some months passed, and again, I had another dream: my dad died, and my mom was in deep grief. Seeing how critical this is getting, I Immediately called my five sisters. We agreed to pray and fast for my dad.  I did not want to frighten my dad with my dreams, so I told him to be prayerful and careful. My sisters and I fasted, prayed, and believed that God had heard us.

Yet again, I had another horrible dream. This time around, my mum and dad were out of town. In guarding my parent’s house, a wise elder in my hometown sent his son to give me a message. The message says, “ Inform your father to set his home in order for he is going to die”. I woke up soaked in perspiration.  I was in utter despair and confusion, and my mind was spinning with a million and one questions.


Dead in 7 days.

To add a cup of glaze over the confusion,  my younger sister called me a couple of weeks later. In a frantic tone,  she cascaded a gloomy prophecy she heard. “My husband went to his hometown,” she narrated, “ And decided to visit his longtime friend, a man of God. The man (of God)  vividly described our father, his family, and the recent occurrences in our family.” He said that my dad had recently lost his brother and was burying him ( which was accurate). He now said that my father’s life was in danger. That some close relative wanted him dead. He added that my dad was going to die in seven days if we did nothing. This man instructed that my father should bring some soil from the family home and come to see him for prayers. These words were swirling through my head at lightning speed. “Oh, not again.” I groaned.


A Prophesy From God?

Totally freaking out! my sister persuaded me that we needed to act urgently. “ Dad must go see this prophet immediately, along with everything he requested,” she beckoned.  

At first, I tried to dismiss the idea as a lie from the pit of hell, but  I was stunned by the degree of accuracy of his description of recent events. “Is this truly from God? But why should we bring some soil from the family home? Should my father go see him?” I had zillion questions.

But at that moment, I remembered something the late John Paul Jackson once said: “ Peace is the potting soil for revelation.” Trying to make sense of what I heard. Just then, as in a whisper, I heard in my spirit, “ Familiar Spirits.”  Familiar spirits? What on earth could they be?

Plunging to Google, I searched for familiar spirits. I found an article online that talked about familiar spirits in the church. The writer of that post went on to say that many prophetic voices in the church are disguised voices of the enemy. That gave me temporary relief.

Meanwhile, at my house, there was so much clamor about going to see this man of God. My sisters were on my neck to approve of this dangerous escapade. In fact, even my dad was fearfully preparing to go see this prophet. There was an urgent need for us to act, but deep within me, I felt this fear wasn’t from God.


Friend Asks Thought-Provoking Questions

Feeling hedged in, I asked God, “ What do you want me to do?”  We have prayed. We have fasted. Do we have to go to this prophet?  But you also hear our prayers. Besides, you said, “Whatever is not from faith is sin” (Romans 14:23).

In my turmoil, I asked my precious friend what she thought. I will never forget it!  She asked me about my deep convictions. Her many thought-provoking questions dug up my staunch beliefs about consulting said people to find answers (yes, I believe God gives instructions to his servants about issues, but for some unknown reasons, I couldn’t get myself into agreeing with this prophet’s instructions).

But this phrase from my friend was the last straw that kept me resolute in my decision. “ Maybe God is testing you to see how convinced you are of your conviction”

Hearing that response and seeing the hideous crimes many so-called prophets have rained on families, I was being careful to fall into error. I wanted  God’s will at all costs. With a fast again, I turned my face to the wall like King Hezekiah (2 Kings 20:1-11) and pleaded with the Lord for mercy.

I repented a million times for my father and asked the Lord to spare his life. However, he may have deserved death. I promised God, I would publish this story if he spared my father’s life. After much deliberation and praying, I instructed my father to go nowhere but only to fix his eyes on God.

Dear friends, It’s been over a year, and my father is very well and alive. Hallelujah!

Glory, Glory to God!

”I will glory in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice. I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame” (Psalm 34:2-5).

This is my Testimony. Hallelujah!



Lessons Learned from My Father’s Rescue Story

1. Yes, we may be ignorant about some things, but I realized God honors our faith when we apply His Words we already know, especially when we are desperately wanting to please Him.

2. We cannot overemphasize the importance of godly counsel in the grey areas of our lives; we are blessed to seek godly counsel from seasoned saints who we know to walk with the Lord. (Psalm 1:1)

3. Sometimes God does not answer yes, or no; he expects us to use the scriptures we know to discern His will for our situation

4. Fear is never from God. God may send a warning dream, but the interpretation, declaration, and application of the word may be subject to human error if we do not carefully compare it against the ways of God.

5. There are prophets, and there are “prophets”. How do we know which is which?

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me according to John 10:27-28. Diligently training ourselves in the word helps us recognize when an outlier is speaking.

6. In troubled times, we must set our minds on the Prince of Peace to receive revelation. The word:  “He keeps in Perfect Peace whose mind is stayed on Him” — (Isaiah 26:3) was one scripture I held tightly unto during this fierce windstorm.


I am forever grateful to our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ!


How God Saved My Father From Death




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Drugs Destroy; How God Saved Me

Drugs Destroy; How God Saved Me


How drugs almost destroyed me —From Rob, Calgary.


I was fourteen (14) and thought I had arrived.  I got involved as a teenager with a clique of friends that experimented with drugs. We would gather for leisure, smoke pot, and do hard drugs like LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide) or MDA (3,4-Methylenedioxyamphetamine). Our weekends were smeared with wild parties that streamed drinks, drugs, and loud music.  This was  the beginning of my doom.


In my youthful exuberance, one night, I decided to take things to a higher level. I filled two needles with MDA and shot them at the same time. Ah! I felt high and empowered. Getting high became my life to the point where my friends would struggle with me to take the drugs from me.


I went too far…

I won’t forget one sordid night.  After a dramatic drug experience, I woke up to my friends lamenting that I’d scared them. They implored that I’d gone too far and questioned what was wrong with me.  As I walked home that morning, I recounted my foolishness and began to seriously consider what I was doing.  I quaked at the thought that I could have died. How could I be so stupid?


I didn’t let you die…

It was right there in that poignant moment that something extraordinary happened.  I heard a voice. A startling voice said, “Yes, you could have died, but I didn’t let you because I have a purpose for your life.” I was sure someone sneaked up behind me and whispered this; because I heard it so clearly. However, when I turned around, I was all by myself.  This scared me all the more. This experience was the bang of my life and it eventually snowballed into my deliverance.


Meanwhile, back at home, my family was not staunch Christians. We occasionally attended a United Church just a few blocks from our home. The time came when my family decided to move from the city of  Edmonton to Calgary  (Canada) to pursue a business venture.  They, however, left me behind in Edmonton.

Start all over again…

Just after about a year, my parents moved, and my family was struck by a severe tragedy. My youngest brother was accidentally killed.  That was for sure, the lowest point of my life. The pain so shredded my heart. My brother’s death was an opportunity for me to leave Edmonton, a chance to leave the negative influences in Edmonton and start all over again. But if only it were that easy.


I eventually joined my parents in Calgary and soon became friends with a boy whose parents were friends of my parents.  He and his parents were Christians, and something striking about him drew me to him.  

As a direct result of my brother’s death, we started attending a church nearby, seeking comfort. This time, too, became a season of deep soul-searching and desperately exploring other faiths. During this time,  I read both the Bible and the book of Mormon. I finally rejected the book of Mormon but continued to read the Bible occasionally.


The decision that changed everything…

One remarkable day, someone invited me to hear a young evangelist speak at a church we attended occasionally.  It was there that I heard the gospel clearly spoken. And there and then, I decided to ask Jesus Christ to forgive me and come into my life. I made Him the lord of my life on that memorable day. It was a strange feeling. A mixture of peace, weird feeling, and a hint of confusion as people hugged me. 


A life of purpose…

Furthermore, the young evangelist emphasized that I needed to read the Bible and attend church regularly so that I could grow.  Without a doubt, the path I chose that day paved the way that has brought me true contentment, genuine friendships, uncountable joy, and unspeakable strength in the face of challenges.

Many years later, I am working in my purpose. I have a lovely wife and children. I am strong and helping many other young people know that God has a purpose for their lives.

Thank you Jesus. Thank you Lord! 


Reasons to Quit the Drugs and Alcoholism

The flashbacks I experienced when I overdosed on LSD were magnified when I smoked dope, and they terrified me.

Often I was awakened in the night with my heart beating furiously, and I would hear noises in my mind. It sounds like a massive wind-up machine that would release once it reached optimum strength.

Hereafter, I would see hallucinations as if I were stoned on LSD again. I was afraid the horrible feelings would never go away.Click To Tweet


Drugs entrap!!

When I started doing drugs, it was for fun; but apparently, there were risks that far outweighed the rewards.

Why Christians Need to Pray for Unbelievers

Looking back now, I wondered if anyone was praying for me to come to the Lord. The only one I could think of was maybe my grandmother. (My father’s mom). Although she never told me, and we never discussed spiritual matters, she was perhaps the only one I knew who attended church.

Paraphrasing 2 Corinthians 5: 14-15, We who have received the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ have a grave responsibility to no longer live for ourselves. But instead to be compelled by God’s love to witness, care for and pray for those around us who may be making bad choices.

The fervent effectual prayer of a righteous man makes tremendous power available (James 5:16)


My Advice to Anyone Contemplating Drugs

Drugs seem fun initially, but they momentarily become hazardous. Due to my foolishness, I became infected with hepatitis C. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered this.  At the time there was no cure; it was only last year that I received a costly treatment. Thank God! My liver was getting to a dangerous place, it could have killed me.

Motivated by My Past

Once I became a Christian, I was stirred to be a good influence on other young people and hopefully, help to prevent some of my mistakes reoccur in their lives. I joined an organization called Youth for Christ; they had a big reputation for reaching young people.  My friend and I enlisted the same day; we saw many delightful testimonies there.

My friend and I rented a large house and would often invite troubled teens to live with us. It was a tough time, yet exciting and fulfilling. We managed to get the youths involved in a program through Youth for Christ called Worth Unlimited where they worked and learned some life and social skills. One of these young people was a young man named Pat Nixon who became the founder of  The Mustard Seed a wonderful organization that ministers to many of our down and trodden out people of society, praise God!

God has done a fantastic work of transformation in my life; I can only thank him and give my life to Him as an expression of gratitude. He set me free from sin, and much more. God has a beautiful plan for each of our lives, His plan goes way beyond our understanding and even beyond our wildest imaginations.

I have been a Christian now for over 40 years now. He has blessed me with a beautiful wife, five great kids and soon to be five grandchildren. He has given me hope and a reason to live.


Drugs brought death and destruction, but Jesus brought life, peace and wholeness. (John 10:10)


Story from Rob, Calgary


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