It is with Love for Jesus Christ that I give this testimony.

Notes from a hospital bed, Milton Keynes Hospital, Ward 19,

 December 2006

It’s amazing the difference between darkness and light, not just in the physical world, but in the spiritual as well.

My wife Ann and I were on holiday in North Wales, in that glorious summer of 1976. We had found a route on a steep embankment of a disused railway line, a river ran below. After half an hour we came upon an old curved tunnel, the path was in darkness, the other end a faint glimmer of light, about a hundred yards away. We had three choices, we could retrace our steps and waste half an hour, we could make our way down to the river and try to find a route along there, or we could go through the tunnel. Boldness must have taken over our senses, because we decided to walk through the tunnel.

After about 50 yards, somewhere near the middle of the tunnel, we were in complete darkness. I had one hand on the tunnel wall. Ann had one hand tightly gripped on my free arm, fingernails digging in. We stepped forward gingerly, feeling our way through the darkness, expecting to plunge any minute, down a deep shaft to our doom.

We eventually arrived perspiring at the end of the tunnel, having taken three times longer than normal to cover one hundred yards.  Later that evening with the sun at our backs, we once again approached the tunnel from the other end. The tunnel was bathed in the evening sunlight and we could see a pathway clearly lit by the rays of the sun.

The same can be said for the path we take in your life

Nicky Gumbell mentions this in the Alpha course………………..

In the artist Holman Hunt’s painting ‘The Light of the World’, a version of which hangs in the Manchester City Art Gallery, [where I used to often visit]. Jesus is holding a lantern and about to knock on a door. The door hasn’t been open for a long time; it is covered in weeds and ivy. There is no handle on the outside of the door; the handle is on the inside. You have to invite Jesus into your house, into your life.

I look back on my entire life as a kind of maze, lots of dead ends, wrong turnings, nooks and crannies and dark corners to get lost in, until I finally emerged into the light and gave my life to Jesus.

My father died when I was 2 years old and it must have been a struggle for my mother in those early years.

She was a kind, gentle, loving person, who never raised a hand to me.

She had a sort of faith and prayed. If she had any leanings towards any particular religion, she leaned towards the Roman Catholics. She was very superstitious and we had the statues and pictures of various Saints scattered around the house

After a while we went to live with my maternal grandparents and my mum’s brother.

This was on one of the rougher council estates in West Gorton in Manchester, a place where you had to get tough or die.

We were all at the lower end of social scale and everyone was treated by the authorities in the same manner whether you were good or bad, right or wrong. You were considered to be ‘pond life’.

From an early age, it was a case of survival of the fittest. The older boys would pick on the young ones. I was about six years old when first confronted by the local gang. The leader was about twelve and was demanding money with menaces. I had money which my mum had given me to go to the shop and buy bread. It meant fight or hand over the money.

I was quite big for my age and he was quite small, so I chose to fight and hit him on the nose. He went down and didn’t get up again, ding-ding!, a knockout in round one!

He of course threatened to get me afterwards but never did. I earned a reputation and the local kids never bothered me again.

 There were the ones of course who liked a challenge and I had a few fights, some I won, and some I lost. A friend at school had an uncle who lived in the same row of houses and was a boxing promoter at Belle Vue in Manchester a well known venue at the time.

He had seen me fighting and asked me if I was interested in training at the gym with some of the other local kids. I thought about it for five seconds, and then said no, it was painful enough, doing it on the street. Why do it for sport?

We moved from there in 1956 to  Middleton in Manchester, a new council estate, but still beset with its problems.

In 1956 my mother decided that I should be baptised into the Roman Catholic faith.

I didn’t enjoy my early years in the RC schools. The nuns who taught us in those years were amongst the most unpleasant people I have ever met.

I can remember being punished for daring to write my name in my Bible and touching the feet of Jesus on a large crucifix that hung in the school’s reception.

The punishments were, holding your arms in the air until they ached and ached, the cane, the strap, and the worse of all dealt out by Sister E, the steel ruler, that really hurt. I can only say I was glad I wasn’t a girl, they were treated far worse.

I was told by one particular nun that I ‘was going to burn in the fires of hell for ever and ever’; this was for chewing gum after being told not to!

Sounds that stick in my mind forever…….The swish, swish of the nuns habit, the squeak of their shoes on tiled floors, the clickety-click of their rosary beads.

I rebelled against all this and was punished accordingly.

Sport was the only part of school I enjoyed, playing football. I got on the school team, and was made goal keeper, probably because nobody wanted the position and I didn’t like running around that much. I considered myself a good goalie and we won some and lost some.

My only interest at that point in any religion was that I belonged to a religion, that I was  Roman Catholic.

I was persuaded to become an altar boy and was trained in the rituals of the Mass [in Latin] and indulged in the ‘smells and bells and gongs and pongs’ of the Catholic Mass.

I learned the Latin responses without having a clue what most of them meant.

By the time I left school I had no interest in any form of religion.

To paraphrase a song,’ When I think of all the good times I have wasted having bad times……’

My neighbours at the time were the lowest of the low; I was threatened with a knife and my house being burned down if I didn’t get them ‘things’

I must have been about the age of 12 when I started to steal things, money from family. Items of property from all and sundry

This I had to give to the eldest son of my neighbours. I was very frightened, frightened of them, frightened of being found out. I had been used to fighting my way out of situations like this, this was different

I got into the habit of stealing, minor shoplifting leading to entering premises and stealing from there. I was told to enter a certain premises or steal from a shop. It was like a scene from ‘Oliver Twist’

I was inevitably found out and it must have broken my mother’s heart. I carried on stealing intermittently for years and didn’t stop until I was well into my teens.

I only escaped the clutches of these villains when we moved.

My teenage years were full of the lures and distractions of the time [the 1960’s]. I started using drugs around 1966. This led to 10 years of aimlessness and getting into things that I had no business to be in... I used mostly cannabis, but indulged at times in harder drugs

Don’t let anybody ever tell you that soft drugs are relatively harmless, this is untrue. This drug messed with my head and led me into other unruly, lewd and stupid behaviour.

Cannabis grabs you by the hand and takes you to meet its companions.

With the ‘harder’ drugs it is even harder to stop using them; this is why they are called ‘harder’ drugs. I would spend all my spare cash to buy some. You take more drugs to chase away the ‘monsters’, to get back to where you was, you are up, you are down. This makes things worse. So you take more drugs, then you try a little more, etc. You start by selling some of your possessions, then other people’s possessions.

Then of course there was the legal and dangerous drug alcohol. I indulged in many drinking sessions and this too leads to more stupid behaviour. It was part of the culture to get out of your head on a Friday night.

You think that you are OK, that you are in control, but something far worse could be waiting around the corner.

Growing up in the ‘swinging sixties’, I was influenced by the rock stars, the media and my peers who told me that an LSD ‘trip’ was the ultimate experience, a vision of hea

Instead it led me to the gates of hell…… I was being eaten by maggots, and I turned into a snake and was chased by trees, chased by spiders, I first took the drug in 1967 and had years afterwards of nightmares, fear, anxiety, depression and recurring flashbacks. It is hard to distinguish afterwards, what is a real situation and what is imagination. You have circumstances which you are convinced are real, very real, you try and respond to it and your brain blows its fuses. I was fortunate not to suffer any lasting psychological damage.

 I had friends who were not so lucky. One of my closest friends had a promising career in music, but he burnt his brain out with too many LSD ‘trips’ I started to sink lower into drug use and my life was getting grimmer, stealing, immoral behaviour, more drugs, associating with drug dealers, prostitutes and criminals. This only finally ended about eight years later.

 A friend of mine had a mother who was into all things Satanic, Demonic, and Pagan. She read palms and told fortunes, made potions and spells. The house was full of pentagrams and the like. I started to take an interest.  Tarot cards, Ouija boards.

There was a liberal use of drugs

They were involved in sacrificing animals, usually cats or dogs, though I never took part in this or their more bizarre rituals, which involved dressing up and dancing.

I was introduced to a group of people who at first were quite open and friendly, but later turned out to be sexual predators of the most evil kind. This I found out one evening, when ‘G’ the apparent leader  announced that it was his birthday at the weekend and we were to invite any of our siblings to join in the fun. Alarm bells started to ring, confused, I decided not go any further and stopped meeting them. A depression settled over me in the following weeks.

People who I knew, who had become involved with this, suffered ill fortune for years afterwards. One suicide, two divorces, and one who went to prison for stealing his employer’s money. These are the ones I know about.

Some time later, I took an interest in the mystic and mysterious aspect of Eastern religions and looked at things like the Krishnas, and Hinduism, started to read all the books like the Baghvad Gita, the Hindu religious text. I went to meetings of various factions of  several of these ‘religions', we consisted of the ‘Disciples’ and converts and the curious. At once such meeting, I am sure a form of hypnotism was used.

At another one of these ‘gurus’ produce snakes and lizards from about the body of an individual. The thing was you could see these reptiles moving around under his clothes for a good time before he produced this ‘miracle casting out of demons’. My friend, who had persuaded me to go along to the meeting, asked me what I thought. I told him the truth; I had seen better acts of conjuring on amateur night at our local  club. Another conman

Another friend of mine was one of the well off, his parents owned several businesses in North Cheshire.

We had always discussed things philosophical and religious and he seemed open and laid back.

He told me that he had met a holy man from India who he was convinced was ‘the one’.

He took me along to one of the sessions with his ‘guru’. This ‘spiritual leader’ was at first welcoming, but soon as soon as he found out that I had no money, and lived in a council house, he ignored me. I realised that he just another charlatan on the make and conning foolish and vulnerable Westerners.

Ann and I looked into and were interested for a while in Buddhism in the early 80’s, even attending the opening ceremony for the Peace Pagoda at Willen, in Milton Keynes.

But chanting and incense and bells and talking in a foreign language, I had done before, and we soon drifted away from it.

This led to happier times, but still a bit aimless, still interested in darker things.

We both had no interest in religion at the time, though Ann came from a Christian background. I thought of Christianity as boring. I had been to church services where the Vicar’s monotone sermons had sent everyone to sleep. The church seemed to be full of ladies all over 60.

If I became a Christian, I thought that would mean a life of tedious monotony.

Life moved on and we married in 1980, moving to Milton Keynes the same year.

Some 12 or so years ago, Ann accepted Jesus into her life and although tolerant of her spiritual needs, I still remained cynical and sceptical about any form of religion.

I tried for a while to attend services and meetings   but still remained unmoved and putting up barriers.

Ann was gaining strength spiritually, while I became resentful, jealous and sometimes angry.

I used to think that if I went to church someone would see me going into the building and later question me on the fact that I went to church.

I felt that if I went to church, I wouldn’t be able to proclaim my beliefs, for fear of ridicule. I have never been one for open displays of affection except perhaps with my immediate family; even then it was just a brief hug.

Joyous moments came when our daughters were born. This had me seeking again but still not finding.

I have been ill for quite a while now. I hade a mild heart attack in April 2005 and another a short while later and was hospitalised for a time. I had various tests but the doctors couldn’t find any damage to my heart or arteries.

Further investigations found a tumour on my adrenal gland, which in itself caused my heart problems, this was removed and I slowly recovered.

In my latest illness in December, I had a severe kidney infection caused by a large kidney stone [14mm] in my left kidney and two smaller stones in my right kidney.

I had the shivers and shakes alternating with sweating, vomiting and continuous retching. Back into hospital once more!

Then an undiagnosed duodenal ulcer haemorrhaged and I lost a lot of blood. My Haemoglobin was down to 4, the normal is 12 to 14.

Eventually I was given 8 units of blood and various doses of adrenalin and other agents. I slowly recovered.

I expect I wasn’t the first and won’t be the last to cry out to God for salvation in what is perceived to be their last moments. Thus I found myself crying to God to save me,

Either out loud or mentally.All around the hustle and bustle of the doctors and nurses. I felt bathed in sunlight

I had this feeling of being held tightly, of being cradled in loving arms. All peripheral noise seemed to go and there was dead silence. A voice was saying loud and clearly ‘Do not fear, you are safe now, you are mine’. This was no hallucination brought about by drugs or my medical condition. This was as tangible and tactile as the desk I am sitting at, writing all this down. I knew from that moment what my life should be like.  Later on Andy , my wife’s Pastor paid me a visit.

Ann had phoned Andy to say I was very ill, not knowing that I had just experienced an encounter with God. She was very shaken, realising I had a close call with death.

Looking back over the years, I may have encountered some intervention that saved my life.

In the 1960’s, I was working on the railways. On a particular wet and windy winter’s night, I was working by the trackside alone in a goods yard. I had to step across the track to retrieve tools from the trackside tool store.

As I stepped across the track, a force [I can only describe it as a real and physical force] lifted me under the arms, backwards. At that moment, a previously unseen locomotive slid silently past.

I looked around to see who had pulled me out of the path of certain death. I stood alone in the yard.

The second time was in the early 1970’s, having been in the pub all night and drinking, a friend said I was invited to a party at someone’s house a few miles away and could have a lift after the pub closed.

I was about to get into the car to go to the party, when I had an overwhelming feeling of danger. I declined and went home to bed. I received the news the next day that my friend had been killed along with his two companions in the car on their way to the party. This troubled me for some time and fretted over the fact that perhaps I could have warned my friends of my feelings.

In both instances was I spared? , Was someone looking after me?

Now many years ago, I used to make my way across Manchester on a Sunday morning, to catch my train home, after being in some nightclub or other all night.

Near Piccadilly Gardens in the centre of Manchester, there used to be this group of particularly Charismatic and Evangelical Christians, praising and praying, and handing out Biblical tracts. Now these Christians were on my direct route to the station, so I thought ‘ah ha, next time, I will take a circuitous route thus avoiding these obstacles.

So the following Sunday, I took another route to the station and bumped into…….. the Salvation Army Band and Choir giving it their best in the street. They were also handing out leaflets.

There seemed to be various religious groups in and around the city centre on particular Sunday mornings,

It was becoming a game of cat and mouse, as I bobbed and weaved, ducked and dived and avoided these various groups on my route to the station.

Only to bump into the sandwich board man with his ‘Repent’ and ‘Jesus Saves’ reading from the Bible and handing out tracts.

One particular Sunday morning, I boarded the train only to find it full of nuns. Oh No!

Sundays! Avoiding Christians! and nearly missing my train!

God was trying to tell me something

So there I was lying in my hospital bed, with tubes going in and out of everywhere, unable to move, to duck and dive, to bob and weave.

Andy had a captive audience.  I grabbed him by the arm and held on tight. We prayed. He asked me if I believed in Jesus and I said I did, he asked me if I was willing to accept Jesus into my life and I answered with a resounding YES !

I knew my life had changed from that moment on.

No drug, no stimulant, nothing, can match the feeling of sheer and utter joy that I felt as I accepted Jesus into my life.

I am no poet, no writer, no painter or sculptor, that I can express my feelings.

If this feeling is one millionth of what is happens in heaven than we are assured great joy and happiness.

I used to live in fear,

Fear of ridicule, fear of failure, fear of poverty, fear of confrontation, fear of evil, fear of death.

I am so different now, I am whole again, I am unchained, I am alive, and I am SAVED.

I want to shout and sing and dance for joy. I want to hug the world and tell them the Good News!

If my friends and former colleagues could see me now, they would declare that I had gone mad. That is their problem, not mine. I am mad for JESUS.

I have always loved my wife and family. Since we first met, I couldn’t bear to be parted for long from Ann.

Now I am saved, this love has turned into a bright shining intensity. I want to hug and hold them tight forever. I feel that I could burst into flames any minute.

I have been dragging rubbish around for most of my life; it starts off with a small

waste basket of all the things that pass for a life lived. It then progresses to a full size bin and eventually, I felt I was chained to a wheelie bin. Full of my past sins and misdemeanours. The chains have now been broken.

Without God, we are mere particles of dust blowing across a vast empty desert, or foam on a wave of a vast ocean. Lives fleeting, then gone, with nothing left behind. Like it says in James 4 like fog that soon disappears.

There is nothing wrong with gaining wealth, it’s only when we start to worship our money that we go wrong.

What use are vast riches and possessions in our final moments?

What is the point of ten hats if you only have one head? worship God, not gold.

Since God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit have entered my life I am at last satisfied with my lot. I have no money [I never did have], but I have things in abundance, gifts of the Spirit, a Christian family and a Church family.

I look at life from a different perspective.

So what of now?

Well I am now attend church services on Sunday and actively join in the worship and prayer.

I have completed an ALPHA course and started to explore the Bible more, digging deep into the Scripture. I also am reading some great books by Christian writers.

On the ALPHA, we had a Holy Spirit weekend, and this was for me another turning point, as we prayed I felt I was being lifted and had a flash of the suffering of Jesus. Tears filled my eyes and I prayed for forgiveness, I prayed and forgave all the things that had been done to me; I forgave all those who had hurt me in any way. A great burden seemed to lift once more. I knelt down and lost all sense of time. As I became more aware, I realised I was speaking in tongues, I couldn’t believe what was flowing out of my mouth without my thinking of it first.

I felt like I was walking on air.

I was baptised on April 1st [Palm Sunday] 2007, another awesome occasion, three others were baptised the same day. I was the first to be baptised, my the water was cold !. As I emerged from the cold water I felt a warm glow, and as I stood there I started to giggle and started to speak in tongues once more. I emerged from the pool and was walking on air again

His Love

His Light

His Peace

Has brought me here

Amen

Amen

Testimony Notes

Given in church, 25^th February 2007

Tom G