My Testimony

This won’t be one of those “Hi, I’m an ex-drug addict” testimonies, or anything like that, it’s how my life as planned out and how God saved me through His unavoidable and irrisistably transforming grace.

When I was a kid, me and my mum and dad went to church every week. It was a Catholic church called Saint Joseph’s, but if I’m honest, it was incredibly boring. I hated the ritualistic way it was done, the formal dress code where you had to look your best, the fancy robes and the fancy decorations. I’m not trying to trash the Catholic church, but as a kid, you can see how I saw no appeal whatsoever. My understanding of Christianity was basically: there’s a guy in a purple dressing gown who’s a mechanic called God, He has a really nice Son, there’s a Ghost with holes in, Jesus liked donkeys, a prayer was just memorising words, be nice, nice people go to Heaven and nasty people don’t, when it rains then God’s having a pee, when it thunders God’s farting. Obviously, I was wrong, and the silly things like the peeing and farting and purple dressing gown wore off as I got older; but that’s the understanding I grew up with. I decided I had had enough with the church when I was about 7 or 8, and as a result my parents stopped going too. Well, we went on Christmas day, but that was it.

I also grew up as a third wheel among my friends. I had some close friends, but put it this way, if there were only five people allowed to go somewhere then I was the sixth person left behind. I wasn’t sporty like the rest of my friends turned out to be either, and as friendship groups changed, I was always the one outside the inner circle: the replaceable one. My best friend was born in the bed opposite me four days after me, so we’d known eachother all out lives, but when it got to the last year of primary school, my best friend ditched me for popularity and didn’t want to associate himself with me at all. That hit like a bomb shell. Everyone listened to Eminem and Scissor Sisters while I listened to Sex Pistols and The Damned, I had spiked up dyed blood red greesy hair, and I was considered fat - which was the main thing everyone made fun out of me for. Don’t get me wrong, I had a good time, I loved my life, I liked standing out, but eventually being the sixth out of five does get to you.

Secondary school started and I felt like I needed to impress everyone. I began to grow my hair long, and started hanging around with the skatepark people, even though I couldn’t skate to save my life. Nonetheless, I hung out with them, again still the one outside the inner circle. I guess I then tried to impress people by making fun of others, which only ever backfired on me. I joined them in what we’d call “Terrorising”, purposely pestering their older brothers until they chased us, but I was too cowardly to do anything daring in their eyes. And I don’t remember this, but apparently I used to bully this girl called Jodie. Now, we’re best friends! I met a guy that year named Tom who had a two things in common with me: he liked punk music and collected Warhammer. He intruduced me to Iron Maiden and his friends: long greesy hair, black Iron Maiden t-shirts, conversations consisting of whether Eddy (Iron Maiden’s mascot) could defeat an alien invasion or Sauron’s army. I belonged. Well, outside that group, I was still picked on, especially now for being part of the nerdy heavy metal group, which carried on for some time. Eventually though, I became the outside guy of the group again. I was all talk to impress people, but I never matched it with actions. I wasn’t who I was.

It was then that Tom introduced me to his youth group: Vibe. We’d go, make a mess in the kitchen, talk about our favourite bands, and bathe our brains in computer games. I loved it. I never really cared for the Christian talks at the end. I mean, I felt a duty to listen because I labelled myself a Christian (or more specifically, a Catholic) but I never truely cared. After a month or so, we were told that there was a gig happening at the Magnet Lesuire Centre with Titus, LZ7 and YFriday, so I decided I’d go and check it out.

It was the 22nd of December, 2006. I can’t remember Titus very well, but when it came to LZ7, they were just one of those “Christianity’s cool, kids! I promise!” rap bands to me. I of course knew better, it wasn’t cool, it was sitting in a dim room with an organ and some monotoneous fancy robe wearing priest. It was undoubtably insignificant and dull, and God was no different to any stranger I passed on the street. But the music stopped. The stage emptied and this one man stood with the microphone. The singer of LZ7 began to speak about God with a passion I’d never witnessed before, about things I’d never heard before. It was the Gospel. I wish I could remember it but the only words I can remember are “Friend of the Creator of the universe” and later “Best mates with the Creator of the universe.” And everything passed before me. Every time I’d been left out, picked on and rejected engraved into the forefront of my mind. Nothing but solitude filled me, filled me with loneliness, singled out among the crowd. It was as if every moment of rejection ammounted in that moment to an overwhelming cry of desparation and need: I needed Him. I wanted Him. I wanted an unfailing Friend who would always be my Friend, who would never reject me, leave me or forsake me. Someone to be my Companion throughout the whole of my life. Someone to cure my loneliness, my lack of unconditional acceptance that He offered me. Not only that, but the Creator of the universe, the most powerful Friend to whom no one could stand, who would stand up for me with immeasurable power and love. It all made sense, I was meant for Him in a relationship. I was desparate, needy and lost without Him. The vocalist, Lindz, took all those willing to one side to pray and I joined them. I was awakened to His grace, a Friend who’d be a Friend when all else fail and leave me, a Friend who’d always love me. I wanted Him.

When I got home, I didn’t tell my parents, and I didn’t tell anyone, I kept it a secret. I began to read my Bible and I litterally couldn’t stop myself. I opened it up to a random page, in Luke I think it was where Jesus fed over 5000 people, and I couldn’t stop until I’d read through that book and half of the next. It was addictive. I began to pray, but it wasn’t exactly a flowing conversation. In fact, more along the lines of “God help me with this homework and I’ll read more of my Bible”. Yet, I only thought prayer was when we wanted to ask God for something. I believed in God, I knew He was real, and I knew He counted me His friend. But eventually, over three months it died down and I’d gone back to how I was before, and I refused to go to church because I thought they were all boring monotoneous rituals. I wasn’t having any of that.

At my youth club they had begun to use a series of DVDs called Deep, which featured LZ7, looking into the big questions and sharing people’s testimonies. At the end they started talking about whether anybody wanted to give their lives to God, and I flashed back to the moment I was at the gig. I remembered “Friend”, like, an actual relationship with the Creator of the universe. Where was it in my life? I knew about Him but I’d done nothing about it. So it was then that I decided this would be the moment, this would be the time I’d make a change. So I did. I saw my youth leader, Joelle at the end and she prayed with me and gave me youth Bible since my pocket one didn’t have the Old Testament. She invited me to Jubilee Community Church on Sunday, and Tom agreed to take me. I didn’t know what to expect. Apparently it was all jeans and t-shirt with rock music, so I imagined something along the lines of The Simpsons Movie where they played American Idiot on the organ. So on the Friday, I told my parents, but by the evening I didn’t want to go. My dog, Murphy, was hit by a car and instantly killed. I loved him, even though he was a dog, he was a friend. I missed him, and I didn’t care for church, I looked through my youth bible and read every passage on death and through tears prayed that God would bring him back. Sunday came, and Tom arrived to take me, so I went. Not knowing what to expect, and far from in the mood, I walked in with apprehension. Joy. Just, joy. It filled the room. I looked at the people dancing and the lack of organ replaced with a propper band, the smiles on peoples faces, the casual clothes; one massive family. But that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The first thing I noticed when I walked through those doors was the projecter screen as the man I came to know as Mark Burnage sang the words “You turn my mourning into dancing, You turn my sorrow into joy.” I was mourning, I had sorrow. By the end, I was to awkward to dance, but I had joy. I felt peace, at home, belonging. True belonging this time, knowing it would stay that way. And it did.

I saw people bringing testimonies of God’s love and grace, but I still didn’t really have a relationship with Him. Me, Alex, Andrew and Tom just stood at the back and talked about video games and Youtube pranks. The first time I really grasped what it meant to know God and not just know about Him was at a festival-camp called Newday. I remember standing in one of the meetings, fixated on knowing that He loved me, and it was then that He showed me my first vision. There I was, on top of a cliff with bright vibrant colours all around me, and a rich blue river thousands of meters below, and I jumped. I fell. Soaring towards the deep blue litterally almost touching the water, and then I flew. I had wings of fire and I ascended higher than before, high into the sky. He was telling me to trust Him, to have faith, that even when it looks like I’m going to fall, I need to trust Him because He will take me higher than before. That week was the first time I witness people speaking in tongues, prophesy, people passionately worshipping God, seeing the Holy Spirit at work in ways I’d never imagined, and hearing things about God’s goodness I’d never heard before. It was then that I truely understood what this life was for, that He wanted me.

With a relationship steadily growing with God, falling more and more in love with Jesus, I had a solid rock to stand on. Life got tougher though. I had tonsilitus for 2 weeks where I couldn’t eat or drink and had to spray water down my throat, causing me to go from the “fat kid” to the skinniest person in my year, and I thought that would stop the bullying. It removed their reason for it, but they carried on. I’d be talking to my friends, who became real friends, and all of a sudden people would pour milk over me, squash cake in my face, or repeatedly throw their lunch at me. Every day without exception. I also broke up a fight between two girls, and as I did so, one of them punched the other in the face. I was blamed. I was slammed against a wall and beated up for being a “woman beater” when I did nothing of the sort. The girl apologised to me and let everyone know that it wasn’t my fault, but no one let go of it. I’d walk through a corridor expecting a punch in the stomach, romours were spread about me that people actually believed no matter how ridiculous there were, some of my friends even. I think the pinacle of it all, though, was when I was waiting outside school and these two guys picked up some broken glass bottles from the floor and began to pelt them at me. I was scared to be myself again. There’s no way I’d even dare to stand out at all for fear of being ridiculed, I got rid of my own music and tried to look like everyone else.

It seemed so stupid to me, the love your enemies thing. How could I? I knew I had to, but I saw no reason until one day in my school lunch queue. The bullies, the main ones, stood behind me. Fear and apprehension consumed me as I tensed myself ready for them to punch me or something. Only momentarily. I took a breath and turned round and said “Hey, you can go in front of me if you like?” Taken aback, stunned and confused, “Me? Really?” I luaghed and said yes, and they took the spot infront of me, smiling as I smiled. I loved my enemies, I blessed those that cursed me. And they blessed and loved me. They stopped bullying me after that, and when I stood next to them on the school field to talk about Work Experience, one of them saw me and his face let up, “Heyyy, it’s Fearghal! Safe bruv!” Not fake, truely extatic. And so was the other guy. Any time anyone tried to push me around, these two guys stood up for me and defended me, taking my side against anyone who tried to pick on me. And no one messed with them, they were the biggest guys on the rugby team! Eventually, it all stopped all together. We talk regularly now, and I’ve come to know one of them alot more; he’s become one of the nicest and most gentlemanly guys I’ve ever met.

After that, God’s been building up the confidence in myself that I lost. I fell on my knees in surrender to my King at Newday a few years later (accidentally kicking someone in the face who was lying on the floor behind me) and gave everything to Him. I was astounded by that fact that He was delighted in me, in me! I had always struggled with my identity: fitting in, having friends, in punk music, in metal music, in fan clubs for bands. I was sick of it and said, “I only want to be identified by You!” Since then, He has been so faithful in teaching me who I am in Him. I said I’d go to the ends of the eath if He so wished, and He did. Well, to somewhere in Europe. As surely as I lived, He gave me the clear instruction, “Go on Newday Global.” I signed up for it, not knowing where I was going and not knowing anybody else, totally trusting in Him. Between then and when I actually went on Newday Global, I started going to this other church’s (River Church) youth worship and ministry group called Base. I was expecting a fancy venue, but it was just a tiny room in the middle of Windsor. I began to realise that those crazy life changing experience aren’t dependent on a huge week long event in a crowd of 10,000 - I could meet with Him whenever I wanted and whereever I wanted. I fell truely in love with Him, and began to know Him as my Beloved Friend. My Beloved Bridegroom. I became a fool for God. Dignity was a barrier and I ditched all my pride. I understood the significance of actually taking my love for Him to the streets to share with others. I became strong in His love and joy, and I couldn’t care any less about anybody thought of me. I became myself, His true son. I was baptised in my church, emerging to see a pair of rubber ducks, and people I’ve never met began prophesying that I’m going to lead huge crowds to the Lord. And I had to make a sacrifice that year too, the first time I’d ever experienced what it meant to love Him more than anything else. It cut me to the bone, and I screamed and kicked against Him, but He was patient and faithful. As I poured out my anger against Him to one of my best friends, He encompassed me in what only felt like a hug. Later, I heard the audable voice of God for the first time: “I’m here.” After crying and re-confessing my love for Him, I looked up and saw where I was - the toilet. He could have told me “I’m here” anywhere He wanted to, but He chose the toilet. That was the day I knew His humour, and I’ve come to understand now that He utterly loves irony. I saw my first miracles, I saw people healed when I laid my hands on them. I experienced what it meant to be drunk on His love and high in His joy. It was incredible.

So I went on Newday Global, which is where I’ll end this testimony. One of the leaders Wayne prophesied that I was building up like a volcano, and that I was going to errupt with passion for the Gospel that week. And Rachel propesied that my light would go from a tiny handsized ball to a blinding barracade. And they did. I was in the team for Porto, in Portugal, and my heart still longs for that city. I saw dead religion, where people made themselves suffer to please a God who they thought hated them and was angry. Me and Naomi broke into tears at the sight of people forcing themselves into misery. I saw people who’d gauged out their eyes for beggar’s money. We saw strangers’ lives changed and set free, we performed the Everything Lifehouse Skit wherever we went, and we spend 4 hours prophesying over eachother overlooking mountains and valleys. I met some of the most passionate lovers of Jesus I have ever seen. And it clicked. This is our God and it’s all about Him. Two weeks later we were at the Newday camp and I had no fear in speaking to a crowd of probably 200 or more to share my experience, whereas a year or so ago I would have been sick with fear.

I have no fear in life anymore, my strength is in Him, and I won’t ever depart from my Beloved. Give me a microphone and a crowd of ten thousand, hundred thousand, whatever, I’m there. Not only that, but I know Him as my Friend. There has not been a single day where He hasn’t filled my heart and drawn me back to Him. There has not been a day where He hasn’t been there for me. He’s taught me that I need not desire anything from anyone other than Him. I don’t need acceptance, significance, or love from anyone else but Him, and now I can love my enemies and honour those who curse me, because I am full in Him. He’s remade my life. He’s restored my strength. I’m a fool for the King of fools. I’m in love with the King of love.

“When I thought, ‘My foot slips,’
Your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up.
When the cares of my heart are many,
Your consolations cheer my soul.”
Psalm 94:18-19

“For God did not give us a Spirit of timidity, but a Spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.”
2 Timothy 1:7

God bless x