Lia’s Story

I look back and I realise that going to church with my parents every Sunday throughout my childhood was more than chocolate, doughnuts, juice and loud singing. I see now that my simple declaration of faith at the fragile age of five, in which I asked Jesus to reign in my little life, was the beginning of something big.

I invited God into my life at a young age where big theological questions were not a barrier; all I wanted and needed – and still do! – was the God of Samson who had supernatural strength, the God of David and Goliath who wrestled lions, and the God of Pentecost who poured out fire upon His followers by His Holy Spirit.

I remember the moving encounter which stirred me to get to know this Jesus Christ. An older homeless gentleman at church kept shouting at the pastor to be quiet so he could pray. I could not comprehend this gentleman’s attitude and questioned my mother, who explained that he had been saved by Jesus and not to be afraid. I fell in love with this Jesus who did not care who He associated with and loved everyone the same, from the poor to the great.

My journey with God began from that simple faith. As the years progressed I continued to talk about Jesus with my friends, run into every sun ray and wonder if an angel had come to visit me and read books about gangsters and drug addicts whose lives were transformed after meeting Jesus.

However, as with many children brought up in the church, adolescence hit and suddenly it was not so ‘cool’ to attend the church youth group, and biscuits were no longer a great enough incentive to stay steadfast in my faith. I continued to attend every Sunday by the direction of my parents, but my heart had turned cold. I found the world and the approval of my peers far more attractive. I dipped in and out of godly encounters but my passion was divided. I still believed in God and if anyone asked I was still a ‘Christian’, but not the kind that Jesus has called each of us to.

At the end of high school, my lukewarm faith was challenged by God; He called me into a crossroads and gave me the choice to choose Him or continue in the world. He made it clear, after many years of dabbling, that my childhood days were over and I was either to grant Him wholehearted devotion or turn away from Him for good – He was not interested in a partial faith. Fortunately, I chose Him.

I dedicated my life afresh to Him, and handed my future over, for Him to direct; He guided me to a small coffee shop where I humbly began to learn the service of others, and developed my love for coffee and honed my delight for cake. He then ushered me away from my ‘home comforts’ to the red light district in Amsterdam where Welsh hills and familiar faces were a far cry. I served at a youth hostel dedicated to ministering, sharing the gospel and being hospitable to the thousands of young people who visit this infamous city.

The cries of that homeless man who God had first used to draw my heart to His were not far away. Those books of transformation that had so inspired me were near at hand. God had already shut the door to study ‘Animal Behaviour’ at university and secured my place at Manchester to study ‘Mental Health Nursing’; with the faces of drug addicts and the homeless at the forefront of my mind in applying. Seeing the broken souls of lives beaten by the world underneath Amsterdam’s veneer of tourism only increased my passion.

Three years of hard work paid off and granted me a degree, but more than that it honoured me the privilege of encountering the lives of countless individuals, each with a story to tell. Chatting with murderers over tea, gaining insight from the drug dependent, seeing the challenge of homelessness and prostitution and watching lives unfold in the place of vulnerability, challenged my faith and caused me to draw nearer to the God who was tortured to death for my own life’s sake.

God has honoured my five-year-old cry and I believe I am only seeing glimmers of what he will do with my life. Life is exciting when we let God lead. I currently work in Manchester with individuals with drug, alcohol and mental health issues. Some days I wrestle with the discrepancy between the lives of those I work with and the church, but thankfully God always brings me back to His throne of grace and the cross which allows everything to fall back into the light of an Almighty Saviour, who is in control and promises to heal the brokenhearted. My faith is my sustenance, and the cause of my endurance in battling to secure the identities of the hurting.

My passion for the church has returned, and I am privileged at CCM to be a part of a vibrant community of believers who love Jesus, ache for the poor and homeless, and who coincidentally have nice cakes and coffee…