Trophies of His grace

The fragrance of God’s grace is spreading across the world as we prepare for the return of His
Son Jesus Christ. There are however, people that have little or no understanding of the operations of God’s Spirit, hence they are not able to enjoy or receive His grace for a transformed life. That is why the Lord Jesus gave us the Great Commission to disciple the world for Him.

We in the Editorial Board of The Shepherd’s Heart magazine have decided to use information technology as a tool to reach unsaved souls worldwide, as well as strengthen the faith of believers, especially those with faulty spiritual foundation.

This being the first edition of the magazine, we feel it is proper to let members of the Editorial Board share their salvation experience with our readers. These stories are presented below in no particular order.

Writing about my salvation remains truly astounding yet such a difficult thing to achieve. Difficult in the sense of not making an excellent drama script, in comparison to the experience of Gideon when God called him to save the Israelites or Apostle Paul’s road to Damascus encounter. On the contrary, mine has been a sequence of events, with contributions from several actors and more aptly qualifies as an illustration of “Paul sowed, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase”!

Growing up, I was surrounded by lots of tough love and warmth infused with strict disciplinary standards you would normally expect in a typical Christian home. Imagining how a very fervent Christian who is also serving in the military would raise a family should present a mental picture of how each day in my family played out. Holding on to the profession of the Christian faith and acquiring the best education possible were reminders we heard every day. My father would seize any opportunity to discuss future career choices to express his wish for me, his only son at that time, to become a Pastor.

Leaving home at the young age of fourteen to attend a 2- year ‘A ‘Levels course was quite an abrupt launch into the adult world. For me and quite a number of my impressionable schoolmates, being far from home in an environment where we had so much freedom was a perfect place to lose our innocence and stretch our capacity for mischief to the limits. We experimented with every naughty adventure possible for our age and indulged in activities that neither us as adults, nor our parents if they found out, would take pride in. Going to church, praying or involvement with any activity that
will show us as Christians were definitely not fashionable exploits and not part of the mix. In the midst of
what I now describe as my wilderness experience, one profound incident permanently etched in my memory was an encounter with the daughter of a family that had been friends with my parents.

This happened in Jos, Plateau State in northern Nigeria while on a holiday visit. After regaling my childhood friend with so many stories of my adventures in school, she disappointedly looked at me in shock and asked how I drifted so far away from Christ and was practically wasting away all my potentials. This incident is a significant part of my salvation story as it marked the first time, in spite my being raised in a Christian home, that someone had pointedly spoken to me about a relationship with Christ. I was sober for the rest of that holidays until I returned to school and to my regular
company. Life simply continued as normal.

How I managed to pass my final ‘A’ levels exams and make it to University can only be a testimony that God answered my parents’ constant prayers that I would neither disgrace nor bring shame and reproach to the family name. Obtaining a good grade and securing admission to university in Zaria was the veil I needed to keep my parents from prying into the dark secrets and duplicitous life of their first son. The roller coaster ride started from ‘A’ levels continued all through University and got worse after NYSC. I had mastered the art of displaying a semblance of religiosity and calmness that any parent would be proud of during any of the increasingly very short periods visiting my parents. In their eyes, I
was a superstar and poster child. Little did they know about my deep struggles with self-identity, loneliness and lack of self-worth.

Shortly after completing the mandatory National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) programme and on one of those visits to my parents, had told them I was heading to Abuja, the nation’s capital with a friend to pursue an employment offer. This was in February 1996. This short trip to Abuja was soon to become an adventure frolic which took us to several states and cities which ended when we got involved in a near fatal crash in Nsukka, Enugu State, in eastern Nigeria. A scar on my lip perhaps remains to serve as a reminder of that miracle. While lying on the hospital bed where I had been taken unconscious, I heard a voice as if in a trance say ‘the devil may not give you another chance’.

I would later gather from a nurse at the hospital how she had mistakenly directed a woman whose sick son was also admitted in the hospital to my hospital room and how the woman made the statement while in my room and prayed fervently for my recovery. That morning after gaining full consciousness, like a prodigal son, I insisted that my friend should take me back to my parents who were then based in Jos, to continue my treatment and to face whatever consequences.

I still remember my father breaking down tears in public as I stepped out of the car with my face wrapped in bandages and unable to speak due to the pains from the stitches to my lips, tongue and other parts of my face. Apparently, my dad had a dream on the night of the accident and had gone to wake up his prayer partner to ask that they pray for my safety. Seeing my father weep in public because of me completely melted away any toughness remaining in me. While in hospital in Jos, I made up my mind to chart a new course away from anything that would disappoint my parents. I decided to make a clean break from any of the friends that reminded me of the past and chart a new beginning. One practical step was to relocate to Lagos, the former capital of my country as soon I recovered fully and to keep a low profile away from the crowd I had been identified with.

Keeping a low profile in a city as large as Lagos was the easiest part of my decision. I soon realized that my strength of personal will was not enough to keep my thoughts from straying back to familiar territory and habits in spite my best efforts. I was frequently pulled back to the same struggles with that void, a lack of direction or purpose and lack of self-worth.

Indulging in all kinds of lust to fill the void was a natural direction to go and it felt so hopeless and frustrating. I was also confronted by deep personal questions about so many issues of life and in some instances, the official position of the church (where my parents had raised us) rather than offer answers, further complicated my struggles and feelings of alienation. It was clear I could
not resolve this personal crisis by myself. I needed help. Going to a branch of the Church where my parents had raised us was simply a ritual to ensure my parents were getting a good report and validation about my ‘good behaviors’ from their friends who were still active in the same Church.

After a particular incident where I openly disagreed with the positions taken by some Elders of my parents’ Church, I made the decision to leave the Church and find another place of worship that could offer me the answers I so desperately sought. During this period of ‘Churchlessness’, the Holy Spirit used my flat mate to nudge me to join him and attend a particular church in the neighborhood.

God, the master planner and strategist, had planned an ambush for me that Sunday morning!!! We got to church quite late but just in time to meet the sermon. This sermon dwelled so much on and provided the perfect explanation to a question that had lingered on my mind for years. It took little time for me to realize the environment created by this neighborhood church was just what I needed. Enrolling in a mandatory six weeks intensive membership course programme organized for intending members revealed my shallow understanding of gospel teachings around salvation, grace, baptism, gifts of the Holy Spirit and other foundational issues. During one of the classes, I confessed Jesus as my Lord and personal Savior for the first time ever and followed through with being baptized by immersion.

My life took a 180 degree turn since making this decision in 1997. The more I have learnt about the things of God, the stronger has been my assurance that Christ is dependable as the centre of my life. Looking back, my journey through life has practically been on autopilot mode and providential- just everything that needs to happen or any situation that needs to be managed simply gets sorted out when its time with practically no efforts on my part: finding a new job, getting married, having children, moving into a new career, children getting into school, managing relationship with family etc.
That is not to say all my experiences through life since 1997 have all been rosy!

I have had moments when my faith was deeply tried and shaken to its foundations. The faithfulness of Christ has seen me and my family through of such moments.

Even as I write this story of my salvation experience, I remember with nostalgia how as children we would always wonder why our father would be singing “On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand” whenever he was in the bathroom. Now I understand the sermon he was preaching to us his biological offspring’s better.

Perhaps I should also find a hymn to be singing in the bathroom like my father did and hope my children would remember it when they write their salvation story.

I was born into a Christian family in Oron, Akwa Ibom State in the southern part of Nigeria but hated God with passion. In fact, the name of Jesus was a torment to my soul. I hated it! My parents who were both lay preachers in the Methodist Church did not have any inkling about the spiritual bent of their daughter. Of course, I attended Sunday school with my siblings, participated in the occasional fasting and prayer meeting at the church, as well as the end of year drama presentations.

The religious pretentions continued throughout my days at Edgerley Memorial Girls’ Secondary School, a missionary institution in Calabar, Cross River State, still in southern Nigeria. As one of the Senior Prefects, I had cause to lead in worship at the school’s chapel severally. It is really amusing when I think of the many times I sang and prayed to a God I had no love for nor believed in. I was living a lie and I knew it.

Once I entered the University, I wasted no time in discarding the religious garb I was forced to put on by my parents and authorities at Edgerley. I was now completely sold out to the devil and did not care about the consequences. I continued with this crazy lifestyle until I graduated from the University, completed the mandatory National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) programme and got a job with the Federal Government of Nigeria. God watched over me all through this wilderness experience despite my aversion to His holiness.

While serving in Lagos, one of my colleagues started giving me religious tracts and preaching the gospel to me. I was initially offended by her action. In fact, I got angry and irritated each time she mentioned the name of Jesus. God did not let go but started wooing me with His love.
I cannot say exactly when my heart began to soften but I know that I eventually said in my heart, “I will attend church but not where the service exceeds three hours”. I am sure the Lord must have grinned because He knew what was in store for me at my chosen “Church”.

The next Sunday, I found myself at a Parish of the Church I had in mind and was advised to attend a Catechism class to prepare me for Holy Communion. On the first day of the class, the Reverend Brother assigned to us said something that shocked me to my marrows. He held the Bible in one hand and used his other hand to flip through the pages. Then he said, “We will not bother ourselves reading the first eleven chapters of Genesis. They are fiction. The burning bush story is ‘omokekere’ (that is childish) story”.

I sat there stupefied. I had never heard anything so blasphemous in my entire life. He made other uncharitable remarks about the Bible before I decided to it was time to report him to the authorities of the Parish. I eventually wrote to the Parish Priest detailing the man’s blasphemous utterances but nothing was done. So, I quit the Parish and started church hunting.

My odyssey took me through many Pentecostal Churches in Lagos before it dawned on me that I was looking for God in the wrong places. Jesus Christ said in Luke 17:20-21, “The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! Or lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you”. He also said in John 14:23,

Anyone who loves Me will obey My teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.

Saying ‘yes’ to God and loving Him have been my greatest achievements in life. I have paid some price
though. I come from a background of demonic infestation and satan has fought me with all the arsenals
at his disposal. That part of my life is better left unsaid in this narration because most people will not believe it. I call it the stranger than fiction episodes of my life. One thing that has sustained me through the challenging times is God’s love and the way He has made Himself real to me. Nothing can separate me from His love!

I grew up in a home with very strong Christian values as my parents were strong Christians who loved and served the Lord faithfully. Growing up in the U.S. we attended a youth group called ‘Awana’ whose
mission is to minister to and disciple kids between ages 2 and 18 all over the world.

Apart from what my parents taught us about the Lord, with regular Bible study and family devotion twice daily and attending church, we further learnt more about the life of Jesus by attending weekly Awana meetings and summer camp every summer. It was really great! It was such a long time ago but I remember how we would memorize verses from the Bible and learn about how Jesus wanted us to live and to interact with others.

But later on in life, I deviated from the precepts of a life lived for Christ. I went my own way and started living ‘in the world’. My parents never stopped praying and believing that I would come back to Christ.

One day my Father angrily told me that nothing would ever go right in my life unless I completely surrendered my life to Christ. I was angry when he said that but deep down I knew he was right.

There’s nothing like a praying parent. There’s power in the prayer of a Godly parent. God always honours the cry of a parent interceding for their wayward child. The Bible says in Proverbs 22:6,
“Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it”. That verse
was later on fulfilled in my life.

In 2001, my mom died suddenly in a car accident and I was devastated. I wondered why a loving God would allow something like that to happen to someone who loved and served Him so faithfully.
In a way I was unhappy with Him for letting my mom die. My dad was never really the same after her
death. He missed her terribly. But life had to go on.

In December 2012 we found out that my dad had prostate cancer. It was devastating news for my siblings and I. We started running around from one doctor to another, trying to rid him of this dreaded
disease. We ended up taking him to India but to no avail. Four months after I brought him back from India in December 2013, he went to be with the Lord.

Throughout that year long battle with cancer, my dad’s love for and faith in the Lord never wavered. I
would pray for him and he would tell me how great it was that his daughter was ministering to him. When dad left it finally hit me in a big way what the writer of Ecclesiastes meant in chapter 1 verse 2, “Meaningless! Meaningless! says the Teacher; Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless!” Everything is meaningless without Christ. My life was totally meaningless. Without Him, I had nothing. My life was empty!

Outwardly it appeared that I was fully devoted to Him, going to church, reading my Bible, praying etc. but that wasn’t the case. There’s nothing God hates more than lukewarmness. In Revelation 3: 15-16
the Lord declares,

I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

My dad’s battle with cancer and subsequent death was the catalyst that turned my life around. My parents’ prayers had not been in vain! It finally hit me that any of us could go at any time and do we know where exactly we’re we are going to end up? Yes my parents died, but they died in the Lord and I know they’re both now in heaven with Jesus. At that time, I wasn’t sure where my final destination would be and it was a scary thought.

Like my Father had admonished many years earlier, I turned my life around and gave my life completely to Christ. God’s Word never returns to Him empty according to Isaiah 55:11, “So is My word that goes out
from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” My dad held on to Proverbs 22:6 all those years and God’s word didn’t return empty. He is a prayer answering God. My parents were gone but He never forgot their prayers and He went after me. A stanza in one of my favourite songs, Reckless Love says it all:

There’s no shadow You won’t light up Mountain You won’t climb up Coming after me There’s no wall You won’t kick down Lie You won’t tear down Coming after me Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God Oh, it chases me down, fights ‘til I’m found, leaves the 99 And I couldn’t earn it I don’t deserve it, still You give yourself away Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.

This song portrays God as a Shepherd who had a hundred sheep in the fold. When one of them went missing, He left the 99; in safety of course and went looking for the missing sheep. He did that for me! Now, I live for Him! I pray my story would impact someone’s life positively for Christ.

He now lives, so you can live a resurrected life with Him. If you surrender your life to Him, your life will
have meaning and purpose. It’ll never be the same again. He’ll be with you every step of the way, leading and guiding you in right paths according to Psalm 16:11, “You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. He’s the best friend you could ever have. In Deuteronomy 31:8, the Bible says;

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

Surrender your life to Christ and you’ll never regret it. It’s the best, the wisest and the most important decision you’ll ever make in your entire life! He’ll never lead you wrong. He came after me and He wants you too! Don’t put it off. Do it today. God bless you. If you would like to give your life to Christ but you’re not sure of how this is done.

I was born into a Muslim family and by default was a Muslim. In fact, my grandfather who was a Paramount Chief encouraged his subjects to embrace Islam, though Christianity was subsequently introduced to his people. Since he chose Islam, his entire household, including my father embraced the faith. My childhood was a nomadic one because my father was an officer in the Nigerian Police Force. He was transferred almost every two years therefore we moved around a lot. My earliest memories were of being moved from one State to another which affected my schooling as well.

One thing however remained constant, with each school I attended, Primary through to Secondary
school; we always had a morning assembly. Assembly always included reciting the Lord’s Prayer, the Nigerian National Anthem and Pledge, as well as singing some hymns.

I can say that this was my first introduction to Christianity. In primary school, I studied general religious
knowledge, while Islamic classes were held at home. However, I studied Islamic Religious Studies for the
first three years in Secondary school. I recalled my mum having a couple of Christian friends and once in a while, I saw some Pastors/Prophets praying for her friends. That was the extent of my knowledge of Christianity.

I became aware of the concept of being a ‘Born-again Christian’ while in the university. We had both
Deeper Life and Scripture Union fellowships on campus and there were frequent attempts to convert
me to Christianity. Two incidents however stand out. The first was of a young English woman who visited my room at the hostel one evening with tracts.

She politely asked me about my beliefs and what I thought would happen to me after death.
In the course of our conversation, she showed me a tract and started breaking it down, starting with the
fall of man; the concept of original sin; the wages of sin being death; man’s separation from God; how
Christ came to atone for our sins and how he redeemed man and restored him to God.

That was the first time I was introduced to the notion of salvation. She asked permission to leave a Bible
with me. I later flipped through the Bible and was drawn to the Psalms as that was the only book I knew
of from my secondary school days. Whenever I would read the scriptures a peaceful feeling that I could
not explain would envelope me.

The second experience was also in the university when a young evangelist came to have a conversation
with a group of us. At the end of the discussion, he said, “if you believe Jesus came to die for the sin of mankind, isn’t it better to follow the one who died for you?” I believe these profound experiences left an indelible mark on me and set the trajectory for the road to salvation.

I studied architecture and there were only six girls in a classroom of about forty students, so we were
quite close. Four of them were born again and I recalled that before each examination, they would pray together and include me as well. They also invited me to attend their fellowships and prayer meetings and eventually to church one Easter Sunday. By this time, I had become familiar with the concept of an “Altar call” and the “sinner’s prayer”.

On this fateful day when the Altar call was made, I heard them fiercely praying in tongues beside me and felt compelled to answer the Altar call. After the service, I felt sad for the rest of the day because I thought they had coerced me to accept their faith. Regardless, I attended church with them throughout that term. This was towards the end of my course. A few weeks later, I left for
England but asked the Pastor to recommend a church I could attend in London.

I must say that my first experience in church in the United Kingdom was not very pleasant. I felt out of
place as other worshippers were quite unfriendly, nobody spoke to me or welcomed me. I sat down
there feeling like a fish out of water and I never went back again for another five years. Within that period, I was neither a practising Muslim nor Christian. In January of one of those years, my parents took my two brothers and I to Mecca, Saudi Arabia for Umrah (lesser pilgrimage).

When we arrived in Mecca, I participated in all the required rituals and was expecting some moments of epiphany, but the whole time I felt no connection and I knew something was missing. On the third day after circling the Ka’aba, I stood in front of it to pray. For Muslims this is the holiest place and the belief is that prayers said at that location attract immediate answers from God. While standing in front of the Ka’aba I said, “God I’m talking to the one true God, the God of all creation, who are you? Are you the God of Jesus or are you the God of Mohammed, I need you to show me who you are because I cannot continue this pilgrimage until I know who you are. If you reveal yourself to me as the God of Jesus I will convert and commit.

But if you reveal yourself to me as a God of Muhammad I will come back and complete this pilgrimage. But until I know who you are I can’t continue.” Hence I made my excuses to my parents and I didn’t complete the pilgrimage.

When I returned to London, months went by and nothing significant seemed to happen. Another birthday came round in October and I remembered thinking I can’t continue like this. Coincidentally, I had an annual health check up and was given a clean bill of health and the relief and feeling of being given another chance to “live right” made me go into deep conversations with God.

I was like “God how about my prayer to you in January, why haven’t you revealed yourself to me?” Just like that, things were set in motion. A colleague from the architectural firm I worked called to ask for my address. She had been walking past a second-hand Christian bookshop and she saw this book and the Lord impressed upon her to buy it for me.

The book titled, “I Dared to Call Him Father” was written by Bilquis Sheikh, a Pakistani Muslim woman detailing her conversion from Islam to Christianity. As I started reading the book, I realised I had been in some internal dialogue with the Lord since my prayer in January. I read the first few chapters and a lot of my questions were being answered. I realised that everything she was experiencing – her questions, her thoughts were similar to mine. When I got to chapter five I knew without a shadow of doubt that God was leading me back to Jesus.

I came to a place of repentance and desperately needed someone to lead me in the “Sinners prayer” and for real this time. Incidentally none of my believer friends had reached out to me since January. I remembered going out later that day and I bumped into a former university mate of mine who handed me a flyer inviting me to a Christian meeting. It was the Redeemed Christian Church of God’s (RCCG)
Holy Ghost Night. I was quite excited about the meeting as I was finally going to get my opportunity to stand up in front of God, witnesses and the heavenly realms and make my confession of faith to Christ Jesus.

Alas, the afternoon of the day of the meeting I suddenly started running a temperature and feeling feverish. I lay down thinking “how on earth am I going to get to this meeting?” I said a prayer “Lord I really want to be at this meeting, if it is your intention for me to be there please make a way for me to get there” and fell asleep.

A few hours later a telephone phone call woke me up and I got this strength to pull myself together and
caught the train to the Arena where the meeting was being held. I arrived at the meeting as worship was going on but all I was thinking was please hurry up and give the altar call so I can just go and stand in front of the whole world and make my confession. When that call was made, I marched proudly to the front to be led in the prayer of repentance.

What I experienced on that day was like when a bride and groom exchanged vows but they must sign the register for it to be legal and binding. Though the conversion that happened in my heart was valid,
standing up and making that profession of faith openly was akin to entering a new covenant with Christ for my salvation. My redemption through Christ in that moment became more significant, legal and binding. This time I was making it with total understanding, willingly and with excitement. The rest on my Christian experience going forward is a story for another day.