Melanie’s parents divorced when she was 8 years old and her father moved out. Six years later, her mum was diagnosed with brain cancer. The cancer was aggressive and had already spread through her body. Over the coming year, Melanie’s mum was in and out of hospital, being treated with different therapies but with little success. The cancer was progressing fast and the prognosis was dismal.

Questions now turned to Melanie’s future. She was 14 years old and unable to fend for herself. Living with her father was not an option so the decision was made for Melanie to move in with her Aunt Anni.

Hurting, Angry and Finished with God

From then on, Melanie started visiting her aunt’s home regularly. Aunt Anni was a Christian and took her to church where she heard about God, but it had little – if any – impact on her. She does remember one Sunday though.

On this occasion, an older woman testified to being miraculously healed of breast cancer. While everyone in the congregation celebrated, Melanie was enraged. What kind of God would heal an old woman while leaving a young mother to die and abandon her daughter? God became the ultimate enemy. Every night, Melanie cried into her pillow saturating it with tears of anger and hatred.

That summer, Melanie was sent away to a Christian camp. A day after she arrived, her mother’s condition deteriorated, and she was placed in an induced coma. Knowing that her mother could die at any moment and unable to reach her, the camp was the last place she wanted to be.

The Night God Showed Up

One night at the camp, Melanie couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of her mother’s impending death plagued her. Would she even be able to say goodbye? She stepped outside her tent and began to unleash her pain to God. She had so many questions. “Are you even real? I really hate you for doing this!”

Suddenly through her tears, Melanie had a vision. She saw her mother’s hospital room and knew that Jesus was standing beside her. Written across the scene of the vision like a subtitle was a bible reference: “Luke 23:43.”

Melanie didn’t know the Bible; nor did she know what the verse meant. Afterwards, she returned to the the tent and woke up the girl beside her: “Can you help me find Luke 23:43 in your Bible?”

There they read Luke’s words describing the scene of the two thieves on the cross next to Jesus – and then Jesus’ words to one of them: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Melanie looked at her watch. It was 1:45am. With the vision came a surge of hope. A deep sense of peace and security settled over her whole being. She was not alone. Even though she might be losing her mother, her home and friends, everything was going to be okay. For the first time in a long while, Melanie tucked herself into her sleeping bag and fell soundlessly asleep.

Hope After Goodbye

Next morning, Melanie was woken by one of the camp leaders. Melanie’s dad was on the phone. Her mum had passed away. Melanie had only one question; “What time did she die?” Her dad answered, “1:45am.”

In that moment, Melanie knew God had met her mum. But she also knew that God had met her.

When she arrived home, Melanie’s aunt Anni took her aside and shared her story. At 1.45am the morning her mother had died, Anni had woken to hear God say the same words as Melanie; “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

It was a turning point for Melanie’s life. All her questions fell away. Her anger dissolved. In the months to come, as she mourned the loss of her mother and faced all the adjustments that had to be made, Melanie was sustained by a deep sense of hope. She had lost her mother, but she had also found faith. She knew that God held both her mother and her in his hands.

Article supplied with thanks to God Conversations.

About the Author: Tania Harris is a pastor, speaker, author and the founder of God Conversations.

Feature image: Supplied

Thank goodness God doesn’t hold grudges. That’s all I can say. Even in my years of rebellion—even when I was cursing His name and shouting at those who spoke about Him—God never gave up on me. 

I come from a large, but scattered, family. I’m the youngest of five siblings. We all share the same father but were born to four different mothers.

Before I came along, my father battled alcoholism, anger and violence, which resulted in him being sent to prison. One night in his cell, he had a severe stroke. The doctors gave him little hope of survival but by the grace of God, he defied the odds and was given a second chance at life. However, this came with a heavy price, as he was left paralysed as a quadriplegic. In a more positive view of tragedy, this forced him into a more peaceful existence. Now trapped in his body and unable to do anything for himself, he was no longer able to continue a life of drinking or inflicting damage.

A few years after his stroke, my mother gave birth to me—Bryce Junior, named after my father. I was far from planned. My family called me the “miracle baby”, as my father was paralysed and my mother was on birth control.

Since I was late to the family, I was raised like an only child. I spent my younger years in a care home, helping Mum look after Dad. I was her little sidekick. Despite everything, Dad was still my hero and Mum was my rock. The way she cared for him has had a profound impact on who I am today and my ability to love and look after others.

While my home life was sheltered, I grew up in a neighbourhood full of violence, crime and substance abuse. I was often out walking the streets, hanging out at the skate park and getting around the wrong crowd. Mum would take me to church on the weekends—which planted seeds of faith that later flourished—but that wasn’t enough to keep me grounded as a boy.

Losing My Hero

When I was 11, Dad got sick again. This time, lung cancer. We had six weeks between the day he was diagnosed and the day he passed. It felt like eternity watching him suffer during that time and it was too difficult for my young mind to comprehend. When he died, I remember feeling like I suddenly had all this freedom. I started drinking and experimenting with drugs, and frequently found myself in dangerous, life-threatening situations.

Soon after, my older brother and his wife came to my rescue and took me in. They had five kids of their own and with me, six to look after. My brother, who deeply loved Jesus, became a father to me. Though I’m sure this decision wasn’t easy for them, it undoubtedly saved my life. I found a sense of belonging and stability in their family, and life was good again . . . for a little while.

At 16, I went out on my own and got into more trouble. I developed a dependence on drugs and got lost in a spiral of addiction and despair. I walked as far away as possible from any notion of God. Just the mention of Him would fill me with rage. I had so much pent-up anger in my life and couldn’t stand people talking about Him. I’d tell them if they brought God up again, I’d be done with them. “Stop! Leave Him out of any conversation you have with me!” I’d say. “If God really loved me and cared about me, my life wouldn’t look this way.”

Deep down, I wasn’t happy with the way I was living. I was just trying to mask all the pain I felt. I knew life had more on offer. But I didn’t know how to get myself out of this cycle.

Looking back, I can see how God was chasing after me, irrespective of my behaviour towards Him. Many people approached me and reminded me of His love and my worth. Some of these people I knew, others not from a bar of soap. On one occasion it was a preacher. Another, a woman on a train. Another, a tatted-up man in the city. These people encouraged me, put their hands on me and prayed for me, spoke into things in my life that only God could have known about—my addictions, my shame, generational patterns, things of my past I needed healing for. Many times I was left lost for words. How on earth did they know that about me? I’d think.I remember one time I was with my friends when this happened. My mates put their hands on my shoulder and said, “Come on man, let’s get away from these Jesus freaks.” Being under their influence, I turned and followed them. But those moments stuck with me. 

A Dark Presence

Between these encounters, I continued living in and out of addiction. It was a rollercoaster ride. Then one night while high on multiple substances, I found myself in the grip of a demonic presence. In sheer desperation, I cried out to Jesus for help. It was the only thing I knew to do. As soon as I called to Him, the dark presence left me. It was the wake-up call I needed. I finally realised I couldn’t continue living the way I was.

From then on, I started to experience God in a new way. I began to grasp that He was always with me, that I could come to Him just as I was—a broken mess. That filled me with comfort and hope. I wish I could say my life looked different straight from this point. But it was still a few years later that I found myself left with nothing except the consequences of my actions: angry, anxious and depressed.

“Give God 12 Months.”

One weekend while camping, a friend asked me how I was. I gave him the typical Aussie answer: “Yeah, good. Just poking along, getting through it.” At that moment, my brother walked past and chimed in, “Bryce, cut to the chase. How has life really been?” I sat with them for the next four hours or so, pouring my heart out and sharing what had been happening in my life. Then my brother challenged me, “Look at where you are. Look at what you’ve been through. Why don’t you go all in? Give God 12 months of your life and see what happens.”

That proposition sounded attractive to me. I figured, what did I have to lose? The life I was living wasn’t serving me at all. So, I left that camp and decided I would get everything out of the way that was stopping me from getting closer to Jesus.

First, I quit my job as it wasn’t a good place for me. I was living pay cheque to pay cheque and didn’t have any savings, but had financial responsibilities. But I claimed what it says in the Bible, that if we seek God first, everything will fall into place (Matthew 6:33). I started praying, “God, I want to work with my hands. I think that’ll be good for me. And I’d really love it if I could work with some Christian people who can help me stay on this path.”

I was rejected from one job after another. Then I received a call from a man offering me a couple of days of work per week building a house. He warned me though that every single person on the job was a Seventh-day Adventist Christian. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. Each day I rocked up to the job site, we would start the day by reading the Bible and praying. I was so encouraged by those men.

I won’t lie, it was still a difficult time—especially amid a relationship breakdown, trying to get off drugs and having a life of pain echoing in my mind. Yet God was so faithful; so true to His words; so present with me. He provided for me in ways I never could have imagined and my faith in Him grew stronger every day.

After making that decision while camping, I would have considered it a win to have turned to my brother after 12 months and said, “I haven’t taken drugs. I’m only drinking occasionally and I feel happier. You know, I feel a little more stable in life.”

Instead, I had grown deeply in love with Jesus. I’d been freed from my addictions. I’d been baptised and joined a local church. I completed a Bible program called “Arise For Life” and met amazing people from all around the world. I went to Africa and did mission work. Then to Norway and Sweden to meet my future in-laws through an amazing woman I met on this journey. Now I’m a support worker and a community coordinator. I’m living in freedom, knowing that I am eternally loved.

I’ve lived a crazy life and hurt a lot of people who cared about me. However, I’m so thankful for everyone who didn’t give up on me. Most of all, I’m thankful to God for transforming my heart and life in ways I never thought possible. He has given the purpose and peace I have searched for my whole life. I hold tight to this promise of His in the Bible: “I have swept away your offences like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you” (Isaiah 44:22).

Article supplied with thanks to Sign of the Times Magazine.

Feature image: Supplied and Used with Permission