Anonymous

I was introduced to Christianity from a young age through Sunday School. Mum started attending church after a friend invited her, so naturally, my sister and I tagged along.

Other than my sister’s selective mutism, a form of social anxiety, our family seemed normal. Or so I thought... I never thought about having a dad until Mum told me he would be living with us. At first, it felt exciting, but I soon realised that the stranger, who was my dad, had an explosive temper.

Although no one was hurt, we’d have to clean up the shattered cutlery now and then. My sister, who was already quite anxious, would regularly run away from home and hide in the playground. Little did I know life would become much scarier…

My sister did not like the way my dad treated my mum and grandma, so she would punch my dad. What started as punches became cutlery fights, then swinging bats. I had to deal with the guilt of restraining my sister and the shame of wanting to knock her out.

It was so bad that I was waking up to a fridge tied with steel wires, wondering, will someone die today? God, I just want this to stop… but nothing could stop the violence. We did receive intervention and therapy from social workers, and I prayed to God earnestly, crying myself to sleep. Maybe God doesn’t exist. Maybe God doesn’t care…

School and church became my escape. Anything was better than home. I was a people pleaser there... after all, I didn’t want to destroy the joy I felt outside my home. I tried to be a good Christian, hoping that God would finally hear me.

Deep down, I was torn. Confused. I wanted to believe in Him, yet I was disappointed in Him. Very few knew what was happening at home. One day, I casually mentioned my stressful home life to a teacher. That conversation led to my first counseling session. I knew my family wasn’t normal, but I couldn’t find the words for it. That day, I learned that my family was “dysfunctional.”

At school, life took an exciting turn. I developed a crush on a girl who was kind, gentle, and a joy to be around. As I got to know her, I realised she was a devout Christian. So much so that she started an official Christian club at a science school.

A strange pattern emerged. I discovered that my counselor was also Christian. So was my favourite teacher, who taught combined maths and physics. Oddly enough, the teacher also had a theology degree.

The Christians were everywhere. But what caught my attention was their seriousness about their faith. Faith was very personal to them. Although I didn’t fully understand it, I knew one thing: I wanted that too.

During my freshman year of college, a church member encouraged me to join a Christian club. I wasn’t too keen on the idea. When I found out that two church attendees were going to a Power to Change event, I decided to show up. That’s where I first met Brian, a campus missionary. Later that year, I signed up for Beach Mission with Scripture Union. Little did I know, Brian and his family would be joining last minute.

They were taking a break from campus ministry, and somehow, we met again. Alongside us were two retired veteran missionaries who taught evangelism through biblical storytelling. Though I’ve heard these stories before, one struck me in a way it never had before… The story of Zacchaeus (NIV Luke 19:1-9):

“Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short, he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way. When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly. All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.” Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

It baffled me. Why did Zacchaeus change so drastically? Why didn’t he just return what he stole? Why go beyond that? Then it hit me. For a brief moment, I felt like Zacchaeus, hiding in that tree. Jesus sees me and invites me to come down. But, unlike Zacchaeus, I struggled to accept Jesus’ love. After all, what is Jesus’ love, coming from a dysfunctional family?

After the Beach Mission, Brian became my Christian Mentor. I confided in him regarding my struggles with faith. Meanwhile, I carried resentment toward the church for how they had mishandled my situation. Forgiving my sister felt difficult. A part of me wished she’d stay in a mental hospital. But Brian’s unwavering gentleness, kindness, and patience reflected something I had long struggled to accept - God’s love for me.

Slowly, the callus of bitterness began to fade. As I grew in my faith, I had the opportunity to share it with others through walk-up evangelism on campus. One day, my evangelism partner and I met a student wrestling with faith. As we spoke, he asked us to share our testimonies. I told him about my sister’s frequent attempts at running away from home and the strange coincidences that shaped my journey.

Then, unexpectedly, my evangelism partner shared something about his brother running away. For a moment, there was silence. Then, in sheer astonishment, the student opened up. His brother had also run away from home. It was undeniable. Could God be reaching out to him? The three of us sat there, almost in tears, stunned by the incredible timing of it all.

I had expected some difficult questions. Where is God? How can a good God allow this? Instead, this experience strengthened my confidence in a God who actively reaches out to those who are searching for Him.

I don’t know what the future holds, but one thing I’ve learned is this: God sees me. God loves me. And accepting His love will change me.