Please excuse me for not working on this piece of writing as a piece of professional writing for publishing. As you might appreciate, it was tremendously hard just getting it down on paper so to speak. I believe the Lord wanted me to get this testimony out, especially as it was exactly 23 years ago today when I was able to receive Jesus into my heart and He rescued me from Satan. I haven't told you exactly what happened just weeks prior to my conversion, but that's OK, because perhaps that is for another day.
I believe the Lord has the glory in this testimony, because You can see clearly it was from the day I cried out to Him, not believing He would ever hear me, that He acted in a miraculous way to save me from destruction. I pray everyone who reads this testimony will have their lives revolutionised, and I pray any darkness that still has a grip on you will be exposed, and I pray His light will just invade your being. That is the prayer for myself too, for I truly desire every fibre of my being to be in His light.
The story as I said has not been ordered in any particular way. I've felt tearful and stressed these last few days, and I just said, Lord please take the story as it is and use it please for your glory. Amen.
Home, Saturday, 16th February, 1985
I remember I was out walking in town; I had Chan in the buggy and Lisé walking next to me. Lisé was four and Chan had just had his birthday the day before and he was two. We lived smack bang in the town, right next to the beach in a little rented flat. I’d grown up in St Ives, Cornwall, so I knew the town like the back of my hand, and I seemed to know most people.
I noticed there were people handing out leaflets, and someone came up to me and asked me if I would like to come and watch a film at the Guildhall. He said they were showing the Christian film about the life of the gang leader Nicky Cruz, “The Cross and the Switchblade.” This caught my attention, as I remembered reading the book in my teens. I couldn’t see how I could possibly go and watch this film as I had to take care of the children; so I said I was sorry, I had to take care of my children, so I couldn’t go and see the film.
The person gave me a Christian tract and smiled kindly at me, and I was on my way. As I was walking down the road, I remember a lady came up to me; I recognised her, and I knew she was a Churchgoer. She stopped me and warned me not to get involved with these people; she meant the people handing out the tracts. She said they were the devil’s disciples, and they believed they could heal people. I felt just a little shocked by what she said as they didn’t appear anything like the devils disciples; in fact they seemed to have a distinctive holy glow on their faces.
Today is the 16th February, 2008, and as I look out of the window, it’s a bright day, not unlike the 16th February, 1985. I had just turned 26 on the 8th February, 1985. My son turned 25 yesterday. I told him how I had married in January, 1981; had Lisé, went to live in Zambia the same year, and in 1983 had Chanza. By April 1984 I was on a plane back to the UK not realising by January, 1985 my husband would phone me and tell me our marriage was over.
Looking Back in England - 2nd January, 1985
I was sitting in my Nan’s kitchen when the phone rang; she said it was a long distance call from my husband and I could take the call in privacy in her room. I walked from the kitchen through her hallway, into her bedroom; sat on her bed and picked up the phone. I felt excited as a young woman waiting to hear the voice of my husband. I was not prepared to hear what he was about to say.
I sat on Nan’s bed as he told me our marriage was over. He didn’t want to discuss it, and he reminded me that phoning me from Zambia was very expensive; he then said he had to go. I don’t know what it feels like to be shot or stabbed because no one’s ever shot me with a gun or stabbed me, but all I can say is, after my husband saying our marriage was over, I felt like he had plunged a knife into my heart.
I sat on Nan’s bed, and I suppose I was in shock. I knew I could burst into tears and tell my mum and Nan who were sat in the kitchen with the children. Mum and Nan had always felt quite concerned about me marrying Derek, because they weren’t convinced he was the kind of man I thought he was. But, they realised my mind was made up, and so they just had to support me in my decision to marry him. I just could not go into the kitchen and tell them he’d just ended our marriage. I decided I would just go in the kitchen, smile sweetly and say, my husband was fine; pick up the children and head home. That’s exactly what I did.
Prior to leaving Zambia in April 1984
My husband gave me a peck on the cheek at Luanshya airport, Zambia as the children and I were about to board the plane for our flight to the capital Lusaka and then back to England in the United Kingdom. He assured me he would come and see us in three months time, and then he said he would arrange flights for us to join him in the United States where he said he was applying for an engineering post.
I believed every word that flowed from his lips, because when I pledged myself to him as his wife, I believed he was everything I ever needed in life. He really was the one I wanted. As I sit here today and remember myself then, I can’t help thinking how naive I was. I was just a slip of a girl, less then nine stone in weight; not bad looking, and I had no idea what marrying this man entailed for me.
Cornwall College in England, 1975
I was just sweet 16 and the college dance was coming up and we girls had butterflies in our tummies. This was the first dance I had ever been too, and I was certainly looking forward to the evening. My friend Jill had started dating a student from Zambia, and she showed me a poem he hadn’t written to her. She seemed so happy about meeting him. He had black skin, and I had never seen anyone with a black skin before, only people in films.
I’d recently watched the film Roots and I remember feeling so upset about the way these black skinned people were treated. So, the strange thing is, when I saw all these African students walking through the college corridors, I remembered the film I had watched and I thought - these are the descendants of those who were enslaved. I suppose I was very much a daydreamer, and I remember my Mum reading one of my school reports aloud where my class teacher described me as a daydreamer.
I kind of got the impression from the tone of Mum’s voice, being a daydreamer wasn’t a good thing. Although I don’t remember Mum ever having a go at me for being a daydreamer; I suppose I kind of accepted I was a daydreamer, and I didn’t think it was such a bad thing. I remember reading in my children’s story bible that Joseph son of Jacob was a daydreamer, and he was loved and favoured by God; I used to want to emulate Joseph and imagine I was loved and favoured by God.
I didn’t actually meet my husband at the college dance; in fact it was sometime after the dance. He was a student at the college though. I had gone along to a local disco with my friend and we were dancing away, and Derek (that was the name of my husband to be) approached me and asked me if he could dance with me. I said yes, and then before it was time to go home he asked me if I would like to meet him again. He asked me if I would meet him the next day. I said yes without really thinking about it, and he scribbled his details on a piece of paper, saying he would meet me at Camborne bus station the next day. The college was in Camborne and it was a relatively short journey from my home.
I was 17 years when I agreed to go out with Derek, and I felt very grown up. Life seemed exciting, and I loved the idea of being able to do what I wanted and feel as free as a bird. I enjoyed my college studies; I loved my friends; home life was good. Mum had her life; my Nan and Granddad lived just a few doors away from our home; my half brother had left home at 16 to join the police force, my sister Sandra was also at college with me; she was 13 months my junior, and my half sister Katrina was still at school, she was seven years younger than me.
Mum had her boyfriend William, and she seemed happy enough in his company. Quite frankly William was the only decent boyfriend my Mum had ever had. The rest used to knock her around terribly; but that’s another story. William didn’t live with us; he lived a few minutes away from our house. I liked William because he was kind to my Mum, and kind to us kids.
Nurse Training, Bristol, England, 1978
Derek and I were still girlfriend and boyfriend when I finished my college studies and moved to a different county to start my nursing course. He remained in Cornwall to complete his studies and then he moved to the North of the country to start university. He was a good four hours away from me on the train, and it did seem hard for me feeling so far away from him. He would travel to Bristol to see me, and I’d travel to Leeds to see him, and that’s how we conducted our relationship for a while.
We then made the decision to get engaged, and he brought me a solitaire diamond ring from H. Samuel jewellery shop in Bristol. I loved the ring and wearing it on my finger made me feel like I really belonged to him. He bought me a silver bracelet Seiko watch at the same time, and that really made me believe he loved me.
My problem was, I missed him being so far away from me, and I just wanted to be with him. So, I spoke to the Director of Nursing about the idea of transferring to a hospital in Leeds so I could be near Derek. She agreed I could, and Derek agreed too, and so that’s what happened. In 1980 I transferred to Leeds where he was studying at university. I agreed to move into a university flat for couples; so we began to live together as an unmarried couple.
Derek and I married on the 23st January, 1985 at Leeds, Registry Office; there were no members of my family present, and two students from our university house acted as witnesses; Heidi and Malcolm. Heidi was British Chinese and Malcolm was British. On the 19th June, the same year, our daughter Lisé was born three weeks prematurely. Derek returned to Zambia after graduating in Metallurgy that same year, and he said for me to take Lisé to my Mum's and wait there while he would send us our plane tickets to join him in Zambia in November. He sent us the tickets and Lisé and I flew out to Zambia in November, 1981. My mum travelled to Heathrow airport to say goodbye; neither my Mum nor I could have known what was going to happen to me in a foreign country.
Part 2 posted separately
