There was a time when I used to scoff at those who felt some kind of pious religious need to feel sorry for life mistakes they had made, regretful before some kind of deity (take your pick which one). Apart from having absolutely no idea who people really thought they were speaking to when they had their eyes closed, talking away to the air, I actually thought that life mistakes were a positive part of earthly living, and were to even be embraced, rather than regretted.

I once had been a (rubbish) atheist for a few months, thanks to a friend’s persuasively excellent intellectual skills; but thankfully, it didn’t last too long. To be honest, I’ve always been aware of something that’s deeper than just base physical existence, and to continue to deny that fact was just ‘not me’. Therefore, I simply assumed that whatever mighty spiritual force was behind all this charade of existence, had made and continued to sustain the universe perfectly just as it was, even when it seemingly wasn’t perfect, and that instead of remorse for our mistakes (even the severe ones), one should just simply learn from them, forget them and then just move on without any more thought. At that time, I was entirely unaware of the ‘eternal’, and assumed that the past was just that – the set in stone, immovable past; never to be relived unless you decidedly wanted to consciously remain in it. I had no idea that my past could be changed; redeemed, even. Due to mystical beliefs I had picked up along the way, certain gurus had confused/taught me to believe that the best kind of human life was to be lived ‘moment by moment’, and that one should never dwell in or even bring to mind either the past or the future, for it was there that one found the misery of either regret, or a projection of what could be, both of which were a type of ‘suffering’ (according to them). Sadly, this philosophy was attractive to me at the time, as it seemingly made some sense to my suffering, truth-seeking heart. However, this way of thinking had begun to make me more and more selfish as I sought to employ it into my every day life, and as a result I found that I lost some considerable ability to care for people I had once known, or even have a compassion for those closest to me who now seemed like illusions of my higher consciousness that caused me issues, and were therefore to be avoided (re: solipsism, the logical end of mystical atheism – google it!). 
I would say the reason for this was because ever increasingly, I was involved solely ‘within my head’, egocentrically focusing on bettering my own existence from within, rather than looking outward, and loving my neighbour as myself. Earnestly employing these mystical ‘ideals’ had sadly caused a considerable distance between myself and others, due to a disconnect from actual reality in my mind; but perhaps that is a story for another time. Suffice to say, I have now discovered (somewhat initially to my surprise!) that such philosophies are fairly far away from the ways of true love, even though (in honesty) some wisdom has still been retained from the experiences of utilising them at one point in my life.

As time furthered onward, I became more and more aware of something watching me. And very closely, I might add. My many experiences with tarot cards, and not to mention my ever increasingly wide knowledge of astrology, and the way planets and stars supposedly affect our characters and determine our lives, and also my deepening faith in other similar practices (like palm reading) had all proven to me time and time again that there was something behind the obvious scenes that I couldn’t see (as such), that was yet following my every move and even guiding/using me in ways I couldn’t then explain. As I used to ask the cards about almost every little thing that was happening in my life during that period of time, I often saw answers to those many questions come to life before me, and I just knew that something powerfully spiritual was taking place; to deny it was to ignorantly shun a reality that I had been made aware of. I guess this is why the bible calls such practices ‘divination’, for surely I was tapping into the ‘divine’ (or so I thought).

One day, I suddenly realised that most people (sheeple? I was looking to be – and, being encouraged by the gurus to think of myself as – a lion among sheep) on earth are completely oblivious to this little spoken of, almost totally unknown realm, and I instinctively knew that if I wanted to be anything of any worth or substance, I must simply pour myself into the knowledge of it unreservedly, for I was aware that there would be a well-spring of power for me to assume, without an end to it. I had reasonably reasoned from my many spiritual experiences that this power was ‘absolute’, which didn’t at all scare me (at that time); it was in fact very desirable to toy around with it and try to figure it out, always pushing limits and testing boundaries. Ignorance then was a kind of bliss; I now know that fear of absolute power is indeed wisdom. When I say I wanted that power, I mean it selfishly; not so much for the benefit of others, although it had crossed my mind to be altruistic with it too. I confess that I greedily wanted power over others, to manipulate and get what I wanted, and that I somehow was aware that this was a way to tap into the real ‘source’ of the power behind all the universe, and take what I thought I deserved; after all, I was such a good person who deserved all good things, right? (lol. Sigh.)

I was still very much in this twisted mentality when I first met the Spirit of Christ at that fateful psy-trance festival in 2005. In spite of all I was and what I had become, He was so very gracious to me; not even a hinting whisper of a need to turn away from anything sinful, at that point. He just wanted me to listen to Him and experience Himself as He really was, knowing that it was after years of me diligently seeking the truth, yet falling way short of it, until now. He was in fact more positively encouraging me to ‘become a Christian and help the poor’, rather than the negative of pushing for me to give up certain stuff before He could deal with me. Witchcraft, sorcery and mysticism were all so ingrained in me by that point anyway, I’m not sure that the need for genuine repentance from them would’ve made any sense to me at that time, and I guess there would’ve been more the possibility I would even reject Him on the basis that I had rejected Christianity before, because of a disdain for this idea of spiritual ‘self-flagellation’; I instead favoured what I thought were much deeper spiritual realities coming from the East about discovering our true higher self and us all evolving into awakened beings that have a mastery over ourselves in spite of the illusion of darkness (but, as I mentioned before, I later discovered that this kind of thinking was in fact simply the feeding of and the satiation of my unruly flesh, as I steadfastly followed the devil’s religious half-truths rather than the narrow path of Jesus; I just didn’t realise it at the time).

A little while after that first meeting with Christ, I had been brought to my knees in humility and awe, for the first time ever. As I fought hard in my new Christian life with vehement torment (from what I know now to have been evil spirits attacking me for abandoning my previous master, the devil, in favour of my new King, Jesus), the actual knowledge of the holy had not only shown me my own unworthiness before His throne, but also just how deep sin runs within me. I had realised (to my horror) that it was everything I was, that there was in fact no good thing in me at all. I now have a maxim that goes ‘the closer you are to holiness, the more aware of sin you are’. This was just so true in my case; for I had had a real encounter with truly genuine holiness, and was now for the first time realising just how far short I fall from perfection; a perfection that is in fact expected of me. Agonisingly so. The idea of hell was no longer to be mocked by me, for it was now entirely plausible to me that I completely deserved eternal torment for all I had done, as layers of revelation of the way I had treated God during my life were being stripped and peeled like an onion, leaving me raw and bare, and shamefully naked. No longer was I thinking that my inadequacy before Him was allowable, or escapable either; no longer was it to be embraced; for it had become very apparent to me that the time had come to turn away from wickedness, forever. That began with a real confession of a tear-soaked apology to Him, pleading for my life as I metaphorically grovelled in the dust with ashes on my head, with the unwavering conviction to never go down that road of ‘willing iniquity’ again.

Come this genuine heart felt repentance, I had also devastatingly realised that every act I had committed against God’s rules, was actually me banging an excruciating blow into His hands and feet with such cruel nails, and angrily spitting in His face as He tried to reach out and hug me with His pinned arms stretched out on the cross. I had to come to terms with the fact that I alone was the one who murdered the perfect One, for it was my ills and evils He bore, and every one of those sins were against Him and Him alone. I had been in cohorts with His eternal foe, that rebellious cherub, and He suffered at my hands because of it, waiting patiently for His enemy (me) to withdraw the attack against Him and then pick up my own cross for the sake of purity and peace.

With such a repentance as that, I then joined Him to resist the world’s assault against heaven, mainly by ceasing to personally attack Him anymore through stopping my agreement with demons to wilfully sin; then, actively helping Him to absorb the attacks of others by ‘bearing my own cross’ as part of His spiritual body, until they too come to ‘see the light’ and come kneeling before His crown of thorns, to also give themselves over to the true King of the universe, as He requires.

This recognition that every trespass or mistake hurts God personally, was a complete revelation for me. This is what really brought me to my knees in a trembling, healthy fear of the Lord. I could now honestly be truly sorry for all the wickedness I’d done to Him, however indirectly, for I knew that all my previous fleshly and soulish actions were the complete antithesis to ‘loving the Lord my God with all my heart, soul and mind’.

When faced with this particular scripture, I’ve heard people say that they wouldn’t want to serve a God who requires worship and devotion like this from us, calling it egocentric, petty and sometimes even evil; but to be honest, it’s because they simply have no idea who He really is, or what He does for us. If they only knew that He was the Spirit force between the strong love of doting spouses, or between a wonderful mother and her cherished children, or for that faithful little dog who gives you so much joy as it follows you around wherever you go… if only people could only realise that HE is the source of that affection and endearment; not to mention the source behind amazing things like the satisfaction of climactic orgasms, or the sumptuous ‘déguster’ of fine food that make you roll your eyes in ecstasy; as the Creator of these things, why then wouldn’t they want to worship Him?

Nowadays, it bemuses me, for I know the truth. Just as it says in the scriptures, people worship the creation rather than the Creator; people worship things they can feel or see, like sex or money, rather than the One who created those things! Sin sick, and mad from the grief that comes from a lifetime of separation from the Lord, this world instead relishes squatting in their spiritual slums, rather than the ‘living in luxury’ at the King’s palace, dwelling in His mighty presence.

It’s that realisation of the breaking of my pride that truly brought me to my knees for the first (and certainly not the last) time. He revels in our pure joy for the things He gives us, for by it we automatically acknowledge Him and give Him His due. The good Shepherd mystically hangs suffering on the cross, just waiting for His sheep to hear His voice and return home to Him, where like the Father of the prodigal son, He eagerly waits to put on the ring and slippers, and kill the fattened calf for His re-instated wayward offspring. The cross is an eternal moment for God in that sense; that is why it will always represent true love. In this mystical way, He embraces torturous eternal hell so that we don’t have to! This is what has humbled my heart more than anything else. If you have ever seen anything good in me, it originally comes from acting in faith on this revelation. Many times people compliment me by saying I’m ‘kind’, or ‘loving’. I say to you honestly, that without that revelation, I would still be distant, still be trying to better my own life in an egocentric, self centred way, and would still be focused on attaining power to manipulate and control others for my own gain.

He is the one who has produced the spiritual fruit of selflessness in me, and I am a living testament to His redemptive mercy and grace on the previously condemned.

I am Barabbas; a murderer who was set free, instead letting the holy One take my deserved punishment.
What other act of love can truly change a wicked heart like mine, than a move such as that? Hallelujah for the Son…