Hi! My
name is
Steve. I do
hope you
enjoy this
story of my
life. I was
born at an
early age
in 1956,
North
London. My mother left my
father when I was 3 years
old, taking me with her to
Scotland. After a while she
moved to Kent, though I don't
remember much about that
time.
Sad Start
We then moved to Norfolk in
1962. During that time, I was
starting to feel lonely and left
out. It felt like my mother did
not really love me and was
more interested in her career
as a midwife. I did not have
any friends to speak of or can
remember. In 1965 we
moved to Brighton when I
was about nine. My mother
had moved in with another
woman who had children of
her own: a girl and a boy.
Even though I was older than
the boy, the boy bullied me,
and I felt they got more love
than I. The other woman also
made it quite plain she did
not like me one bit. From
Brighton we moved to
Chelmsford in Essex. This
was around my eleventh
birthday. With all this moving
I was getting quite unsettled,
which came out in my
behaviour. My mother was
obviously fed up with me,
and, after only a year at an
ordinary senior school, she
sent me to a boarding school,
miles away in Dorchester. I
could not return home at
weekends because of the
distance. After a year she
moved me to another
boarding school in
Colchester. However, even
though this was closer, my
mother still did not want me
to come home at weekends.
She even complained at end
of term times. I felt very
lonely and rejected. During
my time at Colchester God
had started to speak to me.
This took me on a journey
looking for something. I did
not know what this something
was; but knew I wanted it. It
wasn't a
blinding
flash just a
quiet
voice.
At this
Boarding
School it
was compulsory to go to
church on Sundays. I chose
to go to a local Church of
England. God spoke to me
again. I had got into the habit
of going to church but I did
not have a relationship with
God. I thought He was like
other people I knew uncaring
and distant. Eventually I left
school after disappointing
exam results. My mother and
her partner were just as cold
and uncaring as ever, saying
things that hurt and wounded
me. Eventually she kicked
me out of the house shortly
after my sixteenth birthday. I
was working in a chicken
factory at the time and a work
colleague said I could stay
with him for a while. Little did
I know that he was an
alcoholic and played his
music loudly at night and at
weekends. I even fell into the
trap and got drunk a few
times myself. I just wanted
this loneliness to end.
Unknown to me, my parents
had got divorced when I was
14 and the Divorce Court had
placed me on a supervision
order. Only when I was 16
did I find out and the care
officer, assigned to me, got
me a place to live with two
Christians: one eccentric old
woman, and one eccentric
young man by the name of
Eddie. During this time God
was still talking to me and his
voice seemed to be getting
louder. Eddie invited me to
his church. It was an ordinary
church, but God spoke to me
again. During the coming
weeks I went again and
again, each time God spoke
to me more and more. I
began to be aware I was
unclean, feeling that even
though people had done me
wrong, I had done wrong to
God. So, I asked Eddie what
I should do about giving my
life to Jesus. He told me to
think of all my sins and list
them. He told me to turn
away from them and say
sorry to God, asking Him to
forgive me. Things were
different after that, but I knew
there was a long journey
ahead. Later, the care officer
found accommodation with
house parents, so I moved.
There I was shown Christian
love. I saw God change me
and I began to grow as a
Christian. God delivered me
from smoking, and I started
going to a church where I
would eventually meet my
future wife.
Having not known what it
was to have a father.
Reading the Bible for myself,
I read that God said if I
belonged to Him, He was my
Father. I could not
understand it nor feel it was
true. So, I asked God if He
could show me what it meant
for Him to be my Father.
Nothing happened straight
away so I forgot about it.
When I was 17, I decided I
would like to find out what
had happened to my dad and
asked the care officer, a
woman called Ms
Mottishead, to help me find
him. She did and I was able
to meet up with him. He too,
after a while, because of his
own painful memories,
decided not to have anything
to do with me and we lost
contact.
London Calling
In 1974 I started to attend a
little local Baptist church in
Chelmsford. A young girl
