I have always held Christian beliefs, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been a particularly good example of the Christian way of life for most of mine! In times past, I’ve always called upon God when I was feeling down or desperate. There have been times when I have praised Him for the joys in my life too, but those times were never enough.

As a kid, I was sent to Sunday School at the local Methodist Church. The people who ran it gave me a little card with stars put in it every time I attended. Eventually I rebelled, and on a Sunday morning would make off in any direction except that which my parents expected me to go in!

I always joined in the prayers and hymn singing at school, mainly because it was compulsory back then, and I love to sing anyway. I can easily remember many of the most popular hymns.

At the age of 14, the Cuban missile crisis broke out. President Kennedy and Soviet leader Kruschev had us all wondering what would be next. My sister was frightened and crying and I began to pray. "God," I asked "will there be a nuclear war?"

A clear voice sounded in my head. "NO!" it said. "There will NEVER be a nuclear war, so don't worry. America and Russia will never fight and will become friends" This voice was so full of conviction that I believed the message instinctively.

When I went into the air force, I was asked my religion. Since most people seemed to be putting down "C of E" (Church of England) I thought that seemed like a good idea. I had been to C of E services with the Air Training Corps. I only saw the inside of a church when I was obliged to go there.

As a serviceman, I was employed to help defend our country against the Soviet Union. Yet, every time I put on my NBC suit (nuclear, biological and chemical) for exercises, I would think "this isn't really necessary, because God told me a nuclear war would not happen".

For many years thereafter, I was an infrequent worshipper. I used to offer up the excuse that Jesus told us in His Sermon on the Mount to pray in private, so I did just that. The only trouble was I wasn’t praying often enough and I wasn’t getting the benefit of the Lord’s teaching.

In the early part of 1994, I was working as a technical translator in Germany. My wife and kids had returned to England after my business got into financial difficulties. I was out ther all on my own. I was feeling downhearted and far from my nearest and dearest.

One of my co-workers, a young Austrian guy, noticed my mood and asked if he could help. I told him about all my problems. When I'd finished, he very gently put his hand on my shoulder and said "I once went through what's happening to you. Just put all your faith and trust in the Lord Jesus Christ."

Then, in May 1998, through the medium of the 10 Downing Street web site, I began emailing with a lady in New York State. Barbara is the wife of Bob, a United Methodist Church minister. Very quickly, Lurline and I got to know Barbara and Bob and their family quite well. We wrote to one another on every subject worth talking about, and I started to think more about my relationship with God. Our friends did not attempt to indoctrinate me in any way. I said I didn’t really know enough about Christianity, even though I professed to practise it.

In answering some of my questions, Barbara said that Bob was sending me a book that might help. It’s called "Basic Christianity" by John R. W. Stott. I read the book with great interest – it was quite hard to put down and seemed to make a lot of real sense to me. In one of our frequent moves around the world, we had lost our Bible, so I went out an borrowed one from the local library. I began to read it regularly. The New International Version is written in my kind of English – simple to understand and very convincing.

Bob and Barbara sent us some audio cassette tapes of some of their Sunday services, which Lurline and I enjoyed listening to. I also used to have regular correspondence from a guy, a Baptist in the southern USA who was a frequent visitor to Britain. In April 99, Bob and Barbara were graced with the birth of their third son, Benjamin. Slowly the emails began reducing in frequency due to the prioritising of baby care needs. We still chat now and again, when Barbara has a few moments to herself and the family are all doing very well.

Each year, my former RAF Squadron Association has a reunion. Many of our members served in the Second World War, flying Lancaster bombers over Germany. They lost many comrades on those raids, and the memorial service is always very touching. The 2000 reunion took place in July, on the hottest day of the year up to then, and we stood in the station church fanning ourselves with the order of service.

Meeting with old friends again and joining in worship and thanksgiving gave me the great lift that I needed. I felt it was time to find God, the way that He always found me when I needed His help.

A few weeks later, on passing my local Methodist Church for probably the thousandth time since I moved into the area, I noticed a poster outside.

The word "HATE" was printed all over it, but in the very centre, in the form of a cross, the word "LOVE" appeared. Across the poster ran the words "One Man Can Make The Difference". At the foot of the poster was an invitation to "Visit our Web Site".

When I got home, I decided to take up the invitation and visited the Church’s site. On the site was a Guest Book and a Prayer Request Book. I asked God for the courage to stop walking past the door and go inside. It has been the very most worthwhile deviation from my route along Burton Road since I first came to live here.

Now I go to church every Sunday. I have made new friends. I have finally begun to conquer the depression that has been holding me back for the last 7 years and I just feel better. In an increasingly busy life, I try to make time for God whenever I can. He can change your life in so many ways, if only you ask - and believe.