18 Month Reflection After Coming to Faith: What Changed and What I Learned

Over the last 18 months, everything has changed for me. Things I once craved, I now have no desire for. I used to think freedom meant doing whatever you want. Now I see it differently. Freedom isn’t about indulgence, it’s about alignment. It’s about living in a way that actually brings peace. It’s brought everything in life together for me. I’ve gone down many rabbit holes over the years and looked into many conspiracies, but the biblical explanation finally makes sense of it all. It fills the gaps and answers questions that once felt unanswered. In the last few years, we’ve seen some of the darkest things come to light. The Epstein files alone show there is real evil in the world. I’m so glad to have found true light. Gratitude has become the foundation of my days. I wake up with it, and when you truly wake up grateful, there’s no room left for anything else. No bitterness, no emptiness. I’m genuinely in love with life now. Coming to faith has closed the door on several conversations, but the ones it’s opened have been worth it, some of the most open and beautiful conversations I’ve ever had. At the beginning of this journey, I’ll be honest, part of me wanted acceptance. I wanted to prove something, to justify where I stood. But over time, that need has faded. I’m not here to appease people. I’m sharing this because it’s my story, and I believe it’s truth, and if it helps even one person, that’s enough. Recently, my dad said something that confirmed this for me. He told me that even if nothing more came from this experience, it’s already helped him find some peace. It’s brought him to faith. He still has questions, but he’s not sure he even needs all the answers. That alone has made everything worth it, more than I could have ever asked for. My dad, a lifelong agnostic, has come to belief. At the start of my journey, after an encounter, I was half caught up in the idea that maybe I was somehow special. But I’ve come to realise, we all are. God sees all of us. Every single one of us. The question is whether, and how, we respond. I’ve learned that God isn’t a genie. He doesn’t grant wishes on demand. But when you ask, and you align yourself with His will, He shows up in ways you can’t ignore. He’s become my foundation, my rock, my counsel. In a world that feels full of darkness, He provides light for each step, not all at once, but enough to keep moving forward. And with that comes a freedom, not from rules, but from the constant pull of the material world. The more I look around, the more I see how broken things are. We celebrate pride, yet pride was the very thing that led to Lucifer’s fall. There’s an irony in what we elevate. At the same time, depression is rising. Self-harm is rising. People are desperate just to feel something, anything. And yet, the answer for me came from somewhere I never expected. An old, dusty book, the kind your grandmother might have read. The last place I thought I’d find truth. But I genuinely believe it holds the answer to what we’re struggling with. Since coming to this, I haven’t experienced depression, it has completely lifted. We live in a world full of distractions. Constant noise. Phones, consumption, endless scrolling, always looking down, never looking up. Walking towards a cliff edge without even realising it, chasing more while missing what we already have. I truly believe we’re heading toward an identity crisis. People are placing their identity in things that won’t last, jobs, status, gender, achievements. But everything in this world eventually fades. My identity is in Christ. And that’s eternal. I’m a child of God. I’m here to experience life fully and to do my best with the time I’ve been given. Because in the end, the only thing you take with you into the next chapter is other people. That’s what drives me now. Our culture tells us to put ourselves first, to build everything around “you.” But I’ve found real purpose in doing the opposite, putting something above me and putting others first. We all crave relationship, real connection. I always thought religion would feel heavy and restrictive… but ironically, I’ve never felt lighter. Over these 18 months, I’ve been held accountable in a way I never was before. I don’t hold onto grudges like I used to. Tomorrow isn’t promised, and that changes how you live. It makes you want to make the most of each day, to be that example. People might not want to talk about religion, but they notice when someone lives differently. Faith becomes visible through action. More kindness. More charity. More understanding. Less judgement. Where I once judged, I now feel compassion. In church, I’ve noticed something else, the same patterns, over and over again. Similar stories of transformation. Similar feelings. The same kind of change in people’s lives. Coincidence after coincidence. Lives turned around in ways that can’t be ignored. It doesn’t feel random. It feels guided. I know right now I feel like I’m on a mountaintop. But I’m not naïve, valleys will come. There will be struggles. This path isn’t all comfort and ease. There will be suffering. But knowing I serve a suffering God makes it bearable. It’s taken the sting out of death. It’s replaced fear with hope. Life is full of optimism now. I’ve started following that quiet voice, what I once called intuition. And every time I listen to it, life gets brighter. You might read all of this and think it’s rubbish. And that’s your choice. But I’d ask you this, are you willing to gamble on it? Because here’s the reality for me: Even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve been fooled, misled, or tricked somehow, I will have lived the rest of my life in peace. As the best version of myself. With hope instead of despair. With a smile instead of emptiness. Best case? There’s eternal life. Worst case? There’s nothing… and I’ve still lived well. But from the opposite view, Best case? Nothing. Worst case? Eternal separation from a loving God. We are currently very comfortable in the West. I think most people don’t feel the need to question or explore any of this. But I’m not convinced that holds when everything is stripped back. It’s freeing to face these questions. Life is fleeting, and we all have to face death at some stage. I’ve also come to realise there’s a point where you can only go so far listening, reading, and consuming other people’s opinions. Recently I felt it was time to go deeper. I’ve joined a few Bible study groups, and it’s been powerful gathering with like-minded people, talking, questioning, and debating. Scripture holds so many answers. It blows my mind that the Bible carries one coherent story despite being a collection of 66 books, written by around 40 authors over 1,600 years, across three continents and in three languages. It’s complex, layered, and incredibly compelling. Everything I’ve read and applied has only bettered my life. 18 months ago, I was nervous about stepping inside a church on my own as an adult. I thought I might be met with judgement, but instead, I was met with warmth. I’ve come to realise the church isn’t a haven for the righteous; it’s more like a hospital for the broken. And most people in that space have walked through those doors carrying the same things, anxiety, questions, and a sense of brokenness, only to find something they didn’t expect.