As a hardened, militant agnostic, I used to think that Jesus was a myth and that life on earth came out of nothing.
I wondered why the Christian religion should be the right one; surely the Bible was so old that it could not be accurate. I would read material like this newspaper, but could not accept its truth.
Then one day I experienced an extraordinary re-enactment of Pentecost and concluded that there must be a God. In February 1987, I began getting short of breath, but the doctor could find nothing wrong.
Soon afterwards I met up with three Christian friends and was worried enough to let them pray for me. Then a young woman in the group spoke words that could only apply to me: “Stop your boasting. You did not choose me; I chose you. Salvation comes by faith, not works. The only thing you will ever have to boast about is that it is I, and I alone, who have saved you.”
I concluded that God was speaking directly to me and that he knows absolutely everything about each of us.
Then it happened – I heard a violent, rushing wind from above which filled the room. It penetrated my ears and my entire body.
But there was no wind outside, and the doors and windows were closed. It was like a scene out of Pentecost: “Suddenly, a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting.” (Acts 2:2)
Immediately, I could breathe properly again!
This event convinced me that everything Jesus said and did was true. After all, Pentecost only happened because Jesus lived, died and rose again from the dead. I committed my life to him shortly afterwards.
To those who do not believe me, I encourage you to ask God to reveal himself to you, too.