My name is Phillip, and my childhood was far from easy. I grew up watching my father abuse my mother. That left me traumatized and full of rage. I hated him. I wanted to ruin his life.  He cheated on my mom with other women, and I saw her cry all the time. I felt helpless watching everything unfold, unable to do anything. All that anger and pain started building up inside of me—and eventually, I looked for an escape. I got involved in crime. My goal? To get a gun and kill my father.

At the same time, I fell into addiction. It started with marijuana, just experimenting, looking for a buzz, trying to feel at ease. But weed wasn’t enough for long. I wanted more. That’s when I turned to cocaine—pure cocaine. I started snorting it regularly. I needed drugs, and I needed money to feed the habit. So I began dealing. Then I got into robbery. It was all about getting quick cash to stay high.

Eventually, I got caught. It was my first run-in with the police. I figured I wouldn’t be in for long. But days passed, and then came my sentence: five years. Just like that, depression hit hard. I cried at night, especially during holidays and birthdays—times that were supposed to be about family. But I was behind bars, on cold nights, alone. My first real contact with faith came through a moment I’ll never forget. I was using drugs in prison and went to collect on a debt. That’s when I asked God for a way out.

A couple of UBB volunteers came in one day. They spoke with so much certainty and power. I had never heard anyone speak that strongly about the Holy Spirit and how God can restore and transform lives. Their words stuck with me. Nearly five years later, I was released. And the first thing I did was go straight to The Universal Church. I began learning how to use my faith, alongside my wife. I told her, “Amanda, today I’m giving my life to the Lord Jesus, and I’m getting baptized. If the pastor invites people to be baptized, I’m going. If he doesn’t, I’ll ask him myself.”  

I was ready. I didn’t go into the water dry and come out wet—I left my old life in that baptism tank. I buried the old Phillip. The aggression, the addiction, the hatred toward my father, even the way I mistreated my wife—all gone.  Not long after, I received the Holy Spirit. That moment is forever burned into my memory. It was on my birthday. I locked myself in the bathroom and prayed, “My God, it has to be today. I need Your Spirit. What’s the point of presents, cake, and celebration if I don’t have You? None of it means anything without You.” 

Then came a peace unlike anything I’d ever felt. I didn’t feel emotional right away—but I had this deep certainty that I wasn’t alone anymore. I cried tears of joy afterward because I knew: something real had happened. I no longer felt hate toward my father. I wanted to see him to hug him. The Holy Spirit replaced all that pain and bitterness with love. He healed me from the inside out. Before, I was full of anger and wrong ideas about people. But the Holy Spirit wiped all of that away and filled me with God’s love.

From that moment on, I couldn’t stop talking about Jesus to everyone—my family, coworkers, and even my boss. I had this deep desire to share what God had done in me. The Holy Spirit transformed my character. Today, I’m a faithful husband, a good son. My father and I reconnected. We have a strong relationship now. In fact, he even moved back to the same city to be closer to me. I see him with love now—not hate. My wife and I have our own business, and God continues to bless us.

I’m also a UBB volunteer, going into prisons to teach others about the Word of God—just like someone once did for me. The Holy Spirit means everything to me. Without Him, I know I’d be dead. I’d be lost. He’s my strength—my Counselor, and my closest Friend. Whenever I go through something, He’s right there, reminding me that everything will be okay. All I have to do is persevere, and victory is certain.

 

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I cried out to God; I cried aloud to God to hear me. In the day of trouble I sought the Lord; through the night my outstretched hands did not grow weary; my soul refused to be comforted. (Psalms 77:1-2)

Send your E-Message or letter to Bishop Bira Joshua. You don’t need to feel alone; help is at hand. Please include First and Last Name, Inmate ID#, Facility, Address, City, State, and Zip code. Mail your letter to 7075 Southwest Freeway, Houston, TX 77074.