I was a major in philosophy and had tried all different types of religions searching for the truth. I was really messed up into drugs and alcohol. After trying Buddhism, Taoism, Islam and Hinduism, I gave up on the idea of God and became an atheist. I was 19 and my wife was pregnant with our first son.

On a Sunday in September, 1995 she went into the hospital, with complications in her pregnancy. After spending an hour or so in the examination room the Doctor told me she was going to have to lose the baby and she already began having a miscarriage.

I remember walking to the bathroom inside Fremont Hospital, and the complete hopelessness I felt. I tried to convince myself that my baby was just flesh, or something. I couldn't bring myself to believe it. Something on the inside of me started nudging me, telling me to "call on Jesus, he will save your baby." I didn't know much about Jesus, I wasn't really raised in Church and what I did hear I never listened to. But as me only hope I called out to Jesus to save my baby.

As I went back into the waiting room, the doctor came out and with a shocked look on his face he said to me, "son, I don't know what happened, but your baby is just fine." That freaked me out beyond anything else ever had before. I began to read the bible and talk to Jesus.

I realized he wanted my life. He came to the earth and lived the life that I couldn't live and died in my place to make the way for me to get to heaven by faith.