Jun 18, 2021 1351 Mark Yates

Miserable to Miracle

Addicted, sleepless, anxious and feeling lost? Take heart, there is hope.

“There is hope.” These were the last words my father spoke to me before he died at the age of 77. These words would be spoken to me twice more and they would change my life. They would take me from a life of addiction to being a disciple of Jesus running a charity for recovering addicts, where the good news of the Gospel takes shape as an everyday, tangible existence, giving hope to all who seek the truth.

Let me start at the beginning. I was born the youngest of 6 children in what you would consider a normal middle-class Catholic family where I received the foundations of the Catholic faith. But deek the truth. espite this solid grounding in The Church, I struggled with discipline, understanding, and prayer. I attended Mass, but my faith was weak.

By the time I reached adolescence, I was falling away rapidly, and by the time I went to college, all I wanted to do was play live music in a rock band. I dreamed of being a guitar hero while enjoying the party life.

I achieved recognition, at least locally, but to function I always needed an intoxicating substance inside me. My substance of choice became alcohol, though later I would become dependent on many substances. Years went by and I drank more and more—whether happy or sad, angry or peaceful, I drank. Going out or staying in, gigging or getting up to work the next day, made no difference. I was alcohol dependent, but I didn’t realise or admit it for many years.

After my father died, my anxiety rose to new levels. I was abusing prescribed medications from anxiety blockers, to sleeping tablets, to pain killers and anti-depressants. My life was out of control. I was hospitalized several times over several years, and once spent a week being medically detoxed from alcohol. That’s when I heard those words the second time. I awoke in my hospital bed delirious and babbling, but a nurse was holding my hand and saying, “Mark, it’s ok, there is hope.”

Fast forward a few years, and I’m in the very same hospital, only this time I’m sectioned on a ward after admitting to suicidal thoughts. My body was a toxic mix of drugs, pain killers and alcohol.  I became aware of the patient in the bed next to me who was talking to his partner on the phone, and everything he said irritated me. That conversation became entangled with voices I heard in my own head which for years had condemned me. Inexplicably, I suddenly felt the urge to kill the man in the bed beside me. I lay there till midnight thinking that, without alcohol or sleeping tablets, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I got insanely angry.

The urge to do violence to the man beside me grew. I imagined myself chocking him. Did I have it in me to strangle someone? Maybe I did. I thought about putting a pillow over his head and snuffing his breath away. I imagined hitting him as hard as possible and knocking him out cold. Then, I caught myself. “Wait, had I just murdered an innocent man in a hospital bed? Not once, not twice but three times. Who was I? What had I become?  I had killed a man in my heart three times!”

I turned my anger toward God. “I believe in You, and now You need to help me,” I cried. But I also blamed him. “Why did You create me just to torment me and send me to hell?”

I realised I was weak and had no fight left in me. Because I had used up all my faith in mankind, I needed something or someone to cling to. I had to hope. I had tried dozens of times to get clean on my own with always the same outcome. Now I did something I hadn’t done in many years. Though I had slid far from God and my childhood faith, I remembered my prayers and I began to pray. “I surrender to You, Jesus. Save me. I know You are My God and Saviour, help me!”  I kept praying.  I began to quote Scripture: “Ask and you shall receive.” I said, “Lord Jesus these are Your words. I’m quoting You, so You must listen. These are not my words but Yours,” I knew I was quoting The Bible and I knew it was true, but I had no idea what passage it was.

I know now I was quoting Matthew 7:7: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. My father’s last words to me had been ‘There is hope’ and here I was quoting Matthew 7:7.

Around 7:00 am, I awoke to the sound of a nurse asking me if I wanted a cup of tea. I had slept for seven hours! Most people know that a hospital is no place to get a good night’s sleep, but there I was withdrawing from alcohol, sleeping tablets, and all sorts of other substances and I had just gotten the best night’s sleep in years.  As the nurse was offering me tea and toast, I heard another voice mutter, “There is hope.”  Was it the nurse or was it God talking to me? I decided Jesus had answered my prayers: I had slept for hours and again I was hearing, “There is hope.”

But more importantly, something had changed, something profound. My anxiety was gone and I had a faint feeling of happiness and joy.  I wasn’t sure what caused it, but the demons that had tormented me for many years were gone.

This was the beginning of the miracle of my conversion, the first of many. I lay there in total peace and thanked Jesus. My journey with Jesus Christ began that day and I continue to walk the road on which he leads me.


Mark Yates

Mark Yates is a business owner and chairman of a charity for recovering addicts. He lives with his family in Manchester, England.

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