The theme for the Service at Knutsford Methodist Church on the 14th January 2007 was 'Transformation', using St John's Gospel as its inspiration. It was at this Service that I was asked to give my testimony. This written version is based upon the text I used that day in church. As my friends will know, I became a Christian only quite recently. Faith comes to many people in many different ways, so Martin, who was leading the Service on that Sunday, asked me to give my testimony as to how I became a Christian; in that sense this is my personal transformation story which I am sharing with you now. I hope my story may be of help to some people who are still 'pilgrims on the road', as I am.

I was brought up in a generally Christian way, with some Sunday School when I was very young and then, later, exposure to school assemblies and RE (Religious Education) lessons, as we all were in the 1950s and '60s. It was in some sense part of the 'furniture' of our existence then. Somehow I never took it on board really, and, as I began to think more for myself, in a scientific world the un-provable didn't make much sense to me then. My parents did not attend church regularly so I had no clear role-models. I don't think I was ever an atheist but my general uncertainty made me an agnostic, I guess. I had a Christian college-friend (who is still a friend, and now a lay preacher by the way) and whilst I respected her belief and to some extent envied her certainty, I found it slightly quaint, and if I am honest, slightly unnerving.

Helena and I did not get married in church but in the Register Office because I felt it would be hypocritical to take part in a ceremony to which I could not personally commit. So I sailed along separate from God and not ever feeling really comfortable with the practice and rituals of the Church whenever I was exposed to it - e.g. at weddings and funerals.

My change, my personal transformation, began suddenly but developed slowly thereafter.

I used to suffer from periods of a low level of depression, which would come upon me from time to time. I never sought specific medical treatment for it at the time because I did not think I needed it. It's hard to describe depression to non-sufferers but it's a bit like looking at the world through a grey fog. Everything seems a bit dark and pointless. During such times I would tend to withdraw into myself a bit and become less communicative. However, I found that the feeling would usually lift after a couple of weeks and I was more or less back to normal. So by the early 1980s, happily married, living in Stockport and before we moved to Knutsford, I was suffering exactly one such low-level depressive episode. However, this time it seemed to go on for weeks without any obvious cause - but neither could I manage to shake it off at all. It was really beginning to get me down by then.

So, in despair one night in bed, I prayed silently for the first time in years - and I really meant it! The prayer was simple but heartfelt. I remember exactly what I prayed. It was "Dear God, if there is a God, please help me!" I then turned over and went to sleep.

I woke the following morning and got myself up, as usual, ready for work. Helena had already left the house for work and I was having a shower when it suddenly hit me like a thunderbolt - the depression was completely gone!

I immediately said out loud "Thank you Lord" and promised to pay Him back for His kind gesture by being nice to the most awful person at work from then onwards (a promise I DID manage to keep, incidentally!). Now, I know that I didn't even have the beginnings of understanding of the nature of Grace, and that it comes for free - but be patient, being a Christian takes time for some!

So now I knew there was something in faith in God at least but I did not know how to move forward and I was unwilling to discuss it with anyone. I felt awkward. It clashed starkly with the rather complacent world-view that I had held until then. To my perception then there was no obvious person to talk to about it at the time; not even Helena, which was pretty stupid of me. I was still suspicious of 'churchiness' and of the rigour of Services and the words involved, which seemed at the time formulaic and unreal.

We moved to Knutsford in 1985 and we would go to Christmas and Easter Services together sometimes - yet I had still not really moved on. By the mid 1990s Helena had become a regular attendee at Toft church though I still felt it wasn't for me. Little did I realise that odd influences were nonetheless making an impact on me. For entertainment on holidays, I had progressively read all the Cadfael novels by Ellis Peters (and they are excellent whodunits, by the way) in which Cadfael often expressed the view from the author, that "God sorts things out in His own way in the end". Even this must have been having some influence on me without my realising it.

A strange new turn was to take place for me. Helena knew that I was keen to find other people with whom to share my guitar playing, and that I was having difficulty doing this. She also sensed that I had a gap in my life and she knew I needed faith in God to fill that gap. She saw a notice in the Church notice sheet saying they were short of musicians for the St John's music group and she volunteered me for it!

So, feeling a bit tentative, I went along and found a new group of people, who were all committed Christians, to whom I could be of direct use. Mind you, I had then to learn quickly a whole new set of songs and to begin to understand some of the themes of the bible that frankly had never made much sense to me previously. The sermons obviously must have helped. After a time I was persuaded to go on an Alpha course and, whilst I never had any sudden flashes of light or inspiration, slowly, gradually I began to understand better.

I was also fortunate to have Max Ramsay, who is a retired vicar, as my near neighbour. I found myself asking him quite a lot about questions of faith and getting good answers that made sense to me. Next, the then curate at St John's, David Page, took an interest in me, and one fateful day he came and asked what was for me the really Hard Question.

"Are you ready to commit yourself to Jesus?"