I was one of those kids that ALWAYS got bullied, no matter what. And when I was younger, there were plenty of ways for bullies to harass me in some form or another. Not only was I the stereotypical class nerd, with goldfish bowl glasses, a terrible haircut and goofy teeth, but I had the unfortunate mixed blessing of the name William – I certainly don’t mind it now, but back then it was all too easy for the familiar nickname to come up – ‘Willy’. So I had a hard time of it.

I was a very angry young man back then, and consequently if anyone picked on me I would usually react violently, and this meant fighting. In fact, there are very few days I can remember at school, between the ages of seven and thirteen, that I wasn’t in a fight. I moved a lot when I was younger, and subsequently moved schools a lot as well. This wasn’t much of a help on the bully front, because for every new bully at every new school I would be ‘fresh meat’. It didn’t matter that I was a better fighter then most of them – they’d simply come in gangs, and beat me up in groups. Due to my long history of fighting, and the karate classes I took when I was young, I usually managed to catch the bullys by surprise when they picked on me by themselves…there was a many a bully who went to the headmaster crying over his split lip or bleeding nose…and I often got in trouble for that, believe it or not, which didn’t help my trust in the school judicial system.

This grudging respect when it came to combat, however, didn’t stop the enldess flow of verbal abuse and other covert acts (eg my things getting stolen, vandalised, broken etc), and wasn’t any use when I moved schools because there would be a new set of bullys who didn’t know me, or my history.

My headmaster and teachers were of little or no help during these years – they couldn’t understand why I was constantly picked on. I don’t think these kind of people ever were teenagers – they are undoubtably vat grown, born at the age of 35 or so, and fed full of th information required to teach young children. I remember one headmasters contribution to my bullying problem – when told of the nickname ‘Willy’ that so many people used, he suggested that I ask people to call me another version of William – namely ‘Bill’. Me and my parents agreed. The next day, during morning assembly, my loving headmaster pointed me out to the entire school, and promptly lectured them for 20 minutes on why it was wrong to bully me, and sntructed them all that from this moment on, they were to call me ‘Biull’. There wer no mirros around, but I’m quite sure I went such a shade of red that the proverbial beetroot would be steaming with jealousy. Needless to say, the next day I was caught behind the bike sheds by the thugs the headmaster had accused, and they showed me what they thought of ‘tattle-tales’.

Due to this abuse at school, I grew up to be a very introverted, shy, and angry little boy. I had few friends, and those I did have I weren't very close to anyway. I spent all my free time reading, playing video games and watching TV. I pretty much hated the world, and had little faith in my fellow man. I often wondered what life was really all about, and spent little time in reality, but was constatnly daydreaming and fantasising about being someone else – James Bond was a favourite.

Then my family decided to move to New Zealand. I’ve never fully understood exactly what prompted this sudden change in events, but within a short space of time, under a year, I found myself flying on a plane to some distant country I’d never heard of, to start a comletely new life. Needless to say, I wasn’t particularly upset about leaving my home country…it had given me very little in the way of a decent life, so I settled back into my chair and proceeded to watch the in-flight movie with calm indifference to my drastic change in geographic location.

When I began school again in New Zealand (I started 4^th form at Nelson College) I was surprised at the easy, laid back lifestyle that was apparent there. I suppose it was probably also due to the fact that it was an all boy’s school – girls do seem to complicate things too much, and the lack of teen hormonal tension there was significant. Needless to say, I settled in quickly, with the usual hassles about my appearance, and a new one this time – my English accent, which seemed to amuse my fellow students no end…… "Pip pip and all that rot" they’d say to me, "Cup of tea old chap?" My self defense mechanisms kicked in once again – these consisted of conforming to what everyone else was doing to make myself fade into the background. Subsequently, I lost my accent within a year of arriving there, and it is barely noticeable even now, a mere four years after my arrival here.

But something was different about New Zealand. For one thing, there was next to no fighting. I can thankfully say I haven’t been in one fight since I've been here, and I don’t foresee it happening in the future!

But the real story of how my life changed begins with my father. He had been searching spiritually for many many years, and when he came to New Zealand he was already in his late forties, still looking for more meaning in life then the every day hum drum of modern society. He remembered the year before how he had come close to dying from a chronic case of M.E, and had tried everything to get better – but all the doctors had simply told him they had no idea what was wrong with him, and couldn’t help. He got worse and worse, and eventually, in what he felt were probably going to be the last two weeks of his life, he visited some Christian healers. These guys simply laid hands on him, prayed for him and within days he was back to his old self again completely healed. The doctors were dumbfounded. The problem was, however, that my father had always looked into the Christian church during his spiritual searching – and had come out unsatisfied. He told me one day "I visited their Christian churches…but I didn’t see any Christians".

When we came to New Zealand however, Dad began to read the Gospels, a set of four books from the Bible pertaining to the life of Jesus Christ. He was blown away – the words seemed to leap out of the page at him, convicting him and making him realize that here, finally, he had found what he was looking for. Consequently, he started going to a local church, and the rest is history – he gave his life to Jesus, and he’s been a changed man ever since.

Now, all this was going on around me, and believe me – I had no idea what it was all about. Church? Man, speak that word to the average teenager and he’ll run a mile..and I was no different! When my father announced he was taking the family camping, it was bad enough, but when he then revealed it was a Christian camping ground…..my god! It took them a long time to pry me fingers from the doorframe as we were leaving.

But that weekend, something happened. When I arrived at the camp, the youth group there greeted me and invited me over to sleep in their quarters, away from my family. I was only too happy to oblige, being the moody teenager that I was. Over the weekend, the youth group really welcomed me into the fold, with a friendliness and acceptance I had never seen before. I was amazed. What was up here? What was different about these people that made them like this? Not only were they friendly an accepting, but they were great fun to be with – and never once did I hear them swear or speak an unkind word about someone. This caused a little bit of embarrassment for me, as a few swearwords, well integrated in my mind through 13 years of English schooling, inadvertently slipped out now and then. But these guys didn’t care….they just laughed it off, and kept setting the example for me to follow. By the end of the four days there I wasn’t swearing at all.

Over the four days I talked to the youth group about their lives, and was fascinated by the fact that they all got on so well, but were all so very different people. The one unifying factor they had, however, was this ‘Jesus’ thing. Id never heard of it before. They told me that real Christianity was not a religion, but a relationship, with our father and creator, God. "Ok" I said "how can you have a relationship with GOD?" They told me that the bible tells us God created men and women to live in a loving, harmonious relationship with Him, but we stuffed it up when old Adam and Eve bit that apple, because that was sinful, and because God is perfect in every way, sin separates us from him. "OK" I said "so how come we can have a relationship with Him now?"

"Ah" they said knowingly "that’s the cool part. Y’see God sent his son, Jesus, to earth, in the form of a man. While he was here he taught us how we should live in relationship with one another and with God, and he died on the cross so we could be free from the bondage of sin."

I had never heard anything like this before. I kept going to the youth group, and through prayer and reading the gospels I came to understand just what God had done for me. So one night I got down on my knees, and pray a simple prayer – "Jesus…I commit my life to you. I’m yours – use me how you will".

And then it started. It wasn’t hugely noticeable at first, but I began to change. The very next morning I woke up with a sense of peace and understanding that I had never felt before. From that day I was a changed person. Looking at me now, a mere two years later, you wouldn’t recognize me. Instead of being introverted and shy, I’m probably one of the most extroverted guys your likely to meet – I get on with pretty much anyone, and making friends comes as easily as a snap of the fingers. With this new found confidence I took up what had always been one of my secret passions – drama. Before that day I was too shy to even put up my hand in class, never mind give a rendition of King Lear in front of several hundred people, as I recently did in my seventh form year. Through Gods grace I was free to live life in the fullest, developing all my many talents he gave me, and enjoying His creation.

I also get on with my family a lot better now– sure, we still have our problems, but what family doesn’t? My parents will certaintly vouch for my change in character.

Since the day I made that prayer Iv’e had an inner peace and a joy that I know could only have come from God, and I thank Him every day for it. I have new direction in my life, and although having a relationship with Jesus doesn’t mean you never have any problems, it does mean you have an eternal loving father and friend to help you through them – and he’ll never leave you in your time of need.

Basically, nothing I say can convince you to change your beliefs – perhaps you don’t even believe a God exists. But I do urge you to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt, and try it out. Sylvester Stallone once said "The world never meets anyone halfway". Neither will Jesus - he’ll run over that halfway mark and sweep you up in his arms before you’ve even taken your second step – This is the extent of His love for us. All you have to do is accept it.