My beloved spoke, and said to me: "Rise up, my love, my fair one, And come away.
For lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing has come, And the voice of the turtledove Is heard in our land. (2:10-13).

It is true to say that before I knew or met Jesus, I existed in a spiritual winter.  I sensed that there was more to life than just the physical realm I saw and even explored the domains of psychics in my search to know more.

The fact that the spiritual realm was real was not hard for me to perceive.  I had had a few encounters with the supernatural realm that could not be explained away by even the most eloquent atheists.

When I was thirteen, Diane, my best friend, joined us for our family’s New Year’s Eve celebrations at my grandparent’s cottage in Norfolk, England.   Honeysuckle Cottage was a beautiful old cottage with huge bedrooms.  Our room held the single bed we shared, a double bed that my parents would sleep in and on the other side of this another single bed that my little sister slept in.

On what could only be described as a classic ghost story-like night, with windows and timbers creaking and wind whistling in the eaves, Diane and I lay in bed, in the dark, chatting away after an active day.  My sister was already asleep across from us and the adults were still talking downstairs. 

Our room was dark but the landing light was on so our attention was caught when our bedroom door began to open.  Our chatting ceased and we watched as a tall, dark figure entered.  A large silhouette of a man came in and paused, with hands on hips, seemingly looking at us.  We instinctively sat up in bed, transfixed and terrified.  Diane broke into a sweat and I turned stone cold.   The figure then moved into the room, I can’t say it walked, but it went and stood between the other single bed and the double, seemingly looking at my sister.  Then it went back the way it had come in.   Needless to say, Rags, my nana’s red setter, was barking throughout.

Finding our voices, as soon as the figure was gone, we yelled out to my parents.  They came upstairs, half-heartedly looked around and assured us that we had imagined the incident and that nothing was there.  To this day we know that we hadn’t imagined anything, over thirty years after, it is still clear in my mind and from conversations with Diane, in hers too.  I am convinced that we saw some kind of spirit that night.

Over the next few years, little tidbits of information were gleaned from family conversations and I learned that a great uncle and his wife were mediums.  In days gone by the family had taken part in séances and it was said that my uncle channelled the spirit of an African tribal chief, even seeming to take on his mannerisms and speaking in his language.

My curiosity was piqued and at the age of eighteen, when my Pop died, I tried to make contact with him, visiting a number of mediums in the process. As is apparently common, they told me I had psychic gifts and especially in the area astral travel.  I was vaguely intrigued but not enough to purse an interest. 

One amazing graphic medium astounded another friend and myself by drawing an incredibly accurate portrait of her younger brother.  Trish later told me that he had died in his early teens and that the picture was exactly the same as the photo on her mum’s mantelpiece in Wales.  The lady gave her the drawing as a momento, with a message of love from her brother.

Soon after, another medium told me that God was like a huge light emanating incredible love.  Of all the things that I had seen and heard, this was the one that captured my attention.  I remembered thinking, “if she believes that God exists then he must do!”
I hadn’t had a church background, I had never been.  My only knowledge of Jesus came from the old style hymns we sang at school.   Head of Lower school, Mrs Reed was an ardent fan of these but her fervency was somewhat diminished by the fact that we were all treated to a sight of her bloomers whenever she sat on the assembly stage. 

It was four years after these encounters that I first heard about God.  The idea that he was a light or force of love had stirred questions but not deep thought.   In 1986, when at the age of twenty-one a relationship I was in came to an end, I arrived, devastated on the doorstep of friend.

Mrs Powell was a much-loved family friend who had even taught my sister in junior school.  I sat crying in her house that Friday night, thinking my world had ended.  She told me that God understood my pain and wanted to help me.

She told me He loved me and shared the gospel message about Jesus laying down His life so that all of mankind could have access again to the presence of God.    I have to admit that at the time I felt irritated,  if you knew me then you would know that my tongue could be sharp, but I loved and respected her too much to stop her.   I listened reluctantly, stayed the night and headed home to my parents the next morning.

Throughout that Saturday the words, “Jesus loves you” literally haunted me.  I tried to drown out this persistent voice with TV and music, but could not escape it.   By Sunday afternoon, I had had enough and came to the decision that “If God is real I had better find out more – if he isn’t then what harm is there in trying!”

My parents had moved to an area I didn’t know so I didn’t know where to start.  Impulsively, acting on the age-old-parental-advice that, if you are ever lost, “ask a policeman,” I instinctively picked up the yellow pages and dialled the local station.  

“Somebody has told me about Jesus,” I said, “I am new to the area and want to know more!”  We both perused the church listings and settled on an Elim Pentecostal church in Saffron Walden, Essex.  No doubt they thought they had a ‘right nutcase’ on the phone.  I had no idea what Elim or Pentecostal meant but took the plunge and dialled the number.   Somebody has told me about Jesus,” I said, “can you help me find out more!”  A lovely giant of a man, retired Pastor Len Ridgewell, answered the phone.  “I can help you,” he said, “would you like to come around?”  We agreed for me to go around at 6pm that night.

I am not exaggerating when I say that my car stalled all the way there, so much so that I almost turned back.  When I arrived I was warmly greeted by Len and his lovely wife Constance.  They answered all of my questions and towards the end I had an inkling that I wasn’t going to get out of the door without letting them pray for me.  I knelt in the middle of their lounge, as they suggested, and Len prayed.  

As soon as he touched the top of my head a burning heat swept through my body so that I almost felt faint.  I still did not really understand what was happening but I knew that something had dramatically changed, something was different.

My family had seen the change in me from the start although they teased me at first, expecting my new found faith to fade away in time.  My mum found the Lord in December 1988, just six months before her battle with Cancer ended the next June.   Before she went home my dad, sister and I were witnesses to a peace that can only be described as supernatural when she told us, “Jesus is here and his angels are here.” A nurse came in to give her more morphine just afterwards and my dad told her mum didn’t need it.  She didn’t, her whole demeanour had changed from battling to ease ... just before she left. 

Twenty three years on I can honestly say that I have never doubted the existence of God.  It wasn’t long after being saved that I understood that God Himself is a Spirit and that He communicates to us by His Spirit to our spirit.    It makes perfect sense then, to me, that if there were a counterfeit presence or representation of God in the earth, it would reveal itself spiritually to people and would use the things that are dearest to them to draw them in.  

I do not now believe that we can speak or communicate with the dead and even consider searching down that path a dangerous pursuit.  I am still amazed, however, that God would use the words of a medium to capture my attention and draw me to Himself.    My life could have been so devastatingly different had He not done so.

After mum went home I felt a strong need to get into the Word of God and travelled alone to Australia, having enrolled in a Brisbane Bible College.  It was here I met my wonderful husband and began a new adventure downunder.

I thank God continually for His amazing grace. He led me out of that sparse and life-less winter season of living, where I was always trying to find “the something” that would make me truly happy or secure, and into a Spring season where I could find purpose and understanding through knowing Him. 

In Spring life can’t help but blossom and grow all around us.  As the scriptures describe, it is a time of singing ... which to me speaks of inner freedom and peace and Joy. 

Bev Holmes-Brown lives in Brisbane, Australia.  In 2001 she began Link-Zone, a Christian Resource ministry with a mandate to “Bring the Body together in specific interest areas and to Believe and Pray for the Reformation of Values, Systems and Wisdom.“ In the last nine years Link-Zone has focussed on praying for governments, communities and ministries.  ‘We are currently transitioning,’ Bev says, ‘believing the Lord wants us to begin to tell people’s stories.  There are so many people living amazing and victorious lives for God against the odds, we want to hear from them, to understand their hearts and glean the treasures that God has laid up in their hearts for our own breakthroughs.    Of course we will continue to feature our favourite columnists and will not give up on praying but we believe this is a season where God wants us to identify and clarify the frontlines that need our support.   It’s exciting to venture into whatever He lays upon our heart. The website can be found at www.Link-Zone.net  Contact Email: bev@link-zone.net