‘I’m good enough for heaven – if there is one!’ That’s what I thought until the age of 16. Why? Well, I hadn’t murdered anyone and I’d tried my best. This way of thinking echoed what I’d heard during my occasional church attendance as a child. I had been to Sunday School until about 13, but then thought there was plenty of time to think about religion when I was older.
I was brought up in a happy, stable home. To all outward purposes I had everything going for me. I had started on my A-level course, was planning for university, had no worries and an active social life. Something, however, began to gnaw at me inside and I kept thinking there must be more to life than the pleasure-seeking I and others were living for.
