In 1989, I was living on the streets of Vancouver, doing anything I could to survive, from petty theft to drug trafficking. I had moved there from my hometown of Barrie, Ont., three years earlier, attracted by the allure of Expo '86. And after a troubled youth filled with alcoholism and drug addiction, I thought this would be a fresh start for me. Little did I know what a disastrous decision that would prove to be.

Welcome Refuge
I started using drugs at the age of nine, a year after my father died. I had an abusive, alcoholic stepfather and by the time I was 15, I was living on the streets. By my late teens, I was a petty criminal who had been incarcerated a couple of times, and my alcoholism and drug addiction had escalated.

Once I arrived in Vancouver, two things happened. I was isolated from any family or support network I'd had in Ontario, and I got hooked on cocaine and heroin. Things went bad fast. From 1986 until 1989, I was homeless, doing anything I could to survive on the streets.

But throughout this entire period, whether I was in Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto or points in-between, whenever I hit rock bottom, whenever I needed a warm coat, a bellyful of food or a dry place to sleep, I knew I could find a refuge at The Salvation Army.

I didn't come from a religious family, but I always felt that when I was with this loving, caring group of people, I was in the presence of God.

Religious Junkie
In late 1989, my mother came to visit me in Vancouver. I'd always told her I was doing well, but she took one look at me and knew the truth. She never mentioned my alcoholism or my addiction. She just said, “C'mon home, son.”

She was smart enough to disguise her offer of a plane ticket as a Christmas gift to spend time with the family, because if she'd said she was bringing me home to get clean, I'd have said no.

I always felt that when I was with this loving, caring group of people, I was in the presence of God

But the move back did achieve its purpose. Back in Ontario, though I didn't get clean right away, I was away from the drugs and the crime. My determination not to settle for the life I led did the rest.

I entered a detox facility in Kingston, Ont., and from there, a treatment centre in Belleville, Ont. The six-week program stretched to six months. Months turned into years of sobriety and increased self-esteem.

A high-school dropout, I was encouraged to continue my studies. I enrolled in a business-marketing program, where I excelled. I took the street skills that had kept me alive for three years and transferred them into success in business.

But though I had been rescued from my addictions, I didn't have faith.

I became a religious junkie. I began to explore everything from native spirituality to Zen Buddhism but was never fulfilled by anything. It was all very interesting to learn about different religions, but I hadn't found God.

Letting God In
With five years of sobriety under my belt, I was determined to help others like me, addicts who were trying to escape their own private hells.

One man, despite all of my efforts, kept sliding back into the world of heroin. He was serious about quitting but innumerable roadblocks faced him at every turn. I did everything I could to help and encourage him, but my best didn't seem to be good enough. I didn't know what else to do.

So I made a deal with God.

I prayed—for the first time in a long time—to Christ, not to Buddha or Allah or the Great Spirit or whoever else I had read about. “OK, Jesus, help me out with this guy,” I said. “If he can stay clean for 48 hours, I'll check You out.” In retrospect, it was quite presumptuous on my part! I should have known that God doesn't do bargains. But I gave God my word. And when I'd been on the streets, my word was often the only thing I'd had going for me.

In spite of my audacity, God chose to show me His grace. Within 48 hours, all of the roadblocks facing this man were lifted, employment opportunities long denied him were suddenly available, red tape that had tied him was unbound, and all in the two days directly following my prayer. All I can remember thinking at the time was, “This is a miracle.”

I had made a deal, and now I had to keep my end of it. I went to the one place where I knew I would find Christ and people who would teach me about Him, and that was The Salvation Army Harbour Light in Vancouver. Thanks to devoted people such as Major Sam Fame, my Bible studies and prayer—lots of prayer—I came to know Jesus Christ in a very personal way.

It didn't happen immediately. I didn't have the instant conversion that some Christians talk about and I can't recall the day it happened, but I can remember letting God in. And when I did, I became flooded with a peace and a sense that everything was going to be all right.

The Gift
That happened in 1995, and for the last 15 years, I have been happier than I've ever been. Today, I'm married with two daughters. I have been blessed with success in the business world and now I share my story of faith with other businesspeople, for even in the corporate world there are people who live lives of quiet despair. I also speak at local high schools about what I went through. If I can save just one young person from going down the path I did, it's worth it.

It turns out that I was never searching for God because God wasn't lost. He was with me the entire time. It just took me five years of recovery to recognize that.

I know now that I am here, alive, because of God's grace, a gift I didn't deserve and a debt I can never repay. And every day I wake up determined to be worthy of that precious gift.