I was brought up in a home with constant fights. My father was a police officer and an alcoholic. He drank so much that he would pass out on the street, and I was ashamed of him. His addiction caused him to become mentally ill. He lost his job and many times, he was taken to psychiatric hospitals, strapped into a straitjacket.

Seeing my mother’s suffering and all that my father put us through, I became depressed and anguished. I lost my virginity at 15 and from that moment on, my life was all about sex and drugs.

I was one of the first intravenous drug users in Brazil in the 1980s, when it all began there. Every time I had a fix, I’d have hallucinations. I started smoking cannabis, and when it no longer had any effect on me, I’d pop pills of Optalidon, Fiorinal and even Diazepam (Valium).

I remember that every time I was desperate to do drugs, I’d ask my sister what day it was. She’d say, “Friday,” and when I’d come back to my senses, it was already Monday and I couldn’t remember anything that had happened those three days.

At 16, I began to sell myself as a prostitute, to the point of having several men in one night. At carnival time, I would have sex with five men in one night, which included alcohol—vodka, beer and whiskey—and drugs—marijuana, ether spray and chloroform-based drugs. I suffered a lot because of my lifestyle. I wanted to have true love, but I had clients and nothing more than that, so usually, depending on the guy, I wouldn’t allow any kissing on the mouth. Many times, I felt disgusted with what I was doing. I wanted to quit that life but I didn’t have the strength. Then I became pregnant without knowing who the father was. Afraid of what my mother would do, I had my first abortion.

And so the consequences followed: I caught sexually transmitted diseases, and my mother had to spend a lot of money on medical treatments. Then, white spots started to appear in my hands. My mother took me to the dermatologist and he said, “Your daughter has vitiligo,” a skin disorder in which patches of skin lose their colour. She took me to six doctors and all of them said the same thing: “There is no cure.”

Unable to bear the unemployment, addictions, anguish, depression and the disease, I tried to commit suicide by overdosing on pills. But thank God, He already had a plan for my life. I came out of that depression and managed to find a boyfriend who did not know exactly who I was. I got pregnant again, and not knowing if he was actually the father, I had a second abortion (he never knew about this pregnancy). I met another man, who was also addicted to drugs, and we decided to live together. That was when I had my daughter. The only things that held me to him were sex and drugs, so it didn’t work out. We broke up and I left my daughter—only a few months old—with my mother, in Fortaleza (northeast region of Brazil), and decided to move to Sao Paulo.

When I decided to move to Sao Paulo, I thought my life was going to change. But when I arrived, I had no place to stay, no food to eat, and I had to hitchhike because I couldn’t afford the bus fare. I also went to restaurants and asked for food; I had nothing to eat. I missed my daughter, I had no place to stay, I had no food to eat. That was my life.

I remember clearly on a very cold night, I sat on a bench at an underground station, holding a plastic bag with some clothes in it. It was almost 11 p.m. A man appeared and I went to a hotel with him just so I could have a place to sleep. And that’s how I spent most of my nights—going to hotels just for a place to sleep. One day, it was almost 4 p.m. and I hadn’t eaten anything yet. I started crying on a street downtown. Suicidal thoughts started pestering my mind and I went to a bridge. I wanted to jump off the bridge and put an end to it all. I was completely desperate because of so much suffering and humiliation.

Suddenly, I walked towards March 25th Street, with tears in my eyes. I looked and saw a door and stairs; there was also an arrow and the word “Church” written on it. I climbed the stairs, following the arrow, without knowing that it was the UCKG. At the top of the stairs, I looked up and read: “JESUS CHRIST IS THE LORD.” It was so strong that I started crying on a bench, weeping bitterly. Only the pastor was there, counselling a man—it was not the time for the service. He came to me and I asked him, “Who are you?” He said, “I am a pastor.”

I opened my heart and said, “If you don’t help me, I will commit suicide today. I tried once and failed, but today I’ll keep trying until I succeed.” He was very wise; he listened to me. I was in tears. He called his wife and they gave me a cup of coffee and milk and bread and butter. I gobbled it up. He said to me, “This food won’t last, but we will give you another food, and you will never be hungry again.” They told me what to do in order to change my life. They told me about the Lord Jesus, the chain of prayer, and then they made a strong prayer for me, which made my desire to commit suicide disappear immediately.

I left that place relieved, with inner strength to continue fighting. I started making a chain of prayer, I took a tithe envelope by faith (I was still unemployed), and GOD began opening the doors for me, to the point that I got two jobs at the same time.

After 24 years, I’m here, telling you how I came to the UCKG and how my life is today. All of these 24 years have been a life of sacrifice. I am a totally transformed woman. I am free from everything that oppressed me. I am free from drugs and prostitution. I am healed and prosperous, but of all the changes that took place in my life, the greatest miracle is MY NEW BIRTH, MY ENCOUNTER WITH GOD. Today, I put into practice what the Lord Jesus said: “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).

In faith,

Liduina Loureiro