I was formerly a steward of the “Tambourines Playing and Dancing
Church.” I began to lead a vagrant life at the age of 17, and by the age of 19, I had learned many fighting skills. In 1994, I got tuberculosis, and my wife deserted me, leaving me the child who was less than three years old. I sank into an utter despair, and attempted several times to commit suicide but was rescued. When I lost courage and came to a dead end, the Lord accepted me as His follower. Soon after I believed in the Lord, I was miraculously recovered. This gave me more faith and revived my hope for life. The meeting place was about two kilometers away from my home. I went to attend the service with my three-year-old child on my back, across the hills, in all weathers, and never missed a meeting. To repay the Lord’s grace, I was always zealous in pursuit. But later, things that appeared in the church puzzled me. The leaders had nothing fresh to preach, and the service wasn’t inspiring. The brothers and sisters received no new supply and gradually lost their faith and love. Later on, things became worse. The co-workers raised jealousy and strife, scrambled for power, and attacked and judged each other. The brothers and sisters had no love for each other, and abuse and fight often arose among them. The church attendance gradually dropped off. It reduced from about seventy or eighty to seven or eight. My zeal also grew cold, and I lapsed into the pleasure of sin.
