I was born in 1956, so that makes me 44 years of age. I’m married to Pat and have two boys Andrew 13 and Ross 10. We attend Carrubbers Christian Centre as a family, but it was not always like that.
I never knew my real mother or father. They left me at seven months in the capable hands of my 4-year-old brother, and my 2-year-old sister, Mary. Our parents took off for Blackpool. We were discovered locked in the house three days or so later. I was so ill I was rushed to hospital where I stayed for 7 weeks. A few months later, in January of 1957 both parents were given 30 days jail for cruelty and child abuse.
At that time the social services split families up, so that was the last of me having a brother or sister. I was later fostered. I grew up in Milnathort by Kinross and it could be tough because my surname was Little, and my Parents were Ferguson. Children could be cruel. Even in simple fallouts over a football, the parting shots would often be, “at least we have a real mum and dad.” You can appreciate I got into a few scrapes with that.
I remember being back in the ‘home’ in St. Andrews at the age of about 4. The caretaker beat me with a leather belt on several occasions. This man is now going through a court case for his treatment of the children in his care.
I went back to mum and dad and had quite a happy childhood. I attended Sunday School and heard about the life of Jesus. But the Minister left, and the church was never the same. It closed and that was the end of any Christian teaching.
All around I saw that people worked hard during the week and spent the weekend in the pub. I had a great desire to be the same. I left school as the youngest sports champion recorded at the time. Professional football seemed to be where I was heading, and I loved it. I was signed for Dunfermline Athletic. Unfortunately, they went bankrupt and cleared out all the young ones. Alex, who had looked after my football career, died suddenly at an early age. At the age of 17, I was devastated, and as things in the home were painful to say the least, I decided to join the forces. The biggest reason I suppose was to get away from a father who did everything to mentally abuse me. I was too big and strong to be physically abused. I just had to get out of that house. All affection and love had been knocked out of me. I just wanted away.
My fitness stood me in good stead. I excelled in forward observations and scouting because I was very good at being alone. I captained our football team in Germany and other sporting events. I learned to work hard and was rewarded with time off – parties, drink. I was getting good at drinking. In Germany I met Pat, we did everything wrong, and as I came out of the forces, she came home with me. We lived together till we married in January 1979. Prior to this I would join Lothian and Borders Police.
As a Police Officer I became very good at catching criminals, and I don’t just mean petty thieves. I stumbled over a Hotel robbery at the Rutland, and after a difficult fight with the armed robbers, I am still not sure if it was my stupidity or my stubbornness which won the day. There were several occasions such as these – no thief was a match for me. I was rewarded with alcohol, recognition and parties. After several years of this alcohol took over, off duty I was no different to any other drunk. Through debt I lost two houses. Everything we had was second hand. Not GOOD second hand, but the bottom of the rung second hand. Something had to give. I think my health saved me from being asked to leave. Both my knees packed up. I left with a police medical pension.
This was going to straighten everything out. Debt was cleared up, deposit put on another house, a car bought and that left £9000 and monthly income. The rest was spent in the pub over one year. By the first of February 1992, I had a wife, two boys aged 5 and 2, and was back in debt to the due of two to three thousand pounds. I had a heart attack at the age of 35, it was touch and go all night. I was left with severe Angina and a damaged heart. After a heart bypass I really began to get myself on my feet. I moved to the country, had my own gardening business – things were on the up and I was sure I had control this time. But I started smoking and drinking heavily again. The result was an attack of severe Angina in a different part of my heart. After another op, I was given the all clear on the 9th of June 1996.
On the 19th of June, after the boy’s school sports day, I took unwell and drove into the hospital while having heart attack. This was different from the first one. There was a lot of pain, a lot of fear. I was in intensive care. My heart was racing and pounding, the sweat was pouring from me. The doctors and nurses were running all over the place, giving me all kinds of injections. No one was saying, “There, there.” Or, “Everything will be fine.” No soft-soap this time. Everybody was too busy, and I realised I was dying. I thought of all the things I’d got wrong. The biggest sadness being that I had never really been a husband or a father, just a selfish man who took what he could, willing to accept the consequences later.
Well now was later. I was dying – all I could think of was what gate should I look for to get into heaven. This thought was with me for some time, till I realised I would not be getting in, even if I found it. I had the crying thought that if I was to die, not only was I to be punished but also my wife and boys. That did not appear fair. I prayed there and then, that God, yes, this God I had ignored all my life would take care of them. At this point I died. This was the point I was de-fibbed for the second time. The Cardiologist told Pat, that there was no hope. One hour, two at best. The time in the hospital is a story in itself, but after a few weeks I got home. Home to die.
Well things began to really look up. The car engine blew up. The farmer wanted his rented cottage back. Pat had to give up work to look after me. Apart from the pension there was no money. I was very ill and very frightened. Slowly though I started to get more mobile, this was fine but I was becoming a burden to the family. I was still smoking and drinking. The best I could do now was walking the dog. We got a mobile phone so that I could say goodbye to Pat if I took ill in the countryside. That was the state of my health, both physically and mentally. Funnily enough as I walked the dog, I gained strength, and I used to ask, “If there is a God, you fix the mess.” Even then I knew I had no right to ask. I was so angry at myself but blamed God. Why did he allow this to happen? If there was a God, he HAD better sort it out – I was certainly not capable.
I had the conscious thought – how was I going to change my lifestyle? One day I would give up smoking and drinking. I would eat a healthy diet. I remember laughing and the dog looking at me funnily. Still these thoughts grew each day – certainly to at least change.
Money was very tight, and I had said, “if there is a God, you fix it.” Some very strange things began to happen. I was told my pension had been underpaid. It was backdated and increased by £200 a month. A stroke of luck? Following on quickly behind this, the Mobility Scheme told me I was entitled to an extra £33 per week or the lease of a brand-new car! A car for nothing, right out of thin air. All we had to do was put petrol in it. Another stroke of luck? Surely not. But if there was a God, he was going to have to find us a place to stay. All the council offered was flats in the worst areas in Perth, on the ground floor – a target for everyone. It wouldn’t take them long to find out that I had been a policeman. There was no way out of this one.
Then there was a phone call from my cousin in Edinburgh, who had not been in touch for 10 years. She had not visited me in hospital or at home. Her conscience was bothering her – they had never done anything to help. Did we want to come and live with them in Edinburgh and then if anything happened to me (she meant dying) Pat and the boys had some family around. This was a bolt out of the blue. We moved. Not for a minute did I suspect luck. But what – surely not. Why would God, any God, be interested in our lives? We stayed with my cousin for 3 months. They smoked heavily and drank heavier. I was soon drinking and smoking again. We had to get out of that house.
We found a flat, but there was a deposit required so we had to sell everything we had. One of the items was a large toy. The transaction took about 10 minutes. That was on the Friday. I remember on the Monday morning, 1am being awake and in the lounge praying to this God I did not know. Saying to him, “ok, you got us here, now what? If you want me to go to church, then you had better choose. I can spit at 10 from this flat, they’re that close and numerous. Anyway, I would make a mess of it, so you show me which church.” There. That was that. If there was a God, let him sort that one out. Everything else could have been well, might have been, coincidence. I would like to see how he was going to get us all into church. Sarcastic as my thoughts were, I wanted to get things right – for the boys.
At 10 o’clock that morning the phone rang. It was the woman who had bought the toy on Friday. She wanted to speak to Pat, but Pat had started a temping job that week. Then this woman proceeded to tell me nothing. Well, not quite. I got the feeling she couldn’t get out what she wanted to say. She started to hesitate. I have no idea why I said this, but I asked if she wanted to speak to me about JESUS. Where did that come from? I was having a hard-enough time believing that there was a God, never mind a person called Jesus. That took the wind out of her sails but did not deter her. The woman, now our dearest of friends, Alison Renwick visited me at home, brought some books and invited me to church. Alison and her family picked me up that Sunday and I arrived at Carrubbers, that was October 1997.
I heard Wayne Sutton and Thom Cunningham at night. Somewhere in between I accepted Jesus. Each week Alison, Steve and family would pick me. I just sat and cried at every hymn. That went on for about 6 weeks. Then Alison invited me to the prayer night on a Tuesday. I still laugh when I think of what she said as we went into the Oak Hall that Tuesday. “Don’t worry if you don’t like it Bob, it may not be your thing.” Of course, I knew it was not a case that she did not want me there, just Alison being Alison, looking after your feelings. I loved it, but I did not pray for about 3 months. From the church services, to the prayer night, to the way of life, I realised I was changing. Everything of my past seemed to be so black. I went through the stages of hating myself, I was afraid, and I had a great realisation I was certainly not worthy, or this change in me.
But, by now I was beginning to realise that it was nothing to do with me but EVERYTHING to do with God’s grace. I began to eat, drink, and think of Jesus all day and every day. If God the Father would send His Son, and if this man, His Son, willingly die for me, then the least I could do would be to give my life to Him. In giving my life to Him each day I began to realise that there were many more just like I had been – that did not know. Oh, they knew the name, maybe, and if pushed knew that there was a God, but they didn’t know what was really done. I decided with all my heart that I would somehow take this message to others.
I started by demanding that the Pastor teach me the Bible. He stated from the pulpit one day that he was a pastoral shepherd and we were his flock. That he was responsible for us. Well that was good enough for me. So, one night I got a lift home from Wayne and asked to be taught the Bible. I was put with Peter Laing who took me step by step through ‘The Stranger on the Road to Emmaus’. That took 7 months. Then we spent the next 5 months learning Carrubbers core principles. Peter was a very good, patient and understanding teacher,
I praise God for the day that he brought Alison Renwick into this family’s life. I praise God that He sent His Son, Jesus, into this family’s hearts. We do not know how long we have but I pray that until the end I would strive forwards in the faith, so that Christ may be seen in me. Praise God. To Him be all the honour for this testimony.
It was only late on in my life that I allowed Jesus to control me. Don’t make the mistake I did and put it off until its almost too late.
Written by Bob Ferguson December 2000
(Bob died on May 18th, 2003 having spent his remaining years boldly proclaiming the word of God to all who would listen)
A Reason to Hope
I was one of four children, with a hard-working mum and dad. I didn’t do very well at school, but met a man who made me laugh, so we married when I was 18. The man who made me laugh, started to make me cry. He had a good job, a nice home, but he drank too much. Everyday became a battle of wits. Would I get to the bank before him, would he embarrass me at home or at work, would he be drunk or sober? Those were just some of the many questions that ran through my mind every day – but I loved him.
Yes, I was one of those women the media talks about – misguided, lacking self-esteem! Even then I held onto something, I thought it was my own strength – how little I understood that God was with me then – but I didn’t know.
Our family grew to include our two boys. The drinking continued, the good job disappeared, the nice home became empty, but I held on. I knew this man was in pain and searching for something, but I also knew it wasn’t me. He became very ill after two heart attacks and was left with a weak heart, no money and no way to earn a living – God had spoken to him.
He was wonderfully saved and brought into God’s arms. He stopped drinking. At that time, I was quite angry that God had saved him and I hadn’t – I ignored the church and the Bible. He took the children along with him to church and I felt I needed to go too, so I could control it all. I thought all these people in the church were good folk but didn’t really understand real life but God slowly changed my view. It was a painful experience, I cried more than I had ever done before. I realised after a year that God had put me and him together, that my husband had been saved from death to work as God’s tool to save the whole family.
It’s hard to accept that God exists in this modern society, but if you read the Bible slowly, very slowly in my case, it all begins to fit. All I ask of you is to open your hearts to a wonderful maker. He uses even people like me!
Written by Pat Ferguson December 2000
(Pat currently serves God at Carrubbers Christian Centre, Edinburgh, as Admin support)