From Prisoner to Pastor

I was raised in a religious home and ever since young was taught by my father what a good person was supposed to be. He would tell me stories from the Indian and Sikh religious books (Ramayana; Bhagavad-Gita and the Granth Sahib). He was a strong believer in “Karma” and tried his best to tutor me into not falling into the “karmic cycle.”  

I would say that my father loved the family and that he worked hard to provide for us and did his best to ensure that we had a good education. My father was a medium and people from all around would consult him in their troubles. He was a popular fortune teller and would read their palms. He had set his eye on me to take over from him when I came of age – or “enlightened” he said. But somehow, I was never interested. To me, his beliefs made no impact. I was never a true believer in “god” and always thought it was a waste of time trying to discover who that “god” was.

My mother, on the other hand, was a Muslim and was the exact opposite of my father. Though she would always mention the name of her god, she was more interested in having a life of materialism and enjoyed the finer things of life. Because of my addiction, my mother didn’t want me at home because I was stealing things from the house.

That caused me to look outside the home for relationships and friends became very important. I loved the idea of hanging out with friends, whiling away our lives dreaming big dreams of freedom, and waiting for everything to fall on our laps. 

The culture of the day

It was around that time that hippie culture began sweeping all over the world. The idea of rebelling against the norms of society and being defiant against all authority seemed an attractive alternative. Also, the Vietnam War was another reason for us to give up on the conventional way of living. So drugs and rock and roll music became an escape from the harsh realities of life.

I had picked up smoking during my school days and delving into drugs became a natural thing to do. Four or five of us schoolmates decided to experiment with ganja by ourselves. We didn’t even know the proper way to smoke ganja. So for many weeks, we did it wrong until someone showed us how to do it. To us, smoking ganja and listening to rock and roll was like a religion. We adored the lyrics of the songs and made much of the words analyzing them and meditating on them.  

There were hardly any jobs available in Penang in those days and so I ended up as a parking attendant with the City Council. It was a four-hour job and through some scheming, I managed to pilfer some money from the daily takings for my drugs. In 1972, I got a job with the government in KL as a storekeeper where cameras, lenses, photographic films, and papers were stored (some of them really expensive). I was the only worker and I sold off many of those things to support my heroin supplies. With such easy money, I was getting more and more heavily addicted to heroin. After doing that for a number of years, one day my boss found out so I never showed up at my place of work anymore.

I then went to live on the streets of Bukit Bintang, working as a “jaga kereta” (parking attendant). I slept underneath the staircases. For many months, I never took a bath, dressed in the same clothes; I was smelly and ugly looking. Going into lock-ups, and being beaten by cops, gangsters, and people were not uncommon occurrences.  

A friend

A year later, I came back home to Penang. There I met up with an ex-drug addict friend. He looked different and was dressed smartly. A non-Christian friend had taken him to church and the Lord had set him free. He was then living in the drug centre run by that church. He tried to get me to church because he thought if I did the same, I too would be free like him. I told him I didn’t need any religion or “god” and if I wanted to, I could give up drugs anytime. Actually deep down, I knew that was a lie and I was making excuses. He kept on inviting me for many months until I landed in prison again.

After a year’s imprisonment, I met him and again he kept on insisting for me to follow him to church. Finally, on June 24th, 1979, I accompanied him to church. I am so glad I went. He was leaving for Germany the following week to join the ship “Logos.” If I hadn’t gone, I dread to think where I would be today. 

I remember that day like it was yesterday. The pastor was preaching from Ezekiel 37; “Can Dry Bones Live?” As he was describing how dry those bones were, I felt myself as dry as them, if not drier. Then he went on to say that the Lord Jesus could make dry bones live again.  

Please help me

After the service, I went forward and prayed a short prayer, “Lord Jesus I am helpless, please help me”. (Nowadays, my prayers are much longer!) I walked out of that church a different person. I no longer had any desire for drugs. Smoking was a bit of a problem. But each time I took a puff, I would get angry at myself for smoking and throw it away. After not smoking for many days, I would fall into temptation. Again, after taking a puff, I would get angry and throw the cigarette away. Eventually, that stopped too and I never smoked since.

I began to have a love for the Bible. Within a month, I read through the New Testament twice. Although I was a few-weeks-old believer, I was able to write down most of what the “Keswick Conference” speaker was talking about. I enjoyed attending church services and liked singing Christian hymns and songs. Often, I would sing out very loud and people would turn their heads to see who this crazy fellow was. I would walk for miles to attend Christian meetings. One night I was walking home so full of joy and singing, I fell into a drain. I got up and continued singing. An old Chinese man saw what happened. He called me “siow” (crazy).  

Most of all I cannot get enough spending time with God. I appreciated the fact that the Great God is my Heavenly Father and I was truly overwhelmed when I discovered that Jesus died for me. 

Even though I wasn’t craving for drugs anymore, I asked to be admitted to the drug centre because I wanted to know Christ more. There the Lord showed me my sins and I went through a period of mourning for my sins. I wondered whether the Lord would ever forgive all the wicked things I had done. I was in tears for 2-3 weeks. When I assumed that I was a hopeless case, the Lord spoke from Spurgeon’s “Evening by Evening” – “As long as there is mercy from the Lord, no sin cannot be forgiven.”  

Those words jumped up at me. All the heaviness in my soul was taken away that instant. I knew plainly and I felt deeply that God had forgiven all my sins and I have never doubted since. It was like in Mark 4 where the disciples were facing a storm and Jesus was sleeping. Mark said, “there was a great storm”. The moment Jesus woke up and rebuked the storm, “there was a great calm.” That was my experience. The Spirit bore witness with my spirit that “I am a child of God”.

Starting anew

After more than 2 years in the centre, it was time for me to decide what I should do. I kind of assumed that I was heading for Bible School. I was already preaching in church then and going to seminary was a natural and logical step. But one day after preaching about how God broke Jacob (Genesis 32), the Lord broke my pride and self-will. Finally, I told the Lord it was alright if I didn’t go to Bible School. I was prepared to even be a watchman like my father.  

Immediately as I said that the pastor came to me a few days later and told me that the church has decided I should go to seminary. I applied to seminary and was accepted. But when the acceptance letter came, I put it off for another five months. Instead, I went to help a fellow inmate who was called to start a new drug centre in Penang.  

When I came back five months later, there was a letter from the seminary waiting reminding me that there was still a place for me there. I took the letter before the Lord and said to Him – “Lord, You know this is not that important to me anymore.” That morning my devotion was from Isaiah 6. My attention was particularly drawn to verse 7; “Who will go for us; whom shall I send?” I realized that the question was not addressed to the prophet. It was a discussion among the Triune God. Isaiah overhead it and he offered himself; “Here am I, send me.” It occurred to me that like Isaiah, I too was presented with an opportunity, and like him, I too should grab it. So I found myself in seminary. There, I met a pretty and petite Foochow girl from Sarawak who fell for me. She wouldn’t admit it, of course. I too fell for her and we got married after Bible School.

I came back to work in the drug centre. Four years later, I went back to seminary and then became a pastor. We now have three children, all married. The first is a doctor and the other two are serving God “fulltime.”  

New name

My father gave me the name “JugDip” when I was born. Growing up, I never took to that name. I was considered a half-breed amongst my father’s people. That was until I found my name in Matthew 5:14: “You are the light of the world.” Jug Dip means “light of the world” and today I can truly say I fit that name.

Jo and I have been serving the Lord for the last 35 years together. I am presently a pastor of 2 small congregations where I preach in English and Hokkien. Josephine and our youngest, Marcus and his wife Lauren, help us in the ministry. By God’s grace, we were able to set up three village churches in Nepal. I cannot thank my Lord Jesus enough for all that He has done for me and in me, transforming me from a prisoner chained to drugs and self, to become a pastor, setting others free. Who but Almighty God can do this miracle? One of our joys is seeing our children especially our 2 boys serving the Lord – something we have instilled in them since the time they were young. For us, there is nothing more worthwhile (though demanding) than offering our lives to the One who gave Himself for us. We pray that our grandchildren will follow suit.