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What is it about stories? Why are they so easy to listen to? Why are lectures so... not... sometimes... ?

We haven't got answer for those, but stories have been big in the Christian community since the early days. From Jesus telling parables to the testimony of early Christians, true testimonies shared have always been a powerful way of introducing people to the Christian faith. As Peter writes, we should 'Always have your answer ready for people who ask you the reason for the hope that you all have.' 1 Peter 3:15

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Where I found God in my uni experience

Looking back on it now, I wish I could say that in Sixth Form my main reason for applying to university was to tell people about my faith and to take the three years to run towards Jesus with all I had. But really, it was the stories of what other people had said university was like that made me want to go. I was so ready for the freedom. Being able to choose what and who you invest your time in, the constant parties and the amazing social life, the independence of not having to tell your parents where you are all the time and most importantly the holidays. Sixth former me was so ready to live that life. Although I was brought up Catholic, I was someone who put God in a box, and I had no int

Why I returned to my faith at uni

My experience at university was pretty radical. People often say that uni is where you really 'find yourself' and that always seemed a little cheesy and dramatic to me. 'Find myself? Nah'. Reinvent myself' was more my aim when I packed my bags in Wales and headed to Birmingham. I was very ready to leave behind my small town and go somewhere no one knew me, and just let loose. I went thinking 'you're going to make a million new friends, fall madly in love, and do some pretty wild things'. But in reality, I got there and yeah, it turns out we don't reinvent ourselves, we really do find ourselves, and my real-self was a whole lot tamer than I expected her to be. My conversion (or re-conversio

How my Catholic uni friends gave me hope again

Growing up, I was a lukewarm Catholic. My mother is a practising Catholic, and my father is a lapsed Anglican who usually only goes to church if there's a family wedding, funeral, or carol service. In our youth, my twin brother and I went through the sacraments of Baptism, Communion, Reconciliation and Confirmation though our parish, but these seemed to be more cultural than religious (I'll also concede that, as a baby, I can’t remember my Baptism...). Sixth form was a tough period in my life. To this day I wouldn’t be able to tell you what the trigger was, but I became increasingly depressed. What little faith I had was smothered by stress and pessimism. I'd intended to study History and Po

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