“I had waited 26 years for that moment- to find out just how much Jesus loved me and what he had done for me.”

Guilt, condemnation and confusion- that’s how Debbie Doody saw life with God.

That is until she met the real Jesus.

“I was made to feel that Jesus was very strict- like he was just looking at you and judging you,” she said.

“I now know that he’s as loving, gracious and merciful as I had known deep down and what he’s done in my life is just amazing.”

Brought up as a strict catholic, religion played a big part in her life. But despite her commitment, she had so many questions and doubts about what she was being told. 

“I knew that as a catholic, those were the rules and you just abided by them,” she said.

“For me, the worst thing was confession and I hated going to tell the priest what I had done wrong. It was worse at school because you had to face him. Sometimes you couldn’t confess because you thought some things were too bad and then you would feel guilty about that. But by next time there were more added to them.

“This was very upsetting and embarrassing as a child. We were taught that we had to strive to get into heaven and before you even got to heaven, you had to go to purgatory. I know now that it’s not biblical, but that frightened me as a child. I thought that if I couldn’t remember all my sins, how was I ever going to get out.”

Despite her doubts, she enjoyed a simple, childlike relationship with Jesus.

“I had read about him in books and knew how much he loved children and how much he loved me- as a child you don’t have any of that fear or condemnation of yourself,” she said.

It was the death of her strict catholic grandfather that prompted her to start asking questions.

“This was pretty abnormal for a child, but I wanted to know why I had to suffer the embarrassment of talking to a man about what I had done wrong and why I couldn’t just talk to God myself,” she said.

“I wanted to know if the wine really did turn to blood in communion- surely that couldn’t possibly happen; and if the priest really believed what he was talking about. But I was just told that was why you had faith. No one would give me an answer.”

Angry with God for the death of her granddad, her faith started to break down and eventually she stopped attending church. A move to Blackpool from Derby also led to her descent into the town’s drug culture.

“It was hard for me to form friendships at school because everyone already had their friends, so I got to know people near our hotel, who were into drink and drugs- I had nothing else in my life at the time,” she said.

“I would come home in some right states, but even then, sometimes I would find myself wandering into a catholic church. I was desperate to find peace, but I felt trapped and there seemed to be no way out.”

Debbie became pregnant and knew that she had to change her lifestyle for the sake of her baby.

She said: “I think God had his hand on me even then, because at that time, my friends had started to get into hard drugs like heroin, which is how I would have ended up. Half of them are dead now.”

She started attending church again and after escaping a particularly abusive relationship, finally met Steve Doody.

The couple moved in together, but Steve showed little interest in church. Unknown to her, he was a Christian who had turned away from God.

“It was important for me to be with someone who knew God, but he wouldn’t talk about it,” she said.

“He came to the Catholic Church with me once, but wouldn’t go back.”

Eventually Debbie stopped going and the couple started drinking and taking cannabis. Soon they were in debt from what became £100 a week habit.

“We hit rock bottom and were on the verge of splitting up, but I was crying out to God. I was saying I need help- I’ve got nowhere else to go and I keep going to church and I’m faithful, but are you to me,” she said.

The turning point came when she went to the Catholic Church one Sunday and found it locked. Previously Steve’s brother, Andy had told her that he had been talking to Rev. Simon Page at the nearby Clifton Christian Centre.

“Normally I would have gone home, but something inside told me to go to this church,” she said.

“But as I went in, it was so unlike what I was used to. There was no priest in robes, just a minister in a suit. There was no crucifix, no alter. I said to God: ‘Right Lord, if you want me to go in there, you’re going to have to get someone to bring me in,”

At that point, a lady turned round and asked Debbie to come in. Debbie tried to leave, but the lady came to get her.

“Simon was preaching about the crucifixion- he talked about how big the nails were that pierced Jesus’ hands, how he was beaten, how his beard was torn off- it was really grabbing hold of my heart, what Christ had done for me,” she said.

“I had never understood the spiritual side of Jesus having the sins of the world upon him, no one had explained that, but Simon said that if I was the only person in the world, Christ would have still done it for me, because he loved me that much. It was like a sword that pierced my heart. That was all I had wanted to know- 26 years I had waited for this one day to find that out.”

Debbie cried all through the service and rushed home to Steve.

“He thought something awful had happened- I was in a right mess,” she said.

“I told him: ‘The catholic church was closed...’ he said: ‘Never mind, you can go next week.’ but I said: ‘No, that’s not it! I went to that church down the road and I can’t believe what they did to my Lord.” She persuaded Steve to go back with her and that evening; the couple committed their lives to God.

Despite her new-found faith, she found it hard to let go of her catholic past.

“In a lot of ways it was like a grieving process. It was such as sense of loss for everything I had ever known,” she said.

“I particularly had a struggle with Mary, because I felt like I loved her and she had so much status in the church. I had all the carvings and pictures of her. But one day, God said to me clearly: “I am the way the truth and the life.’ I went home and threw away every religious thing I owned. Steve came home and said: ‘Oh, a bin full of Mary’s!’

“But I felt that something had lifted when I had done it- it was like I had been oppressed by it and had finally let it go.”

Now, three and a half years later, the couple are married and part of the church’s worship group.

“God has changed me so much,” said Debbie.

“I was so nervous and had no confidence, so it’s a miracle that I’m now in the worship group. I also never thought of myself as a good mother and couldn’t relate to children at all. God’s turned that around completely and now I love being around them.”

Debbie has also seen her own son, Jordan, now aged 13, become a Christian.

“He’s so on fire for God and is such a brilliant witness. I never want him to feel condemned by religion as I was,” she said.

“I felt very angry with the catholic church because I couldn’t find Jesus there and when I tried to take steps towards God, I kept getting thrown back with more baggage. I had felt like I was swimming in a deep sea and couldn’t get to the top for air. I feel now like God’s given me fresh air to breathe. Without God I’m just the same sad old Debbie as I was before I knew him. He’s given me the role of a mother I never thought I would have, the role of a wife I’m so proud to be and he’s changed my heart completely. Whatever he wants to do in my life, I completely trust him with everything.”

Debbie and Steve Doody on their wedding day