Victory in Jesus

On a cold winter day, the wife of my employee came to my office. I knew the family well and had supported them many times before. Full of worry, she said, “My husband hasn’t come home for two days. It was payday—he’s probably been drinking excessively again. In this freezing cold, he could be lying somewhere in the cold or even have frozen to death!”

Her husband had been working out of town and had been expected to return the previous day on his bicycle. Since he suffered from depression and mental health problems, her fears were not unfounded. I tried to comfort her as best as I could and advised her to check at the business one more time before calling the police. I promised to drop by at her place afterwards.

Late that evening, at 10 o’clock, I managed to reach her apartment. A heartbreaking scene awaited me. The man sat at the kitchen table, hunched over with his head resting on his arms. He was sobbing and trembling all over. Four small, frightened children stood nearby, while his wife, with tear-streaked eyes marked by sorrow, stood beside him—after a heated argument.

When I spoke to him and expressed my relief that he was home, he responded with wild insults and curses. I asked myself: “What could I do?” Wasn’t this hopeless? No! I knew: There is victory in Jesus! He can change any heart, and He can also use me as His instrument.

I spoke kindly to him and urged him to start a new life. Suddenly, he jumped up and cried out in despair, a cry that still echoes in my mind: “Tell me, who can help me?” I told him plainly, “No person can help you. But Christ, who was victorious over hell and death, can. Whom the Son sets free is truly free! Tell Him your troubles—He will give you the strength you need.”

Again and again, he cried, “Who can help me? I need to know!”  This was the cry of a soul tormented by Satan, longing for freedom, and longing to escape the darkness. I knew there was hope—because Christ had started working in him.

He had been raised in a Christian home, and the blessing of his upbringing was not entirely lost. I reminded him how beautiful life is with God, free from the chains of sin. And I urged him to imagine how his wife and children would rejoice with him if he chose this path.

And then, his hardness suddenly melted away. He showed sincere remorse. After agonizing and pleading with God, he promised that he would have a colleague pick him up on paydays. He also vowed to give up drinking entirely. When I invited him to attend church with me, so that he could find strength and support, he immediately agreed—and his wife was just as determined.

As I left the small apartment late that night, every face was beaming. And above the door, invisible but certain, was written: There is victory in Jesus!

A hopeless drunkard had become a child of God—one who had gratefully grasped the outstretched hand of Jesus and never wanted to let go again.