Meine Geschichte mit Gott fing damit an, dass ich als 5-jähriges Mädchen allein in den Kindergottesdienst ging. Ich wuchs in einem nichtchristlichen Elternhaus auf. Mein Vater war Alkoholiker, das Familienleben war chaotisch und bot wenig Schutz. Deshalb folgte ich der Einladung zum Kindergottesdienst und war jedes Mal tief berührt von den Geschichten über Jesus.

Später entschied ich mich, die Konfirmation zu machen, und während der Konfirmationsfeier fragte der Pastor jeden einzelnen von uns Konfirmanden persönlich: „Willst du ab heute dein Leben mit Gott leben?“ Ich antwortete mit „Ja“, obwohl ich noch nicht wirklich verstanden hatte, was Jesus für mich getan hat. Aber ich fühlte mich irgendwie sicher mit Gott.

Mehrere Jahre trug mich dieses einfache Vertrauen, auch wenn mein Glaube noch nicht tief verwurzelt war. Doch nachdem meine Ehe nach 3 Jahren zerbrach, empfand ich, dass Gott mir nicht mehr helfen konnte und beschloss, dass ich ab jetzt mein Leben ohne ihn regeln wollte.
Ich fand einen neuen Partner und nach drei Jahren kam unsere Tochter zur Welt. Nach außen wirkte mein Leben sehr gut, doch unterschwellig spürte ich, dass etwas fehlte ... Aber was?

Eines Tages brachte mich ein Kollege mit dem Buddhismus in Berührung und ich war sofort fasziniert. Binnen kürzester Zeit entschied ich mich, diesen Weg einzuschlagen. Ich tauchte tief dort ein, meditierte viel und verlor dabei das Familienleben zunehmend aus den Augen.

Eventually, our relationship fell apart because of this, and I left my partner so that I could be free to pursue the Buddhist path. I tried very hard to make spiritual progress, but it didn’t work—on the contrary, as time went on, I felt worse and worse. One day, while meditating, I had a strange vision: I saw myself underground in a dungeon with very thick walls. I was trying to use a large drill to bore a hole through these walls in order to get out. But it wouldn’t work. Then, suddenly, I saw a large cross on the wall and realized that I myself was hanging on it. I looked down at myself and saw that I was naked. And as I pondered this peculiar vision, I heard a voice say: "The whole of Antje must go on the cross." Surprisingly, this didn’t frighten me; I knew the cross had to do with Jesus, and I associated it with something positive. Yet, it did not lead me to turn back.

Two years later, my mental and psychological state had deteriorated further. I longed for healing. During a year-end meditation period, in which I meditated intensely on the "Medicine Buddha," the sky above me suddenly opened in yet another vision. A cross rose from below toward the heavens, with JESUS ​​hanging upon it. He was dressed in white and looked straight into my eyes—a gaze full of love that flowed from His heart to mine, and then throughout my entire body. I felt that I had been completely healed, and I was overjoyed.
However, the Buddhist leaders to whom I recounted this firmly rejected the work of Jesus, claiming instead that I had accomplished it myself. I knew this was not true, and I took the situation as a reason to leave the community. Yet, I still did not find my way to Jesus.
I was not looking for You;
I was looking for someone else.
And then, You were there.
You smiled at me from the cross, and
that smile struck the very center of my heart.
Your eyes shone like two stars
and met my battered soul.
My prison shattered—and I
breathed in freedom,
I breathed in healing,
I breathed in You.
How can I hold onto You?
I cannot—but You hold onto me.
My heart cries out only one thing:
I love You!
Into the inner vacuum that had thus been created, the teachings of a spiritual healer—a friend of mine—soon pressed in. I fell heavily under her influence and slipped deep into the world of esotericism. Using a pendulum and homeopathy, she “treated” both me and herself. Two years later, we both found ourselves in a psychologically dire state and were increasingly suffering from a loss of touch with reality.

In her case, things went so far that, one evening, she felt so intensely pursued that she took her own life.
I consider it a great miracle that, in this desperate situation, I found a pastor from the Protestant regional church who was knowledgeable about occult matters. But before saying anything else, he first prayed for me and my daughter. Afterward, he assured me that I was now safe because Jesus was watching over me. In that moment, I knew: it was true.
Nevertheless, it still took several weeks of crisis intervention and a foundational course on the Christian faith before I was truly able to trust JESUS ​​and entrust my entire life to Him. That day was an incredibly joyful moment for both me and my daughter. A brand-new life began—one marked by profound liberation from dark forces, deep-seated healing, and an ever-deepening relationship with Jesus.