After growing up in a chaotic household, Anthony Whelan’s search for the meaning of life led him into a hedonistic, drug-fuelled lifestyle. Without a job, money or real friends – apart from his newly Christian brother – he had an encounter in his bedsit that changed everything.
By Anthony Whelan
I grew up in Southend, Essex, in a chaotic household with an alcoholic mother and siblings who were often in trouble with the law. The dysfunction at home shaped much of my early life, pushing me toward a reckless, self-destructive path. Drugs, parties, and aimless wandering became my norm, but they never filled the growing emptiness inside me. (Photo – Anthony Whelan aged 5)
In my search for meaning, I joined a commune, hoping to find purpose in shared ideals and a sense of belonging. At first, we all agreed on contributing to the rent and avoiding drug dealing, but those rules quickly dissolved. Tenants stopped working, and the house became a hub for dealing. Police raided us twice, something almost unheard of at the time. The raids made the local papers, and we began to talk about disbanding the commune.
The summer of 1976 was unbearably hot, the worst drought in England since the 1720s. Water shortages forced people to use street standpipes, and the relentless heat only added to my misery.
That year also brought deep personal loss. My grandmother and mother had died within weeks of each other during the brutal ‘Big Freeze’ winter of 1962-63, and now my sister was dying of cancer. I hitch-hiked to King’s Lynn to say goodbye. She passed away shortly after, and her death pushed me further into despair.
By then, my life, once fun-filled with friends, drugs, girls, and music, began to unravel. I had been to art school and was exhibiting drawings and paintings in the offbeat places around the town. All these things should have satisfied me but I was always left feeling that I lacked something. I said to myself one day, “I feel so dry” – but it wasn’t the weather. (Photo – Anthony in the late 1960s; he had a wandering lifestyle and was then living in Leeds)
My brother Mick had been calling at the commune house or at local pubs, where he thought I’d be, trying to tell me about how he had become a Christian. I argued strongly against the things he said, but I had a problem. I could not deny that he had changed. Like me, he had been in prison, but unlike me, he was no longer the shifty person he had been. No longer appearing deceitful or evasive, he had a new persona that intrigued me. I continued to argue with him over several months, but my resistance was waning.
Though I had little money and few possessions, I felt at peace for the first time
That summer, not only did God turn the heat up on the entire country, but he also turned the heat up on me; I was experiencing my own personal drought. I was doing all the things I had wanted to do, but was left with an underlying tension. I decided to investigate the ‘Christian thing’ Mick was bugging me about. If there was something in it or not, I’d find out. I needed to eliminate this irritating challenge so that I could get on with real searching.
Instead of simply being argumentative, I started asking Mick deeper questions. I went with him to a rehab centre for ex-offenders where he worked. One evening he invited me there because he was going to tell all the ex-cons the story of his conversion. I went along, hoping to expose trickery, but after hearing his testimony, I felt challenged. That night I really prayed to God for the first time. It was a simple prayer: “God, if you are there and you really have shown yourself to Mick, then could you please show yourself to me too?” (Photo – Anthony shortly after he had encountered Jesus)
A new perspective
In the days that followed, everything changed. I began to see the world differently; with a clarity I’d never had before. I understood that Jesus was God, and that my life—and all of history—revolved around him. The ideals I had once clung to, the dreams of peace and love – leftovers from the hippie movement – now seemed hollow. Without God, they were nothing more than delusions.
I tried to share my experience with my friends, but most of them didn’t understand. I prayed for them, hoping they would come to know Jesus too, but I soon realised I had to distance myself from that life. I couldn’t continue living as I had before. Though I had little money and few possessions, I felt at peace for the first time. Sitting in my small bedsit, eating a simple meal, I was filled with gratitude. I had finally found what I had been searching for all along. (Photo – Anthony with Carol, his wife-to-be)
My encounter with Jesus saved me—not just from a life of emptiness, but from an eternity without him. I discovered I had been on the path to destruction, but he had pulled me back and set me on a new course. I went on to settle down, marry and have a family of my own. A career in media production of various kinds developed and now, as semi-retired, I have become a writer and artist.
My life has purpose, and my heart is at peace. Though the journey hasn’t always been easy, I know I am not walking it alone. Jesus is with me, guiding me every step of the way.
This has been extracted from Anthony Whelan’s first book, ‘The Tide has Turned’, which chronicles his dramatic conversion and subsequent adventure-filled Christian life and revelations about the Church
(Photo – Anthony and Carol on their wedding day)