My 6-Year Journey: From Atheism to New Age to Jesus Christ

I was searching everywhere—until i realized what I was actually looking for.

I didn't wake up one day and decide to follow Jesus.

If anything, I spent years trying to prove He was a lie—something people used to control others.

For years I thought I was searching for God.

But in reality, I was searching for control.

Why I Rejected God

Up until 2020, the world had its hooks deep in my flesh. I was asleep—spiritually dead.

I was building businesses to prove my worth—driven by a fear of survival.

Chasing one goal after another.

Trying to fill an inner void with pleasure after pleasure.

I was burying the reality of my failure with drugs and alcohol. I thought I understood it—yet I was far from the door. If God were real, why would he allow the pain and suffering?

First, I Had to Wake Up

It felt like everything changed in an instant—like there was no going back.

I had been living in an ego-driven state for years, desperately seeking validation from the world without even realizing it.

Looking back, I can see how much of my life was being shaped by destructive patterns:

• Adrenaline-seeking

• Substances

• Lust

• Work and achievement

• Obsession with physical appearance

• Popularity and validation 

At this time, I moved away from my construction company and was working as a personal trainer plus mindset coach.

On the outside, I was growing—helping others, showing up with heart and service. But inside, I was still bound by addictions I couldn’t break free from.

I was guiding people toward change while quietly struggling myself.

I opened many doors I didn’t understand. And yet, even there, God stepped in and met me where I was.

But something else met me there too, something dark.

Still lost—caught in self-image and the need for validation from the world. Looking for something to quiet my mind and bring me back to reality, I turned to psychedelics. In some ways, they seemed to strip away my ego and grant me access to deep hidden truth—at least that’s how it felt in the beginning.

But then something happened that I didn’t expect.

During one of those psychedelic experiences, I encountered something I can only describe as a dark, demonic presence.

In that moment, everything changed.

God met me right where I was.

And for the first time in my life, I knew—without a doubt—that God was real.

That encounter shook me to my core. There was no denying it anymore.

But even with that undeniable revelation, I didn’t turn toward Christ.

My past church experiences, paired with a barrage of spiritual misinformation, along with the brokenness I was still carrying, created resistance in me. Instead of running fully toward Him, I found myself pulling away in many ways—while buying the lie that I was on the path of truth.

So while my life had been radically altered, I was still searching for truth—and that search led me deeper into what’s often called new age spirituality. 

I Kept Searching

Even after that undeniable encounter with God, I barely understood what had just happened—or what to do with it.

I was still carrying wounds that turned me off from the Bible, and there were parts of me that resisted turning toward Christ. So instead of drawing closer, I began searching elsewhere.

That’s when I found myself diving fully into new age spirituality—although I would never have called it “new age” at the time—I argued that it existed before Jesus himself!

It seemed to offer what I was looking for—healing, awareness, deeper understanding of the self, God, and the universe. There were ideas that not only felt profound, but felt right within me, practices that brought temporary peace, and experiences that felt meaningful in the moment—for a while it all felt like I was on the the narrow path of spiritual ascension.

For a time, it felt like I was still on the path of truth. But over time, I began to realize something was off.

Even though I was searching for freedom, I was still anchored to myself—still relying on my own understanding, my own strength, and my own perspective of truth, alongside the teachings of authors, public speakers, and influencers of various kinds, or on the use of psychedelics.

The more I explored, the more I felt a growing tension within me. Something wasn’t aligning.

There was still a deeper longing that none of it could satisfy.

Looking back, I can see that I was still trying to reach truth on my own terms—still trying to build something apart from the One who had already revealed Himself to me.

And yet, even in that season, God was not distant.

He was still working, still drawing me near, still patient with me as I wandered.

The New Age Jesus

I thought I was becoming more enlightened—but deep down, I was more confused than ever.

Even with everything I had experienced, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward Jesus Christ.

But instead of running to the truth of who He is, I was introduced to a version of Him that fit into everything I already believed.

A “Jesus” shaped by new age spirituality.

A Jesus who wasn’t the only begotten Son of God—but a spiritual guide.

A Jesus who didn’t come to save—but to show us how to save ourselves.

A Jesus who reached a higher level of consciousness—and invited us to do the same through our own effort.

I was told He came as an example—not as a Savior.

And it sounded right.

It felt right.

Especially when it was paired with teachings from books like A New Earth, and influencers who spoke with confidence, clarity, and just enough truth to make everything else believable.

Many of them had come out of the church themselves—claiming they had “seen through the deception” of Christianity.

And I believed them.

I thought I had found something deeper.

Something more real.

I felt like I had access to truth that most people were blind to.

But in reality, I wasn’t moving closer to truth—I was drifting further from it.

Because I was still at the center of everything.

Still trying to ascend.

Still trying to become.

Still trying to reach God… without surrendering to Him.

And the more I followed that path, the more something inside me knew—

This isn’t it.

It looked like truth.

It felt like truth.

But it was leading me somewhere I didn’t want to go.

“There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” — Proverbs 14:12

And deep down… I knew I was on that path.

"And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light." — 2 Corinthians 11:14

What Drew Me to the Bible

If I’m honest, I didn’t want the Bible to be true.

There was still resistance in me.

But something kept pulling me back.

Not religion.

Not tradition.

Something deeper.

It started small—just curiosity at first.

Verses here and there.

Clips online.

Moments where I’d hear Scripture and feel something I couldn’t explain.

It didn’t feel like the other teachings I had been following.

It didn’t try to flatter me.

It didn’t center me.

It confronted me.

There was a weight to it.

An authority that didn’t need to prove itself.

And at the same time, there was something else I couldn’t ignore:

Truth.

Not a truth that shifted depending on perspective—but something solid.

Unchanging.

Alive.

The more I opened myself to it—even cautiously—the more I began to see something clearly:

This wasn’t just another spiritual text.

There was something different about this.

And deep down, I knew it.

I often found it confusing and became frustrated trying to understand it—trying to grapple with it. Then I began to surrender what was resisting it, and in a similar way to the revelations I once experienced on psychedelics, understanding began to come—but this time it wasn’t fleeting.

It didn’t leave me grasping for more.

It stayed.

In John 4:14 Jesus says: “But whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

If you want God’s word to transform you, you must remove what resists it, and receive it with a surrendered heart, because it is alive and capable of healing you from the inside.

“Therefore lay aside all filthiness and overflow of wickedness, and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.” -James 1:21

This is more than a simple call to “stop sinning.” It describes a spiritual posture change that determines whether God’s word can actually transform a person.

The Missing Link

For so long, I was searching for truth—but I was missing the one thing everything hinged on. So many teachings I absorbed were full of truth but perverted the one truth that matters most:

Jesus Christ wasn’t just a teacher.

He wasn’t just an example.

He is the answer.

As Jesus says in John 10:9: “I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.”

The new age taught me that I needed to become something.

The Bible showed me I needed to be saved.

That was the difference.

I had spent years trying to fix myself.

Heal myself.

Elevate myself.

But no matter how far I thought I had come, I was still bound.

Still searching.

Still striving.

Still empty.

Because the problem wasn’t just what I was doing.

It was my nature.

Sin wasn’t something I could outgrow.

It wasn’t something I could meditate away or rise above.

It needed to be dealt with.

And that’s what Jesus came to do.

Not to show me how to save myself—

but to do what I never could.

That was the missing piece.

The thing everything else failed to give me.

Grace.

Falling Again

For a while, it looked like I had it together.

I achieved 3 years of sobriety and I had built a life that, from the outside, looked disciplined and successful. I was helping people break free from addiction. I was coaching, teaching, guiding others into freedom.

And people were actually getting results.

But underneath it all… something wasn’t right.

The same patterns I thought I had overcome began to creep back in.

Slow at first.

Then all at once.

Tobacco.

Alcohol.

Marijuana.

Psychedelics.

Lust.

Pride.

Anger.

Depression.

I fell back into everything I once helped others escape.

And this time, it was different.

Because I knew better.

Every tool I had taught… stopped working.

Discipline didn’t fix it.

Working out didn’t fix it.

Meditation didn’t fix it.

Breathwork didn’t fix it.

Therapy didn’t fix it.

Spirituality didn’t fix it.

Psychedelics didn’t fix it.

Nothing worked.

And that’s when something began to break in me.

Not just the addiction—

My pride.

I had built an identity around being someone who could overcome anything. Someone who had the answers. Someone who could lead others out.

But now I was right back where I started…

And I couldn’t get out.

That’s when I was forced to face something I had been resisting for years:

I couldn’t save myself.

No matter how much I knew.

No matter how disciplined I was.

No matter how hard I tried.

I was still bound.

And the deeper I fell, the clearer it became—

This wasn’t just a behavior problem.

It was something deeper.

Something in me that I could not fix.

My Rebirth

This is how I know what I’m writing today is true—and that I’m not deceived like I was before. I wasn’t just transformed. I was reborn. Not improved, not adjusted—but made new.

Everything came to a head on August 10, 2025.

The night before was supposed to be fun.

A crash derby.

A celebration.

People getting together.

But like so many nights before… it spiraled.

Alcohol.

Marijuana.

Psychedelics.

“Just one more.”

One decision led to the next until the entire night became a blur.

This was the first time in a long time that I mixed psychedelics with alcohol. I lost control.

And by the time it was over… I didn’t even recognize myself.

The next morning, I woke up in a daze.

Still drunk.

Still high.

Head pounding.

Consumed with shame.

I hated myself.

I remember sitting there, realizing just how far I had fallen… and for the first time in a long time—

I didn’t see a way out.

I didn’t want to keep living like that.

I wanted it to end.

I wanted me to end.

And in a way…

That’s exactly what happened.

Just days before, I had cried out:

“God, I used to help people escape addiction… why can’t I escape now?”

And that morning, the answer became clear.

Pride.

I thought I was stronger.

I thought I could manage it.

I thought I could fix myself if I just figured it out.

But I couldn’t.

And for the first time, I stopped fighting that truth.

That morning, I drove to church.

I didn’t feel ready.

I didn’t feel strong.

I felt broken.

I sat in the parking lot, tears running down my face, smoking a cigar and drinking coffee—completely disgusted with myself.

I knew I couldn’t keep living like this.

So I poured the coffee onto the pavement.

Dropped the cigar into it.

And for the first time in my life—

I stopped hiding.

No excuses.

No image to protect.

No strength left to rely on.

Just honesty.

I stepped out of the car… shaking.

And I cried out to God—not just with words, but with everything in me:

“Take it all. Take me. I can’t do this on my own.”

For the first time, I wasn’t trying to fix myself.

I was surrendering.

Fully.

I walked into that church a mess.

Tears on my face.

Trying not to be seen.

But something was different.

I wasn’t there to analyze.

I wasn’t there to question.

I was there because I knew I needed a Savior.

I had known about Jesus for years.

I had heard it.

Said it.

Even believed parts of it in my mind.

But that day—

It hit my heart.

The cross.

The weight of my sin.

What He actually did for me.

And for the first time, I didn’t resist it.

I didn’t try to understand it on my own terms.

I received it.

And that’s when everything changed.

Not in theory.

Not in emotion.

In reality.

The chains that had held me for years…

Broke.

Not slowly.

Not partially.

Completely.

The cravings were gone.

Not managed.

Not controlled.

Gone.

No withdrawals.

No striving.

No battle I had to win.

Just… freedom.

Just like it says in Romans 10:9 — "If you declare with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved."

For the first time in my life, I understood:

I wasn’t transformed because I tried harder.

I was made new because I surrendered.

I had spent years searching for truth in everything this world had to offer.

But the moment I stopped searching—

And surrendered—

I found what I was actually looking for all along.

Truth isn’t something you discover.

It’s Someone you surrender to.

And His name is Jesus Christ.

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." — 1 Peter 5:8