Conversion Testimony of Henoc
God Still in the Business of Miracles
My name is Henoc Eklou. I come from an animist family in Togo. Before I was born, my mother gave birth to four girls and a boy, but unfortunately, the boy later died. My mom was very sad because she wanted to have another boy. She then got pregnant and gave birth to my older brother. But a few years later, my brother got sick and became physically disabled (paraplegic). My mom visited the voodoo priests, looking for help to get a boy child. She finally got pregnant and gave birth me. I was given the name Houkpati, which means the tree of the shrine.
From birth, I continuously got sick, regularly visiting the hospital but without healing. The voodoo spirits asked me to become their follower. My mother did not want their initiation and rituals for me, but because I was sick all the time, she felt forced to make sacrifices to the voodoo spirits so that I could get better. But it was a waste of time. I continued to suffer from severe anemia, along with incurable abscesses.
After my mother made these sacrifices to the voodoo spirits, my health got better for a time, and I was sent for an apprenticeship in the field of industrial mechanics away from my hometown, to another village near the sea port area of Katanga.
American missionaries with a Youth With A Mission ship visited our village. They preached the Gospel and provided humanitarian/medical aid. My mother hosted some of the missionaries in her home, taking good care of them and fulfilling her role as a person of peace despite being an animist.
One of the missionaries among them prophesied about my life, saying that I would be a missionary like them one day. Then, he gave me the name Henoc, which he wrote on one of the pages of the Bible that he gave me. He said that I would be a servant of God all my life.
After my training in industrial mechanics, I got seriously ill again so could no longer work.
The illness got so severe, my parents expected me to die. Despite doing many medical tests, nothing was ever diagnosed.
Then, on a night in April 1999, I had a terrifying dream.
I was wandering in a great desert land. Suddenly, I fell into a very deep and dark pit where I could not see the bottom. My clothes became snagged on the small root of a tree, preventing me from moving. I was stuck on this root in the deep pit. All at once, I saw a large and shining hand held out to rescue me. I heard a voice saying, "I have come to save you, but you must serve me until you die."
I answered this voice without hesitation with "yes," then this hand brought me out of the pit.
When I woke up, I had tears flowing from my eyes and a great fear took hold of me. I went to my Bible (the gift from the missionary) and held it tightly.
As it was an early Sunday morning, I decided to go to the church planted by those missionaries during their visit. On the way, I became weak, so I decided to attend another church closer to my home. The theme of the sermon was: "The power of the cross." At the end, the pastor gave an altar call to those who wanted to give their life to Jesus. I was the first person to stand up. The pastor led me in a prayer of confession. I accepted Jesus in my heart and was completely healed physically in that moment and have never suffered again since!
Soon thereafter, my mom also gave her life to Jesus, as did my whole family. My father died at the age of 80, but before he died, he also gave his life to Christ.
Today, God has allowed me to be a missionary, fulfilling the prophecy of that American missionary. I work as a pastor and church planter with One Mission Society, serving as the VCP supervisor for Midwest Africa.
Luke 1:37 says, "Nothing is impossible to God." My call to the ministry was communicated to me early on, and I thank God for preserving me. Indeed, he has rescued me and brought me back to his wonderful light. I give God all praise and glory!