My name is Nate, and I’m 27 years old. About eight or nine months ago, I found out that my girlfriend of eight and a half years had cheated on me. We were high school sweethearts — we met when we were just 16. What drew me to her was her smile, the way she looked […]
Craig Smyth
“My name is Craig. I’m a 60-year-old Kiwi who spent most of my life in construction. Two years ago, everything changed when I had an accident. While carrying a heavy steel prop with two workmates, they lost their grip. The full 150 kg weight crashed down on my shoulder, leaving me seriously injured. I’ve been on a long road since — surgeries, recovery, and living on ACC [Accident Compensation Corporation]; but also a journey of transformation.
That accident forced me to face my health head-on. At the time, I weighed over 110 kilos, felt constantly tired, and was deeply unhappy. My doctor warned me that if I didn’t change my lifestyle, I was heading for a stroke or heart attack within two years! That hit me hard. I knew it was now or never.
I committed to a complete reset — cleaner eating, daily exercise, and accountability. I switched to a high-protein, low-carb carnivore-style diet, cutting out processed foods and sugar. This is an extremely restrictive, high-fat diet consisting entirely of meat, fish, and animal products: chicken, beef, ham, eggs, sausages etc., eliminating all sugars, fruits, vegetables, grains, nuts, and seeds. It wasn’t easy, but it worked. Bit by bit, the weight came off. The energy came back. The spark returned. This has improved my mental clarity and reduced inflammation with risks of nutrient deficiencies and high cholesterol levels.
Today, I weigh 77 kilos — that’s over 30 kilos lost. My doctor says my body is balanced, my heart is healthy, and I’m within my ideal range. But the real victory is how I feel: strong, focused, and alive again.
Now, I’m channeling that new strength into something bigger than myself. Starting March 1st, I’ll be walking 12 hours a day for seven days around Cornwall Park: a massive journey to raise awareness and donations for Starship public children’s hospital, helping children who are battling illness in Auckland and across New Zealand.
This journey is about more than fitness; it’s about purpose. I was given a second chance at life, and I want to pay it forward.”
My name is Jay. I’m 47 years old and work as a project manager.
Looking back, my younger years were filled with rebellion and anger—anger at the world, at life, at basically everyone around me. As a teenager and into my early twenties, that anger surfaced in all the wrong ways: heavy drinking, bad habits, car accidents, fights in clubs, and turning every situation into a mess. I was just being destructive.
Then something clicked. The penny dropped, and I realized there had to be more to life than staying stuck in rebellion and negativity. I decided to channel that anger into something constructive.
I started going to the gym, got physically fit, and poured energy into my studies and work. I focused on becoming more positive. During this transformation, my faith grew stronger too. I discovered a real love for physical activity. The gym became my therapy—far better than any pill or counselor could be. It helped me process and redirect that old anger in a healthy way, and that shift carried me into adulthood.
Along the way, I met my girlfriend, who is now my wife. We fell in love, I found a true sense of completeness with her, we got married, and we built a family together with our kids. That’s where I am today.
Life settled into a good rhythm: physical fitness, meaningful work, a loving family, and a growing faith all came together. I started genuinely enjoying life instead of fighting against it.
That angry, rebellious kid is long gone. Now I’m grateful for the journey and the man I’ve become.
My name is Allan, and I’m 66 years old. When I was a small boy, my sister brought me along to Sunday school at our local Anglican church. There, for the first time, the stories of God, Jesus, and the Bible came alive to me.
Years later, while at boarding school in Cambridge, I was confirmed in the faith. Yet it wasn’t long before I noticed the hypocrisy woven through much of organised Christianity. Disillusioned, I turned away completely.
By the age of about 20, life looked good on the outside—strong in school, sports, everything a young man might envy—but inside I felt hollow. In desperation I cried out to God. Then, much like Paul on the Damascus road, a brilliant white light enveloped me, brimming with an overwhelming, indescribable love. In that instant I knew, without question, it was Christ.
Not long afterwards I joined the police force. There I met believers who followed the simplicity of Christ, holding to the Bible alone without religious extras. Through their example, visiting home preachers, and the clear message of the Gospel, I finally heard it in a new way. As a young officer, I surrendered my life to Him.
That police career stretched nearly 15 years. The work itself wasn’t the problem; it was the endless politics, crushing stress, and impossible demands that wore me down until my mental health buckled. I walked away. By then I had two daughters, but soon my world unravelled further. I made choices that clashed sharply with what I believed, and rather than live as a hypocrite—half in the world, half with God—I abandoned faith entirely. The years that followed brought ups and downs, yet true peace and joy remained out of reach.
I married again, divorced again, and life spiralled deeper into chaos: finances crumbling, relationships fracturing, everything slipping away. Looking back, I see now that God was letting my own plans collapse, gently drawing me home like the prodigal son in the parable.
After returning to New Zealand and beginning once more to listen to the Gospel of Christ, I faced terrifying moments I wish on no one. A demon-possessed individual tried to run me down with a bus; I glimpsed pure evil in their eyes and escaped by the narrowest margin. On another occasion, two people attempted to blackmail me. One stared with utterly black eyes and flashed the sign of the devil when I raised my camera. I recognised a fallen angel at work. Those encounters erased every lingering doubt: the spiritual darkness the Bible warns of is utterly real.
Then God began speaking to me unmistakably—rousing me in the night with precise instructions. Each time I obeyed, blessings followed in ways I could never have imagined. I saw myself clothed in filthy rags, yet still deeply loved. I repented fully, surrendered again, and once more the Holy Spirit flooded me with enduring joy and peace. I’ve started the long road of reconciliation with my first wife and our children. She, who remained faithful through it all, extended astonishing kindness; today we share a genuine friendship. Her grace showed me the transforming power of God in a life.
These days my only real fear is failing to do His will. I’ve learned of Hebrew ancestry in my father’s line, stretching back toward Abraham and Sarah, but that heritage holds no spiritual weight on its own—what matters is my personal walk with God. I sense a clear call to return to Israel, to share the truth that has changed me. God has not forgotten His promises to Abraham, nor the hope extended to Gentiles. The season feels close when Israel’s tribes will be gathered home. Whether tomorrow or in a thousand years, no one knows the hour, yet I feel an awakening stirring.
Through everything, God has given me a profound love for souls. The way I see people has shifted entirely. I once considered myself kind enough, but now each person carries new depth in my eyes. And because of the journey I’ve walked, death holds no terror. If tomorrow is my last day, so be it—God holds me, and if He asks me to lay down my life in His service, that’s exactly where I want to be.
Patrick
“Meet my incredible husband, Patrick Woodcock—a true warrior who rises every day with courage that deserves all the high-fives! His journey hasn’t been easy, marked by deep loss and battles that would test anyone’s strength. The “Sacred” heart tattoo on his chest honors his teenage girlfriend, lost to suicide—a heartbreak that sent him spiraling into a 15-year struggle with cannabis addiction. Then came the devastating loss of his father to bowel cancer, pushing him deeper into a darker world of methamphetamine.
When we met, Patrick was still caught in that storm. But love has a way of lighting the path. A few years into our relationship, I gave him a choice: a life with me or the life he was living. He chose us—quitting drugs cold turkey, a feat of sheer willpower. Alcohol crept in as a new challenge, but when faced with another ultimatum, Patrick tackled it with the same fierce determination. Today, he’s proudly two years sober!
But life threw another curveball. A brutal road rage incident left him with a severe head injury after being run over by a ute [Kiwi for pickup truck]. Violent seizures followed, so intense that doctors had to place him in a 36-hour coma to protect his brain. Coming out of it, Patrick had to relearn the basics—putting on clothes, even remembering my name. For someone so brilliant and quick-witted, losing that spark was crushing. Yet, he’s never stopped fighting.
With unwavering grit and my support, Patrick’s been rebuilding himself, piece by piece. He’s now about 70% of the man he once was—and he’s still climbing. Now, as we look forward to welcoming our first child, I’m in awe of his resilience. Patrick doesn’t just survive; he thrives. Here’s to a man who proves every day that no matter how hard life hits, you can rise again.”
(c) Ilan Wittenberg
Andrew John Williams
Kia ora! I’m Andrew John Williams, a proud 56-year-old with Māori and Scottish roots, hailing from the Ngāpuhi iwi through my father’s side, the first missionaries in Russell, Bay of Islands. My life’s been quite the journey! At just three weeks old, I faced a life-threatening condition with no oxygen reaching my brain. Back then, heart surgeries were no small feat—no fancy keyhole procedures. I was one of the first babies in New Zealand to undergo this operation, and while two of the five didn’t make it, I was one of the lucky three who pulled through.
Growing up wasn’t without its challenges. My mum battled breast cancer twice, undergoing double mastectomies. It was a tough time for our whānau, but we came out stronger together. As a kid, I had my fair share of mischief—stealing money from my parents’ tin box at ten years old, only to learn my lesson when they threatened a trip to the police! By 13, I was at it again, taking my sister’s car with a mate for a joyride spin. Let’s just say I timed my exit perfectly, I jumped out of the car before he crashed it, but I still had to pay for the damages.
Life’s taught me resilience, and I’m grateful for the lessons and the good times. Now, I’m on the hunt for a new chapter, looking for a job opportunity in security or customer service. Here’s to embracing the journey and what’s next!
#LifeLessons #Resilience #NewBeginnings
Calvin Chan
“My name is Calvin, originally from South Africa, now calling New Zealand home since 2000. Growing up wasn’t easy—back then, I faced challenges on the other side of the racial divide in my home country. When I arrived in New Zealand, it was a fresh start, but I carried heavy baggage.
I was drinking heavily, downing two liters of scotch a week, straight, no chaser, just neat. It was my crutch.
Three years ago, something shifted—a gut feeling, a higher power, call it what you will. I knew I had to quit drinking. So, I did. Cold turkey. Not a drop since, and I’m proud of that.
But life had more tests for me. Soon after, I suffered a double stroke on the left side of my brain, which affected my left arm. Then, just over a year ago, I had a cardiac arrest. My friend stepped in, keeping me alive for 45 minutes until the ambulance arrived. My doctor was stunned I survived. He told me the odds were slim—only a 25% chance of surviving a cardiac arrest in a hospital with all the equipment, and out in the world? A mere 10%. I’d beaten the odds, like winning the lotto multiple times.
Thankfully, New Zealand’s incredible medical system stepped up. They implanted a defibrillator in my chest to shock my heart back into rhythm if it falters. That machine is my guardian angel.
Through it all, I found a new path. I’ve been sober for three years, and I’ve discovered a passion for stone carving. In just a year, I’ve made progress that’s amazed those around me. It’s more than a craft—it’s my way forward, a new chapter in my life”
I’m still here, defying the odds, and I’m grateful every day for it. Here’s to resilience, second chances, and finding beauty in the journey.”
Cory
Nick
My name is Nick and like every other person on Mother Earth, I fell into life totally unprepared for what my life might eventually become. My regrets (I’m sure like many others) I share a few, but the blessings I’ve received over following years have been many. While I could describe myself in many ways, maybe the most accurate would be that of an Adventurer. As I left school for the last time with the words of teachers ringing in my ears informing me that if I didn’t go on to university, I would ‘never amount to anything’..! Yet here I am after 30 years of traveling around the world (primarily on my own by choice), starting and running my own businesses, I realise now that the University of Life has enriched me as an individual, so very much more than any formal qualification could ever have.
Contrary to what we are all taught in school, ‘Life’ and what you make of it, and who we become, is determined by those experiences that we expose ourselves to. And what we eventually become determines what we are all eventually able to give back to the world, and particularly those around us.
As someone that had a passion for the ocean and riding waves from my earliest years, I still enter the ocean virtually every day regardless of the season or temperature. I embrace floating silently on my back alone for the sheer sense of peace and joy that it gives me. I can only imagine that is largely because we are all 60% made of water, and that being in the water is the closest I have come to that wonderful sense of ‘going home’.
My life’s ‘career experiences’ have included working in construction and property development in New Zealand and Papua New Guinea, 8 years as a commercial fisherman on the Abrolhos Islands and 2 years as a full time gold prospector in Western Australia, being selected to appear one of the first Reality TV programs and starting a computer software import/export and distribution business at a time in the UK when I could barely use a computer, painting houses in Sweden during winters where each day only provided 2 – 3 hours of sunlight, time in the Canary Islands as a property consultant, and eventually back on the Gold Coast in Australia owning a 5 office Real Estate business taking Australian properties to sell in Japan. Today I own an online education business that I started nearly 10 years ago which makes a significant contribution particularly to young people with Special Educational Needs. In each of these involvements I never underwent any formal training, or had any qualification other than having a willingness and desire to ‘learn on my feet’. And if I can do this, so can anyone else; the only secret is “wanting it enough”.
If I had to highlight my single greatest achievement, it would be still being married after 25 years and fathering my wonderful children, and it is this that has been the most memorable and meaningful experience of all. In a time when the concept of ‘marriage’ appears to be less appealing for some, it has been and continues to provide as many joys as it does challenges.
Apart from my love for the ocean, I have a passion for expressing myself through music and the words I write. I play a couple of instruments and have a passion for creating Melody. Music remains the single most powerful form of communication with just a small handful of different notes having the ability to bring tears to another person’s eyes.
Through everything else, the single most important thing I would share is that we all have the ability to improve the world; just one person at a time, AND by being prepared to lead from the front.
Jesse Wynyard is the creator at Light Warrior Heroes. He is transformational speaker, hip-hop artist and master coach at Jesse Wynyard, uniting everyday heroes and empowering them to become champions. “I help ambitious, purpose driven individuals win in their personal and professional life on their own personal path to greatness.”
Hi my name is Syd Breeze, I had a bad incident happen to me when I just turned 21. I left work at 7:30pm, where I was wielding fire extinguishers. I was half-way home driving through Hobsonville, tired and exhausted from work. I had recently just finished working on my car, a mini cooper, so I was quite excited to drive it. But then as I turned the ‘S bend’ a drunk driver couldn’t take the corner and came over to my side of the road. We had a head on crash, we were both doing around 60mph, the police told me that’s like hitting a brick wall at 120mph. I was a typical young driver and was not wearing my seatbelt. I remember hitting the breaks and everything slowed down, and my mind went crystal clear. I could see the drunk driver coming towards me, and thinking to myself ‘this is going to really hurt’. My mind went blank and dark, I got knocked out. When I woke up, I was looking over my unconscious body with the ambulance officers working on me. Then I realized I had lifted out of my body. There was no pain, no fear, I felt weirdly calm. Before I knew it, everything went dark again and I opened my eyes and they were pulling me out of the car and moving me to the ambulance. The first thing said to me when I woke up was ‘you’re very lucky to be alive’. I received just under 200 stitches from smashing my head into the window screen and scalping the top of my head, and then about another 20 stitches in my arms and legs. Luckily, I received no broken bones. One thing I learnt from this accident is how fast life can end, so enjoy it each day as it comes. I’ve maintained this attitude right up to 63 years old.
It feels like so long since you went away. We said we would do this together. Why did you have to leave?
I don’t feel strong enough to do this alone. I hide from it. I mask it. I wear a costume to be someone else. Someone happy. Like if no one can see the sadness then maybe I won’t feel it. But it stays. Someone said you must have been needed somewhere else. But who could need you more than we do.
She wants to know why you had to leave. I don’t know what to say. She wants to know when you’re coming home. I don’t have the words. She wants me to brush her hair the way you do. She wants me to do plaits but I don’t know how. She cuddles your teddy bear every night. We both do. She draws pictures of you. Pictures of our little family. We put them on the fridge and it breaks my heart. Why did you have to leave?
———
It feels like so long since you went away. It’s been almost twenty years. I was angry then. It was never your fault. If you hadn’t left I wouldn’t have this strength. I wouldn’t be this man that I am. I am the lucky one. I don’t hide anymore. I’m not afraid of being hurt anymore. I’m not afraid to love wholeheartedly.
She’s no longer our little girl. She grew up so fast. I wish you could see her. She’s the most beautiful woman. A loving big sister. She reminds me of you. She has your smile. Your laugh. She’s not much older than you were when you left. You would be so proud of her.
I still remember the day you left. I sat in the chair beside your bed and stroked your head. I told you I loved you but you had already gone. I’m sorry you had to go. I’m so happy our paths crossed. Our time seems so short but I will always be grateful for you. I love you.
Chris
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