"Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story" — Ps 107:2
This is one of my favorite pictures. It was taken in April of 2018, shortly after I had shared my testimony to the young adult congregation at IEEC, and Pastor Paul Hanfere was praying for me.
My name is Andreas Galatis, and as far back as I can remember, I have always been a Christian.
My father made sure to instill discipline and faith in the life of my older brother and I from a young age, and my mother has always been, and still is the most loving and caring woman I have ever known. I was born in Ethiopia in 1979, in a time of war and struggle amongst my own people; and like many other desperate families seeking refuge, my family and I moved out of Ethiopia when I was four years old.
My father, who was managing a corned beef factory at the time, was presented with an opportunity to move to Mauritius, a subtropical island in the Indian Ocean, to manage a new factory. He accepted the offer and we lived there for seven years. It was the most amazing time of my life. I fondly remember how every Sunday after church, we would go to the beach as a family. We lived comfortably, thanks to my dad’s position, which included a nice salary with an all-expense paid house that rivaled luxury homes on the market today.
I was eleven years old when my dad’s contract was up and we set our eyes West, to the land of opportunity, to a country that captivated our imagination and fueled our hopes of an even better life. I was sad when we left Mauritius and said good-bye to my childhood friends, whom I would never see again, but my heavy heart was consoled with the reverie of what life would be like in America.
In January of 1991, we landed in Washington D.C.,
but our dreams of a better life were curbed as we awakened to the harsh reality of immigrant life in America. During our first year, the four of us had to move into a one-bedroom apartment with my uncle and his wife before we got a one-bedroom apartment of our own. While living in Mauritius, I never once had to share my room, but for the first few years in America, my brother and I didn’t even have a room to share. We slept on a sofa bed in the living room. My parents worked hard, and they did the best they could, given the circumstances; but we were unable to climb back up the economic class we once enjoyed.
The upside of living in the D.C. area was that it didn’t take long for us to find an Ethiopian Christian community. My brother and I began attending public school and we all began attending IEEC (International Ethiopian Evangelical Church) as a family; where Paul’s dad was the senior pastor. After a few years of faithfully volunteering at that church, my father was offered a permanent staff position as an associate pastor. He was officially ordained, and I became a P.K., a “Pastor’s Kid.” It was at IEEC that I met Paul for the first time, and although we weren’t that close, we attended the same youth group for some time; until life took us in different directions. After graduating high school, Paul moved out of state for college, while I remained in the D.C. area.
Paul and I are a little over a year apart in age and we are both the youngest in our families.
In addition, both of our fathers are ordained pastors that serve together at the same church, but the similarities end there. Twenty years after attending the same youth group, we never heard from each other, nor did we have a level of relationship that would prompt us to keep in touch. He lived out of state and carried on his own journey, while I traversed a long chapter of my life that would bring me to the brink of destruction many times over.
During my childhood days in Mauritius, I lived a very sheltered life. Aside from having all the pampering of affluence, the docile nature of my upbringing prepared me little for life as an immigrant teenager in America. Already a curious individual, I immersed myself into a rebellious American pop culture of music and television which laid the groundwork for the years to come. Although I was a smart child, bringing in nothing but A’s all throughout elementary and middle school, by the time I reached my senior year in high school, I had been suspended three times and nearly expelled from the entire county school system. If not for the grace of my English teacher, I would have had to graduate a year late. It was with God’s favor that I had earned my diploma as I registered for my first courses in community college with a below average GPA.
I’m by no means implying that it was my parents’ fault, but they were so pre-occupied with making ends meet that they were unable to restrain my ongoing insubordinations. Suspensions in school were soon followed with arrests for drug possession, which lead to on-and-off stays in jail and rehab facilities. My longest sentence was for six months in D.C. jail, but it felt like an eternity. My delinquency, paired with a bankrupt sense of identity, led me to drop out of college and capitulate to a life of crime and debauchery.
Those two decades after high school were replete with sex, drugs, and alcohol, as I indulged in every vice that sprung to mind. During that time, I somehow managed to get married and settle down with a steady job for a few years. I was desperate for normalcy and thought I was capable of achieving it on my own terms. I was wrong. It was just a matter of time before my addictions once again overtook me, and my life eventuated into sleeping on a park bench. I had hit rock bottom. My wife divorced me, my job fired me, my landlord evicted me, my friends deserted me, and my family mourned for me.
One night, in the summer of 2017,
with all my possessions with me in a duffel bag, I sat in downtown Silver Spring on one of the benches I occasionally used as a bed. Feeling rejected and abandoned, my greatest fear was that God had also forsaken me; that I had reached the point of no return. That night, in a moment of desperation, thinking the only thing left for me was death, I looked up to the night sky and cried out, “Is this it? Is this how my story ends? God! I know I don’t deserve your mercy, but please, just tell me if this is the end.”
No sooner had I finished uttering those words, I saw someone walking towards me from a distance. As he got closer, I realized I knew this person, but he could barely make out who I was, due to me being grossly underweight from all the drugs and filthy from a lack of personal hygiene. It was Paul. I had recently heard from a mutual acquaintance that he had been ordained and was leading a young adult ministry at the church we both once attended, and where both of our parents still served as pastors. But the only thing that mattered at that moment was that he served as a sign that God had not given up on me.
As Paul came near, he said, “Andy, is that you?” I could hardly answer. Flooded with tears, the only words I could put together were,
“Help me!”
After composing myself, I confessed to him that I had lost all control of my life and feared that death and damnation were imminent. So much so, that I even feared going to sleep, thinking I would never again wake up. He offered to place me in a motel for the night and I accepted. He prayed for me and encouraged me that this was a divine encounter, and that God would turn my life around. He invited me to begin attending the young adult ministry he led and went on his way.
With a new sense of hope and a belief that God was calling me back to him, I began joining Paul and the rest of the young adults at my old church. It was the last place I ever thought I would end up again. But this was no longer about my expectations, it was a matter of life and death, and I was finally ready to do whatever it took to surrender my life back to God.
That moment changed my life forever.
There was a lot of healing that had to occur, and a lot of repenting and turning away from everything in my past. Thankfully, my family took me back in and I spent months sequestered at home to detox while only coming out to attend Sunday church service and Bible study. All I did was read my Bible and pray every day, as I poured out my soul before God until my tears became my food. But God gave me profound peace, something I had longed for and never thought I would get back.
A year or so after that God-encounter, I had the favor and privilege of being part of the serving team that launched Overflow City Church, right where God met me, in downtown Silver Spring. I began with setting up the stage and chairs on Sundays to now being the lead of the production team. God healed me from my addictions, restored my relationship with my family, and placed me in a community that loves and supports me. With my parents’ help, I was able to go back to college and earn an Associate of Arts degree in Religion with honors.
Thanks to the discipleship of Paul and his wife Christina, and the opportunity to serve and worship God alongside the community at Overflow City Church, I have accomplished more with God in the past three years than I did alone in the twenty years prior to that. I was able to encounter God and discover my purpose in serving God. Paul and Christina supported me in my growth and recovery and provided me with leadership training, media production training and multiple serving opportunities. Last year, along with graduating, one of my joyful moments was launching this website, Streaming Nations. You see, we all have a story, a testimony to share, and I wanted to create a space and a platform for those that may not have the opportunity to do so. I want to thank you for taking the time to read mine and I hope it encouraged you and strengthened your faith in knowing that God will never leave you nor abandon you.
If you are reading this post and are in need of deliverance from addiction, depression, or any kind of physical or spiritual disorder, then know this, that if you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by openly declaring your faith that you are saved.
Please reach out to your local church community and connect with them. If you live in the U.S. click this link to find a church: Church Directory
If you would like to share your story, about what God has done in your life, send us a short message on this link: https://www.streamingnations.com/contact
"Some became fools through their rebellious ways
and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.
They loathed all food
and drew near the gates of death.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he saved them from their distress.
He sent out his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love"
— Ps 107:17-21