Roger’s Story
When Roger arrived in Birmingham, he carried with him a weight that felt unbearable. It was not just the practical burden of homelessness or financial ruin, but a deep internal darkness that had followed him for years. He felt isolated, shackled by shame, anxiety, and a relentless inner voice that told him he had failed. Though he tried repeatedly to suppress these thoughts, they never truly left him. Instead, they waited, growing stronger in moments of weakness.
For much of his adult life, Roger had been a self-employed plumber. His days were long and demanding, spent moving from job to job, trying to satisfy customers while keeping his business afloat. At home, life was equally demanding. He lived with his partner and their three young children, and he also had two older daughters from previous relationships. Expectations surrounded him from every direction: to provide, to succeed, to be dependable. Over time, the pressure became overwhelming, and he found himself unable to meet the hopes others placed upon him—or those he had placed upon himself.
As the strain increased, arguments became frequent at home. His partner worried about finances and his emotional withdrawal, while Roger reacted defensively, unable to articulate the fear and despair that was building inside him. Alcohol became his refuge. At first it dulled the pain, but soon it began to take control. Bills mounted, work became sporadic, and his motivation declined. Eventually, his partner was forced to sell some of his plumbing tools just to meet the children’s basic needs. Ashamed and exhausted, Roger began passing his clients to other plumbers and slowly disengaged from his trade altogether.
Though he tried to settle debts with fellow tradespeople and suppliers who had supported him, he felt less concerned about large companies and institutions. In his mind, the benefits system seemed a safer option for his family than relying on his failing income. When he finally moved out, it was with the belief that his absence might offer his family more stability. In reality, the separation only deepened his isolation. With no one to hold him accountable, his drinking escalated. Alcohol stripped away what little purpose he had left, and homelessness followed. Work, family, and hope all slipped further out of reach.
Three years before arriving in Birmingham, Roger’s life took an unexpected turn. In Gloucester, he encountered Kingfisher Church. At a point where he felt he had nothing left to lose, he confronted the reality of his selfishness, addiction, and brokenness. He chose to follow Jesus, not out of certainty, but out of desperation. The church responded with unconditional love, supporting him practically and emotionally, and helping him move into a dry house for people seeking freedom from alcohol.
For the first time, Roger experienced a sense of belonging. Friendships formed that felt more like family than anything he had known before. He began to face the consequences of his past, even as he mourned the distance from his children, whom he missed deeply. Though plagued by anxiety and guilt, he found strength in the steadfast care of his church community. Friends studied the Bible with him, refusing to give up on him even when he felt like giving up on himself. Slowly, his faith grew, and with it, a new understanding of God’s character.
Yet recovery was not straightforward. Affordable housing in Gloucester was scarce, and his struggles continued. The church helped him move temporarily to Bridgnorth, hoping the change would bring stability. Instead, Roger found himself battling ongoing addiction, isolation, and self-doubt. Having tasted freedom, his setbacks felt like personal failures. He questioned whether Jesus still loved him and whether he truly deserved grace. Memories from childhood resurfaced—of a mother who cared for him but was unable to protect him from an abusive stepfather. The absence of unconditional love in his early life made it difficult to accept it now.
Over the next eight months, Roger was hospitalised twice, each stay lasting ten days. At times, his health deteriorated so badly that he could not walk and was forced to crawl. He felt trapped in despair, stripped of purpose and powerless to change his circumstances. Yet, even when he could not see it, others continued to carry hope on his behalf. Members of the church prayed persistently, standing alongside him in his darkest moments. In hindsight, Roger would recognise this season as one in which God carried him when he could not carry himself.
Eventually, Roger moved into another dry house—this time in Birmingham. It felt like his final chance. His pastors recommended Riverside, and there he began to build new relationships rooted in honesty rather than pretence. As trust grew, he acknowledged a burden that had long paralysed him: debt. Years of unmanaged finances, unpaid bills, tax confusion, and penalties had accumulated into a crushing weight that suffocated his ability to heal or plan for the future.
Debt, Roger learned, was not just financial—it was psychological. It clouded judgment, eroded confidence, and reinforced the belief that escape was impossible. Relief came only when someone steady offered help. That moment arrived when he attended his first appointment with Riverside Money Advice (RMA). The process was complex and exhausting, involving tax returns he had never understood, mounting phone and work bills, and relentless demands from creditors, including HM Revenue & Customs. But unlike past encounters with authority, this one was marked by patience and clarity.
The adviser worked methodically, identifying every debt, creating a realistic budget, completing missing paperwork, and ultimately arranging a Debt Relief Order. Over twelve months, his remaining debts were placed into a moratorium, to be written off at its conclusion. Within just three months, £22,575 had effectively vanished. For the first time in years, Roger felt his feet on solid ground. Peace replaced panic, and clarity replaced confusion. He felt restored—not only financially, but emotionally and spiritually.
As part of his recovery, Roger committed himself to physical fitness, training at the gym to rebuild strength and discipline. He accepted an invitation to take part in the Wolf Run, a gruelling obstacle course that tested both physical endurance and mental resilience. Running alongside a supportive friend who paced him, waited when he struggled, and encouraged him when exhaustion set in, Roger learned the value of persistence. The experience mirrored his journey out of debt and addiction: slow, painful, but transformative.
Looking back, Roger sees clearly how alcohol once dominated his life, stripping him of agency and direction. He lost his family, his work, and his home, but he did not lose everything. Faith gave him a new foundation. Though temptation remains, he now understands how to respond differently. With mentors guiding him and a renewed sense of purpose, Roger has returned to education at Fircroft College, earning multiple certificates and working toward training as a Drug and Alcohol Support Worker.
He no longer defines himself by who he was, but by who he is becoming—stronger, more resilient, and shaped by redemption. Roger believes his pain has been transformed into purpose, and that his future, though still uncertain, is held securely by God. His story stands as a reminder that no descent is final, and no situation beyond hope—so long as one is willing to reach out for help and take the first step toward freedom.