Certified - The True Story of David Harris David Harris on Podiobooks.com

My friendship with Helen grew slowly. We often hung out together as mates. I was friends with quite a few of the amazing women from church, but as time moved on it was Helen who I became best mates with. I really enjoyed her company, but I was scared that I would get it wrong again. Things started to change when Helen moved from the house with four other girls into a unit by herself. I found myself visiting the girls’ house less often and dropping in on Helen’s place more. Something really attracted me to Helen, not in a romantic way immediately. She had a deep relationship with God and a well of inner strength. I respected her.

One night I had an unusual dream. I dreamed I was back in Ballarat, in the house full of drug users and I was dealing again. A homeless guy turned up at the door and I invited him in. He was totally derelict. We could see he was destitute and in pain. We offered him a shower and some clean clothes, and shared our food with him. He asked for drugs and I told him I could give him drugs, but it was only a band-aid for the pain he felt.

With day after day of long and lonely strict routine I believe what they say, ‘A change is as good as a holiday.’ Within a few months that change happened when I was moved to Barwon prison, a newly built complex near Geelong. This was completely different from Pentridge—clean, spacious and no rats, not ones with tails anyhow. I spent my days playing table tennis and working in the metal fabrication shop.

I had walked through a door that I did not even realise I’d been searching for. That door was Jesus and walking through that door I discovered something I had never known before. This something met me in my lost place and embraced me just as I was. It was a love that did not care what I had or hadn’t done. It was a love that knew me and accepted me. Over the next few days I felt completely enveloped in this new type of love—God’s love.

Our house was guarded by three mongrel dogs. Sly was a huge black Rottweiler pup, big paws and playful, yet fearsome because of his size. Sly was a harmless sook who slept on Simon’s bed. Then there was Darius, a muscular mix of bull terrier and Rhodesian ridgeback. Darius was rusty brown and huge, like a canine wombat. He was both untrainable and unkillable.

I woke up as usual on the day of my release, only to be quickly overcome by nerves. It was October 1987, I was twenty-four and it felt like I was just starting out. There was so much unknown about living a life of freedom once again. After three years of maximum-security prison I was to be released. I made my way through the necessary procedure on the way out of prison.