Kiwi Flyer

Phil Twigge in the wheelchair section of the 2012 Christchurch Airport MarathonIt wasn’t until a week after Phil Twigge was born that his mother was able to hold him in her arms for the first time.

Phil was born with spina bifida, a congenital developmental disorder where the spine doesn’t close around the spinal cord but protrudes through the back.

He spent one week in Wellington Hospital, rushed there from Palmerston North for surgery, not expected to live. Since then, life has been a series of challenges.

Just because he didn’t walk like everyone else, Phil experienced a torrential amount of bullying during his school years. It wasn’t so bad during his primary and intermediate years; it was the bullying in high school that did the most damage. ‘From third form up until sixth form, I got bullied pretty much most of the time. It was mainly from one specific guy, but it was definitely challenging being different to everybody else at school.’

Phil recalls feeling an overwhelming sense of relief on his last day at high school that he wouldn’t have to go through that bullying ever again. But while he thought leaving the school environment would be the end of his troubles, it opened doors to heavier issues.

‘When I left school, I had all this anger inside of me towards the guy that had constantly beaten me up,’ says Phil. ‘So I began to drink alcohol and use cannabis quite a bit to forget about the trouble I had in my life—to numb out the pain and have a life where I basically didn’t feel anything. There wasn’t a lot of happiness in my life, and the only things I did feel were bitterness, anger and sadness.’

Living on the edge

Things didn’t get any better for Phil when his best friend, who also had spina bifida, died shortly before his 20th birthday. At the time, Phil was only 17. The loss of his friend had a dramatic impact on Phil, who started to perceive an early death as his own fate. The outcome was he decided to live ‘life without limits’, doing whatever he wanted.

But living life on the edge came at a heavy cost. Phil continued to suffer greatly from the torment of his past experiences. He was diagnosed with depression by 27, although he believes he’s had depression since the age of 18. He also carried a heavy fear that he might encounter his high school bully again. All of this led to suicide attempts, increased consumption of drugs and alcohol, and a general isolation from society.

‘From the age of 27 to 35, I really struggled with depression,’ explains Phil. ‘I couldn’t hold down a job, talk to anyone, and basically didn’t want to do anything. I ended up isolating myself and wouldn’t go out. It got to the point where I was afraid to go out because I thought that this guy that beat me up at school might see me and do it again, so I began to suffer from post-traumatic stress.’

During his time indoors, Phil spent a lot of time on the internet. Through a chat website, he made friends with someone in Canada who invited him to visit. Phil says that because of his depressed state of mind, he couldn’t see anything wrong with going—despite family telling him otherwise. He headed to Canada but it only took a couple of months before everything there started going downhill. Despite being thousands of kilometres away from the people that hurt him, Phil was still afraid to go out. His depression and addictions worsened until it got to the point where he had to come back home.

He says, ‘One of the worst things I’ve ever had to do was ring my parents to tell them I had to come back to New Zealand, because up until that point I had managed to do things for myself. But I had really hit rock bottom by then.’

Little did Phil know when he contacted his parents that they’d left Palmerston North for a new life in Whakatane. So, bar one friend, he knew no one in his hometown, where he eventually ended up again. Phil started boarding with that friend, but after weeks of practically doing nothing, his friend’s mother told him he had to leave. By then, Phil had completely lost all hope and drive.

Knocking at the Army’s door

‘Coming back to nothing [in New Zealand], I basically gave up on life,’ he recalls. ‘I didn’t want to eat and just stayed in bed all the time. After being told to leave my mate’s place, I thought to myself, “I’m going to die anyway, so I won’t do anything.” But I also didn’t know that my friend’s mother had contacted my father and told him I had to leave—that’s how I ended up at the [Salvation Army] men’s hostel.’

When Phil’s family lived in Palmerston North, their neighbours were (and still are) involved with The Salvation Army. Phil’s father got in contact with them, seeking help for his son. His old neighbours put him in contact with Philip Eichler, the hostel’s manager.

In 2006, Phil became a hostel resident, although he admits he wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting himself into. With Salvation Army accommodation literally the only option Phil had left, he began having regular counselling. Part of the reason for this was that he was now living in an environment where he couldn’t use drugs or alcohol, so he needed to get on top of his issues.

‘I didn’t know where I was heading in life,’ says Phil. ‘I was confused, and I remember just sitting in my room for the first two or three months wondering why I was there. But it was either continue on with the life I had and sleep on the streets, or make some serious changes.’

The more counselling Phil received from The Salvation Army, the more rehabilitated he became. Not only did the counselling help him quit using drugs and alcohol, it also opened up a path for him to find the biggest means to his colossal recovery: Jesus Christ.

‘I’ve always had a belief in God,’ he says. ‘I used to go to church when I was little but my parents stopped going for various reasons.

I was given the opportunity to either stay at home on a Sunday or go to church with our neighbours. I always chose the option of staying in bed.

‘When I came to the hostel, I began to think about God and what place he had in my life, and I remember thinking that maybe it was time I accepted Jesus into my life again. And then one day my counsellor asked me that same question.’ Phil prayed for God’s forgiveness and salvation, welcoming Jesus back into his life.

Having lived a lonely and depressed life for so long, Phil’s renewed commitment to Jesus made him happy, but it was what happened straight after that caught him off guard. ‘Until that point I had always felt lonely, even if I was in a room full of people,’ he says.

‘Then the funniest thing happened. After making that commit-ment, I thought someone was following me when I was walking back to the hostel from the bus stop. I kept looking behind me but there was no one there, so I ran back to the hostel, slammed my bedroom door and just sat there for a while. Shortly after, I realised that it was the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit had come to live in me! This was a real peace moment for me, as I can honestly say from that point forward things began to change for the better in my life.’

Fresh challenges

Having lived at the hostel for close to a year, Phil was approached by the manager who asked if he was keen to take on some casual work around the facility. Phil initially said no, but as time went on and he was asked a few more times, he started to think there was maybe ‘more to the job than meets the eye’. He had also made an agreement with God, that if God asked him to do something—no matter what it was—he’d do it.

Eventually Phil said yes and started doing the occasional part-time shift at the hostel. In time, a combination of hard work and prayer paid off. Part-time turned into full-time, with Phil eventually taking on a role as one of the hostel’s client support workers.

He now supports a wide range of men, including those just released from prison, men with addiction problems and men that simply have nowhere else to go. Phil says The Salvation Army offers residents a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs and support for whatever they need to achieve.

After five years in the role, Phil says the best part about it is helping men recover and stopping them from going through at least half the things he went through.

‘I know what rock bottom feels like and it’s not a very nice place,’ he says. ‘It’s a very dark place spiritually and I don’t want anyone to suffer that.’ Phil has seen many lives changed, and it brings him great satisfaction to see rehabilitated men walk out and on to bigger and better things.

Phil’s example has encouraged many people over the past seven

years—and he continues to inspire. Unfortunately, a fall in the shower caused further damage to his spinal cord and further impeded his ability to walk, so he now uses leg braces and a walking stick.

The gym where Phil was doing his rehabilitation after his fall was running a promotion and giving away free memberships for those who achieved a personal goal. Phil decided to compete in a half marathon in a wheelchair between Palmerston North and Feilding. He thoroughly enjoyed the experience and decided to go one better and do a full marathon, winning the 2012 Christchurch Airport Marathon Wheelchair Section.

But Phil’s achievements didn’t stop there. Just before the marathon, he was encouraged by a man who had been competing all over the world to raise money for charity. Phil decided to do something similar to raise funds to upgrade the hostel. He raised over $1000, with donations still coming in, which will be used to give the hostel a face-lift on the inside.

Phil, who is now happily married, gives a lot of credit for his rejuvenated life to The Salvation Army. This gratitude motivates him to continue giving back to the Army.

‘If it wasn’t for The Salvation Army, I wouldn’t be alive,’ he says. ‘They are my family, and I’ve always felt like I belonged at The Salvation Army. They’ve played a huge part in where I am today and I’m hugely indebted to them. I also know that if it wasn’t for [God], I wouldn’t be able to do half the things that I do’

By John Lazo-Ron (abridged from War Cry, 3 November, p5-7)