Less than a year before I moved to Poznan to study medicine at uni, I met Stephen and his wife, Chloe, at a New Year’s Eve party. I felt an instant connection, but we lost touch afterwards.

When I later left Cracow I had hardly any close friends in Poznan. It was a dark time: depression and anxiety gripped me, and I drifted into a web of toxic, shallow relationships. I saw no value in myself and lived as if I were worthless. As you can imagine, I wasn’t happy.

Out of the blue Stephen invited me to a film night and discussion at "NEO-Lazarus" led by Casper. I ignored the first invite, but they kept asking until, eventually, I showed up. Later they ran the "NEO-Festival"; I joined the guitar workshops and loved them. The atmosphere at "NEO-Lazarus" felt as though I’d belonged there all along.

I began to relax around people who knew how to give and how to listen. I watched kids from rough backgrounds rapping with passion in the hip-hop workshops. It moved me that someone had noticed their need, built something from scratch and poured themselves out for others. I wanted in.

One July afternoon I helped paint panels for Casper’s exhibition at the "Slot Art" festival. While we worked, Casper shared the gospel in the most natural way. It was probably the first time anyone had told me the truth about Jesus—straight from the Bible, straight from the heart. Chloe added that even if Stephen ever left her, Jesus never would. Those words just didn't compute. Back then, I’d completely written God off as some sort of mass social psychosis. 'What Jesus? What does that even mean?' Error.

But God was already on the move. I found myself drawn to these people and to the love that surrounded me. For reasons I couldn’t explain, they wanted me there. When someone sees your heart and potential while you see only pain, it’s extraordinary. At "NEO-Lazarus" they saw me; the Jesus in them saw me. Through them the Holy Spirit was fighting for my life.

On 19 July I spent about forty minutes travelling back with Stephen from the city centre to "Lazarus" district, where "NEO-Lazarus" is based. We started chatting about relationships and psychology and ended up talking about God. Near the famous "Poznan International Fair" I gave my life to Jesus. I dropped to my knees in tears; passers-by stopped to check I was alright. It couldn’t have been better!

My world flipped. The old died and everything became new. The "NEO-Lazarus" crew prayed for me and carried me through those first months. They never forced anything; they just loved me—like Jesus. Today they’re my new family, my real family.

Everything changed. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it, and it still is. Here I am with Him, living in the light, for good.

I thank God for all of this—for the way He fought for me through these people and through "NEO-Lazarus".

I took part in a series of year-long music production and performance workshops at the "Tenement of Art" run by Casper and his friend Mozart. At the same time, other workshops were taking place, one of which focused on dance and drama.

Towards the end, these two groups came together, giving birth to the "Kaw-Tseer" project. We put on a live gig in a dark club that usually played heavy music and had drawings of demons on the walls.

Not only did the crowd hear us perform music, but they also watched a drama depicting a person’s life in today’s world — tangled up in sin like a spider’s web — and heard the message that, without Jesus, it is impossible to break free.

People from all walks of life got involved in the "Slot Art Day" events and activities at the "Tenement of Art". As a result, dozens of people came to faith, and seeds were undoubtedly sown in the hearts of many more.

Over time, Casper and I became really close; I remember so many wonderful conversations, whether we were chatting about God or just everyday life. There was a real sense of normality to it all, yet God always remained at the centre.

The "Tenement of Art" became a second home to me, and the people I met there became like family. It had such an amazing, homely atmosphere. I could go there to pray or sing out loud—things I just couldn't do at home. My brother and I often went to group prayer sessions there, or spent time doing the discipleship programme he was leading me through.

At the "Tenement of Art", I picked up new skills and discovered passions I’d never even explored before. Thanks to some brilliant mentors, and the fact they believed I could wrap my head around concepts that initially seemed far too complicated, my interest turned into real expertise. I got so good at it that when we launched "NEO-Lazarus", Casper actually suggested I run the workshops there myself. And that’s exactly what happened.

Like "Tenement of Art", "NEO-Lazarus" exists to bring hope, giving children, young people and older people the chance to discover their God-given identity. We help them break free from a world where the abnormal is sold as normal and the truly normal is branded strange.

Alongside that, we nurture passions, share knowledge and build close relationships that form a natural bridge for the gospel. By living life with them, we show who Christ is and what God is really like, love and look out for one another, and ultimately bring glory to Jesus.

My name is Lena, I'm 21, and my journey with the people from "Neverland" kids' centre started when I was just a little girl.

Although Poznań is a fairly wealthy city in the EU, our house never had hot water or a proper bathroom. We lived in really tough conditions and always struggled for money. There was constant arguing, heavy drinking, lying, violence, hatred, and a complete lack of respect for one another. It had always been like that; it started with my grandparents, and the cycle just kept repeating with every generation. There was no love, no hugs, and no one looked out for each other. Money was prized above everything, yet it vanished as soon as it came in.

Because of my home life, I was a really difficult child. I desperately wanted love from others, yet I treated people badly and showed them no respect. I just assumed everyone was as awful as my family...

And then, I met people who actually showed me love, support, and care. They took the time to help me with my learning, and gave me the smiles and hugs I so desperately needed. "Neverland" didn't even exist back then; we used to meet at Mr Casper’s house. They gave me what my family never could. They loved me selflessly, even making sure I had proper clothes on my back and something to eat in the morning. They stood by me even when I tried to push them away. They taught me so much and showed me that I actually have worth—that I could be loved, even when I was going through a really tough time.

Today I can say with confidence that I was raised by true believers—people who aren't related to me by blood, but who are far closer to me than my own family. They were there for me back then, and they still are today. I can honestly say these people have always been a massive help to me, right up to this very moment.

I remember Mr Luigi, who worked on reception at the "NEO-Lazarus" building. Life had really taken its toll on him; he was deeply sad and lonely. He also had a serious leg injury, which meant he couldn't put much weight on it.

We spoke often. Sometimes, when I was the last person to leave after working a 14-hour day, I was truly exhausted. It would be well after 10 pm, and I knew I had to be back in by 8 am the next morning. Before heading home, I would drop my keys off at reception. If Mr Luigi was on shift, he would often start a conversation, and I simply did not have the heart to cut him short. I knew it was not just idle chit-chat; this was a grown man, battered by life, opening his heart to me with the complete trust of a child.

So we would often talk in that room for an hour or two about everything that mattered to him. By the time I got home, well after midnight, I would be exhausted, knowing I had only a few hours’ sleep ahead of me, but I truly felt that what we were doing really mattered.

We helped Mr Luigi and the other reception staff with various things. It was incredibly moving when, one day, he said, “People like you don’t normally exist. I don’t know where you came from. I reckon only God could have sent you to me.” And when we first spoke to him about Christ, he was very open to it, simply because he already trusted us so much.

At one point, Mr Luigi asked us to pray that he would quickly receive a date for surgery he had been waiting years for, and that it would be successful. So, right there in that reception room, we prayed together. Sure enough, he had the operation shortly afterwards, and it went perfectly. Later on, the people at "NEO-Lazarus" even funded his post-operative rehabilitation.

Mr Luigi then decided to do the "Christianity Explored" course at "NEO-Lazarus". I cannot quite remember whether it happened in his reception room, but most probably we prayed with him there, and he made the decision to give his life to God.

Even later, when his employers moved him to another site, he stayed in touch and told us how much of an impact we had had on his life.

Thank God for that!

I firmly believe that what is happening at "NEO-Lazarus" is clearly helping people draw closer to God.

To begin with, I sat in on at least two open interviews with artists and celebrities that eventually moved directly into discussions about being saved from genuine danger, knowing God and the Gospel. I also attended a screening of the film "Selma", followed by a discussion which focused very openly on God.

On top of that, I heard from one of the year-round rap-production workshop leaders, who mentioned that his students had started opening up to him about their personal problems during casual chats outside the lessons. To my mind, this is a true testament to the genuine, friendly relationships "NEO-Lazarus" helps to build. It creates natural opportunities to share personal experiences of God and the Gospel, while also offering real, practical help to those who need it.