How simple... and simply beautiful
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
Bismillah Walhamdulillah Was Salaatu Was Salaam ‘ala Rasulillah; As-Salaam Alaikum Wa-Rahmatullahi Wa-Barakatuhu
”Who believe in the Unknown, and fulfil their devotional obligations, and spend in charity of what We have given them; Who believe in what has been revealed to you and what was revealed to those before you, and are certain of the Hereafter. They have found the guidance of their Lord and will be successful. As for those who deny, it is all the same if you warn them or not, they will not believe. Allah has sealed their hearts and ears, and veiled their eyes. For them is great deprivation” [2: 3-7 Al-Qur’an translation by Ahmed Ali].
Although there are far more interesting stories of people becoming Muslim during the times of the Prophet (SWA), I feel that it is critical to recount to other Muslimahs and non-Muslimahs a story that can be easy to relate to given our current times and circumstances. Let me first give a comprehensive history of who I am, where I came from and who I was before Allah showed me the right path.
I was born in 1975 to an upper middle class Christian family living in the farmlands of Eastern Washington. I lead a very happy carefree childhood full of swimming in the lake during the hot desert summers, ice-skating and snow-mobiling in the winters and many boat and horseback rides in between. My life was full of more leisure than worship, as I barely remember going to Church. Except for a few Easters spent looking for money in haystacks at the Golf and Country Club and ripping through piles of presents stacked around the Christmas tree, my understanding of God was limited to such experiences. It was not until many years later that I even realized what the religious reasoning was behind such holidays.
In 1982, my reality became abruptly severed due to the divorce of my parents. The world that I had known became a thing of the past, and I spent a lot more of my time crying and feeling angry than I did frolicking with friends as I had done before. It felt as if my parents had deceived me, and I started to become very unsure about life. New town, new schoolmates, new neighborhood, and new stepfather! Change is an inevitable way of this life, but it was still very foreign to my young mind.
During my first few years on the Island, I was fortunate enough to live in the neighborhood where the only Muslim family lived. Since Mariam was my age and her younger brother, Adam, was my sister’s age, we spent many afternoons after school playing in the woods and digging for sea life on the rocky beaches of the north end. I even remember Mariam showing me her Qur’an and explaining to me what it meant to be Muslim. Even at the young age of 10, I found it fascinating, as I have always been very intrigued by other cultures and religions. She also told me cool stories about her dad’s life as a Sonics basketball player. All in all, I enjoyed spending time with them.
Not too long after that we moved to another part of the island, my close friendship with Mariam and her family dwindled. I became friends with a different group of kids and our lives started to separate. Even though I was not spending time with her, I still considered her a friend and would often defend her when immature kids would make rude comments about her hijab and other Islamic customs. I almost prided myself on understanding her belief, although not at all extensively.
Living in such a small town as I did, made it easy for me to begin associating myself with people and activities that were less than wholesome. Entertainment being scarce, most kids turned to drinking, smoking, sex and experimental drug use. Although I was not as quick to follow the crowd and have always considered myself a leader, I soon followed suit. I was never too wrapped up in the group’s mischievous behaviour, but as my father always said, “Birds of a feather, flock together.” It became hard to disassociate myself from the group. I even remember walking out of school in 1990 when we declared war against Iraq during Desert Storm. I knew nothing of the politics of the war and demonstrated in the streets in protest against our involvement in it. I knew nothing of the heinous crimes committed against the Kuwaiti people. I was merely going along with the crowd. God was always in the back of my mind, but I lost myself in my own selfishness and bottled-up hurt from my parent’s break-up. My relationship with my mother worsened as my days in high school continued, until she finally kicked me out at age 17. My father whisked me away to Bellingham that summer before senior year to set me straight in school and life in general. Hemd’Allah (thank God) that he was there to support me and heal some of those emotional wounds.
That fall, I started at Whatcom Community College fulltime. One of my classes that quarter was Middle Eastern History. I wrote a lengthy research paper on Ancient Egyptian Civilization and learned the truth about many stereotypes and falsehoods relating to Islam and Muslims. The idea behind men as the head of the household and women being modest to avoid the strong sexual desires of men really made sense to me. I also learned from an American Muslim man that lectured the class that Muslims believed in Jesus and did not say that he was the “Son of God” as Christians do. The fact that Muslims believe that Allah is above the mortal qualities of having children really clicked with me.
From that point in late 1992 until early 1998, I had little if any other encounters with Islam, Muslims or the Middle East in general. During a break-up with a boyfriend of mine at that time, I met a Kuwaiti guy at the gym I had been going to. It was fairly innocent, as my personal trainer introduced him to me. I thought he was handsome and friendly, but he seemed too good to be true and I automatically labelled him as a player. When I found out he was Muslim, I became even more turned off. Even though I had more knowledge about Islam at that time than most Americans, I was still blinded by my prejudices.
After a little coercion, I finally agreed to eat falafels with him at a local Arabic grocery store granted it was a “friendly” meeting and not a romantic one. I thought he was “nice”, but he was not GQ enough for my liking. My shallowness inhibited me from seeing his truly caring, unselfish and respectful attitude. We slowly became friends over a few months period and he found his way into my heart. He was always there for me emotionally and spiritually while I coped with my financial difficulties and rocky relationship with my mother and sister. His number one interest was always making my life easier and not complicating it with frivolous temptations and desires.
He slowly introduced me to the concepts of Islam and stories of Prophet Muhammad (SWA). He even prayed in front of me until I felt comfortable to talk openly about my misconceptions of Islam, especially the role of women. Everything that he related to me, I saw in the actions of him, his brothers and their friends. I began to realize that all the time I spent worried about partying, drinking and hanging out with my supposed “guy friends” was all a waste. None of these things were going to get me any closer to feeling truly happy about myself and about life as a whole. “...As for the life of this world, it is nothing but a merchandise of vanity” [Al-Qur’an 3:185].
It might be very difficult for non-believers to accept that I chose Islam and was not forced to or persuaded to by “man from Kuwait”. My acceptance of Islam was not a prerequisite of our relationship’s potential future, as some have thought. I did not automatically adhere to anything or believe everything I heard or read. It was a slow process of learning and “man from Kuwait” was perfect about telling me the right thing at the right time. He never started out by telling me what was haram (forbidden) and the punishments for that on Judgement Day. On the contrary, he first explained to me why he did what he did. What was the spiritual significance of Hajj, praying at certain times, refraining from the consumption of pork, etc? Every tradition in Islam (submission to God) prescribed by Allah has significance; it is not mere cultural customs passed down from generation to generation.
Some of the hardest things for me to accept included Islamic attire for men and women, Polygamy, prohibition of alcohol, etc. Not to mention I wanted proof...logical proof and reasoning to understand why “man from Kuwait” felt obligated to pray, fast, abstain from drinking and sex, etc. At first I saw it as so many “don’ts” and so few “dos”. Some of these topics required a lot of in-depth discussion, so “man from Kuwait” turned me to Ahmed Deedat to pick up where he left off. The acceptance of Islam, the belief in Al-Qur’an and Allah as Creator of everything was a natural concept and Deedat reasoned this to death in my mind. I tried to logically refute these ideas internally, but I couldn’t. It was simply not possible!
My hardest internal struggle was revealing these ideas to my parents and family. What would they think? Would they disinherit me? How could I tell them? Well, the truth of the matter is that I am in the process of this right now. The stronger my faith becomes, the less worried I am about what non-believers think. The number one idea I have to rid my family of is the incorrect belief that women have a subservient role to men in Islam. From an American perspective, these ideas are easily confused with reality, especially since many Muslim countries have gone astray in inhibiting women an education or right to work.
I always relate the story of the Prophet’s first wife, Khadija. She was a rich woman who not only owned her own business, but also successfully raised her children. So many seem to skip over this fact, and Muslims alike. People also forget or misunderstand the acceptance of polygamy. This is not a preferred way of life according to Allah’s word, but an option. Al-Qur’an reiterates this, by stating that it is impossible to treat multiple wives equally, so unless you can, then just marry one woman. Before I understood Islam, I always assumed that multiple wives was the suggested way of life according to the teachings of Islam, and relying on media influence made me blind to the truth. What really hit it home for me was that the Prophet (SWA) was married to a much older woman for 25 years, and it wasn’t until after she died that he re-married. He was allowed more than four wives in order to teach people how to treat different wives, whether much older, much younger, Jewish or Christian. He showed us that marrying women of other heavenly religions was accepted and that marrying women of other ethnicities or ages was good in the eyes of God. Far too many people today, refuse to marry women of different colors and cultures. Prophet Muhammad (SWA) showed us that these prejudices should be avoided. Furthermore, he married a couple of these women because their husbands had died in war, and he wanted to provide means and a father figure for their children. It was not based on sexual desires. In fact, Islam prohibited the conduct of many men (Christian and Jewish) of that time who had hundreds of wives and concubines, thus the max Islam allows is four and that having relations with someone other than your wife is considered adultery. I have even read in history books (written by non-Muslims) that the reason the Catholic Church outlawed multiple wives, was because men did not want to be legally responsible financially for providing for more than one. This allowed more free conduct on the part of men to gallivant with women outside of the marriage and not be tied down buy so many legitimate children.
Differentiating between the true faith of Islam and the wrong doings of people, whose actions do not reflect Islam, can prove difficult, especially to non-believers. Many people throughout time whether Christian, Jewish or Muslim have tried to base their anti-religious actions on the supposed teachings of that faith. This factor in accepting Islam influenced me in taking more time to believe. Every time I heard or read about some questionable act that a Muslim had committed, I immediately ran to my Muslim friends for proof explaining or denying the correctness of that action. “man from Kuwait” always shows me Quranic proof for such actions or against them.
I still remember all the times people have said, “Haven’t you seen the movie Not Without My Daughter?” How ignorant for someone to base his or her beliefs of another culture or religion on an American made movie. This is precisely why so many non-Muslims have negative stereotypes about Islam. When I first introduced my parents to “man from Kuwait”, there was a lot of turmoil in the family. I remember all the questions: is “man from Kuwait” going to have a harem of wives, what if he steals your children, what if you move to Kuwait and they hold you captive, etc? It took so much explaining to even justify why I was interested in a Muslim man, let alone explaining to them why I have become Muslim. Insha’Allah (God willing) Islam will bring me closer to my family as I have seen it helping me mend my friendship with my sister. She has been Christian for years, and now that I believe in one God, Allah, we many times have religious and spiritual discussions about God. It seems we have more in common now, then ever before.
After about a year of knowing each other, I really started to believe all that I heard and read about this great deen (religion). Even though I had not uttered the words, “Esheduana la illaha ilallah”, I believed that there was no other deity except for Allah, and without a doubt that Prophet Muhammad (SWA) was the messenger of Allah (Esheduana Muhammadan rasool Allah). It was not until about six months later that I finished reading Volume one of “The Choice: Islam and Christianity” by Ahmed Deedat. I had never read anything more convincing that was directed toward an American point of view. I immediately asked “man from Kuwait” how I actually could become Muslim. Was there a ceremony or did I have to make a blood oath? I was surprised that all I had to do was utter those words and truly believe it in my heart that there is no other deity except Allah and that Prophet Muhammad was the messenger of Allah. How simple...and simply beautiful.
Sometimes, I have small insignificant doubts, but they quickly pass. I just remember that it is probably the Shetan (devil) trying to influence me, like when your mind wonders during prayer. I still believe, and I have never thought that I chose Islam because of my interest in “man from Kuwait”. I told my mother that even if he disappears tomorrow, I will remain Muslimah - Insha’Allah until I die.
My friends and co-workers have been extremely supportive and respect my choice not to drink, eat pork, etc. I have even taught Islam to some of my co-workers. Many of my friends usually ask my opinion on their life controversies and hardships. I always give them Islamic advice, and they appreciate that. My roommate is not Muslim, yet she respects my beliefs and does not drink around me or try to force me to go bar hopping with her and her friends. What my friends think never influences me to change my opinions or beliefs. I listen to other peoples’ perspectives, but I am Muslimah and Insha’Allah that will not change.
Becoming Muslim was the best choice that I ever made and I thank Allah everyday that he gave me the openness in my heart to accept it and love it. I have read and learned from various people so much about this deen and it seems that I just cannot learn enough. I continually search for more proof of Islam and take every opportunity to teach others about it.
I have faith in the Hereafter and realize that no matter what others say or think their blindness will not hinder nor help me on the Day of Judgement. Allah does not accept excuses like “I did not know any better” or “I do not believe in Islam because my parents were Christian”. If these excuses worked than the people of Mecca would have gone on worshipping idols like their forefathers had and not have embraced Islam with the Prophet (SWA). “Do the unbelievers think they can make My own creatures their protectors against Me?” [Al-Qur’an 18:102].
Insha’Allah one day, Allah will let the light of Islam into the hearts of my parents and sister. “It is true thou wilt not be able to guide every one, whom thou lovest; but Allah guides those whom He will and He knows best those who receive guidance” [Al-Qur’an 28:56]. Everyday, I think about the blazing fire that awaits those that do not believe and my eyes fill with tears of horror for those close to me who do not understand the signs that Allah has made clear for all of us. I never question that which He has made nor the reasons why He has lead me to Islam and not my family. I just pray that Allah will lead them as well. “Creation of the heavens and the earth, alternation of night and day, and sailing of ships across the ocean with what is useful to man, and the rain that Allah sends from the sky enlivening the earth that was dead, and the scattering of beasts of all kinds upon it, and the changing of the winds, and the clouds which remain obedient between earth and sky, are surely signs for the wise. And yet there are men who take others as compeers of Allah, and bestow on them love due to Allah; but the love of the faithful for Allah is more intense. If only the wicked could see now the agony that they will behold (on the Day of Resurrection), they will know that to Allah belongs the power entirely! And the punishment of Allah is severe” [Al-Qur’an 2:164-165].
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 37-37:
37. وَقَالَ مُوسَى رَبِّي أَعْلَمُ بِمَنْ جَاءَ بِالْهُدَى مِنْ عِنْدِهِ وَمَنْ تَكُونُ لَهُ عَاقِبَةُ الدَّارِ إِنَّهُ لا يُفْلِحُ الظَّالِمُونَ
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 37-37:
37. Moses said: "My Lord knows best who it is that comes with guidance from Him and whose end will be best in the Hereafter: certain it is that the wrong-doers will not prosper."
Thursday, April 7, 2011
How I became a Muslim?
How I became a Muslim?
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
I grew up in the United States, Philadelphia Pa. I was raised as a Christian in the Baptist Church. My mother made me go to church every Sunday and on that day the only music that was allowed to be played was Gospel. I never liked church very much, it always seemed to me, to be a place for a fashion show. You had to wear you very best outfit and sit and check out everybody elses as they came through the door. I would see people nudging each other as they seen the people come through the door and gossiping about them or looking at them with their noses in the air. I noticed some were very uncomfortable about what they had on,because they knew they would be discussed after the service. I never liked that atmosphere.
Then it came time for the service, now was the preacher's time to show out. He would start slow and easy with the preaching and it would build up as he went along. Soon he would grab the Bible and start preaching and jumping up and down, sweat running everywhere. The people would get happy with him and start shouting and carrying on. And it never failed, when the people became excited like that, that they would pass around the money container,and out of being so fired up they would give all they had without even thinking about it. I never could understand why, when the preacher got excited, so did they. It never hit me like that, and I use to wonder why.
So I use to go home and start reading the Bible. I was sure I would find my answer in there as to why I wasn't like the rest of the Holy people. I really thought I wasn't doing something right. But as read the Bible, I never noticed any of their people in there ever jumping up and down and getting happy. I remember reading when Jesus was betrayed by one of his disciples named Judas and he(Jesus)went behind a mountain to pray. I can remember thinking, who is God (ASTAGHFIRULLAH) praying to? I knew something was wrong then. So I asked about this to my mother and grandmother and they would tell me he is praying to the Father. Well that threw me into total confusion and I went on that way until I was a teenager and concluded that church just wasn't for me. So I never was a religious person.
I use to notice the Muslim sisters walking along or on the bus, they stood out to me, I wanted to know what they were all about, but I didn't know how to approach them. I had a friend and she told me to greet them with assalaamu alaikum. So I said the next time I see a Muslim sister I would say that. She told me the Muslims have a book called the Holy Quran and that they don't eat pork. Neither one of us understood why they covered like that, but thought it was kind of neat. It made them stand out, and they always carried themselves so well.
One day I was on the bus going downtown and a Muslim sister got on the bus, and I greeted her with assalaamualaikum and she greeted me back,so I asked her where could I get a copy of the Holy Quran and she told me. The very next day I went and got one. When I started to read this book, it gave me a good feeling, I could understand it and I couldn't put it down.
I decided to go into the military and I took the Quran with me and continued to read it and told my army buddies about what it said. This continued for three years and I re-enlisted for two more years and went to Texas. My roomate was a Buddhist and I use to see her do her thing at a little box and she would chant and ring bells in front of candles. I told her I was interested in Islam and about what I was reading. One day she went out and when she came back she handed me a sheet of paper and said: Maybe you would be interested in this. It was about Islam and where they met at on Fridays. I took it and threw it in my locker.
About a day or two later I decided to go to this place and see what Islam was all about. I went and listened to the khutbah and liked very much what I was hearing. He was talking about the people and their behavior,and how the women dressed, and sex before marriage. It left a good impression on me and the sisters were so nice to me. They didn't try to convert me, but they invited me back. So that next friday I went back again and again I love the khutbah, what he was saying was a reality, it was true. The sisters told me they would be having a picnic at the park that next week and would like for me to join them and I accepted the invitation.
The next week arrived and off to the park we went. We arrived in the afternoon and I watched while the brothers covered the ground with white sheets. I thought to myself, this is where we will sit and eat. While the sisters and I were sitting on a bench a brother got up took off his shoes and stood in the middle of the sheets, put his hands up to his ears and started singing (at lest that's what i thought) and I said to myself: What on earth is he doing? I asked the sister close to me what was he doing and she said this is a call to prayer. Then I watched them as they made the Sunnah prayer. While one was standing up another was bending over and yet another had his face to the ground. I sat and observed. When they all had finished another brother came and called again to prayer, but this time everybody got up and made lines like we did in the army. One man was in front, while all other made were behind him in rows, just like we did in formation. The women were in the back farther away. And they started to pray. I had never seen anything so amazing in my whole entire life, I was so overwhelmed when I saw that.
I knew right then and there I wanted to be a Muslim. When the day was over I told them I would come back the next week and I did, but this time I told the sister I wanted to be a Muslim and they told their Imam and I took the shahadah. That was the happiest day of my life. All the sisters hugged me and congradulated me, I felt like I had been lifted into a new world and I never felt any difference until this very day. Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil 'alamin.
May Allah (SWT) guide us all to accept His decree. May Allah (SWT) make us all strong in following, practicing and accepting this great deen in its entirety, and may Allah (SWT) give us the strength, faith and support to fight our desires. Ameen!!!
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
I grew up in the United States, Philadelphia Pa. I was raised as a Christian in the Baptist Church. My mother made me go to church every Sunday and on that day the only music that was allowed to be played was Gospel. I never liked church very much, it always seemed to me, to be a place for a fashion show. You had to wear you very best outfit and sit and check out everybody elses as they came through the door. I would see people nudging each other as they seen the people come through the door and gossiping about them or looking at them with their noses in the air. I noticed some were very uncomfortable about what they had on,because they knew they would be discussed after the service. I never liked that atmosphere.
Then it came time for the service, now was the preacher's time to show out. He would start slow and easy with the preaching and it would build up as he went along. Soon he would grab the Bible and start preaching and jumping up and down, sweat running everywhere. The people would get happy with him and start shouting and carrying on. And it never failed, when the people became excited like that, that they would pass around the money container,and out of being so fired up they would give all they had without even thinking about it. I never could understand why, when the preacher got excited, so did they. It never hit me like that, and I use to wonder why.
So I use to go home and start reading the Bible. I was sure I would find my answer in there as to why I wasn't like the rest of the Holy people. I really thought I wasn't doing something right. But as read the Bible, I never noticed any of their people in there ever jumping up and down and getting happy. I remember reading when Jesus was betrayed by one of his disciples named Judas and he(Jesus)went behind a mountain to pray. I can remember thinking, who is God (ASTAGHFIRULLAH) praying to? I knew something was wrong then. So I asked about this to my mother and grandmother and they would tell me he is praying to the Father. Well that threw me into total confusion and I went on that way until I was a teenager and concluded that church just wasn't for me. So I never was a religious person.
I use to notice the Muslim sisters walking along or on the bus, they stood out to me, I wanted to know what they were all about, but I didn't know how to approach them. I had a friend and she told me to greet them with assalaamu alaikum. So I said the next time I see a Muslim sister I would say that. She told me the Muslims have a book called the Holy Quran and that they don't eat pork. Neither one of us understood why they covered like that, but thought it was kind of neat. It made them stand out, and they always carried themselves so well.
One day I was on the bus going downtown and a Muslim sister got on the bus, and I greeted her with assalaamualaikum and she greeted me back,so I asked her where could I get a copy of the Holy Quran and she told me. The very next day I went and got one. When I started to read this book, it gave me a good feeling, I could understand it and I couldn't put it down.
I decided to go into the military and I took the Quran with me and continued to read it and told my army buddies about what it said. This continued for three years and I re-enlisted for two more years and went to Texas. My roomate was a Buddhist and I use to see her do her thing at a little box and she would chant and ring bells in front of candles. I told her I was interested in Islam and about what I was reading. One day she went out and when she came back she handed me a sheet of paper and said: Maybe you would be interested in this. It was about Islam and where they met at on Fridays. I took it and threw it in my locker.
About a day or two later I decided to go to this place and see what Islam was all about. I went and listened to the khutbah and liked very much what I was hearing. He was talking about the people and their behavior,and how the women dressed, and sex before marriage. It left a good impression on me and the sisters were so nice to me. They didn't try to convert me, but they invited me back. So that next friday I went back again and again I love the khutbah, what he was saying was a reality, it was true. The sisters told me they would be having a picnic at the park that next week and would like for me to join them and I accepted the invitation.
The next week arrived and off to the park we went. We arrived in the afternoon and I watched while the brothers covered the ground with white sheets. I thought to myself, this is where we will sit and eat. While the sisters and I were sitting on a bench a brother got up took off his shoes and stood in the middle of the sheets, put his hands up to his ears and started singing (at lest that's what i thought) and I said to myself: What on earth is he doing? I asked the sister close to me what was he doing and she said this is a call to prayer. Then I watched them as they made the Sunnah prayer. While one was standing up another was bending over and yet another had his face to the ground. I sat and observed. When they all had finished another brother came and called again to prayer, but this time everybody got up and made lines like we did in the army. One man was in front, while all other made were behind him in rows, just like we did in formation. The women were in the back farther away. And they started to pray. I had never seen anything so amazing in my whole entire life, I was so overwhelmed when I saw that.
I knew right then and there I wanted to be a Muslim. When the day was over I told them I would come back the next week and I did, but this time I told the sister I wanted to be a Muslim and they told their Imam and I took the shahadah. That was the happiest day of my life. All the sisters hugged me and congradulated me, I felt like I had been lifted into a new world and I never felt any difference until this very day. Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil 'alamin.
May Allah (SWT) guide us all to accept His decree. May Allah (SWT) make us all strong in following, practicing and accepting this great deen in its entirety, and may Allah (SWT) give us the strength, faith and support to fight our desires. Ameen!!!
Heather Olmstead
Heather Olmstead
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My Journey to Allah
I am a new Muslimah. I took shahada on August 15, 2002. I am so glad I did. Life is much better with Islam. I had been searching all my life for a way to Allah. I was raised Christian. I explored many different faiths looking for Truth and guidance. Now I have found it.
First of all, a bit of background about me. I was born and mostly raised in Wisconsin in the United States. When I was born, my parents belonged to the Quakers. So that was my first experience with religion. The Quakers are very open-minded, so I was exposed to many different people and faiths. I was raised with very few prejudices. My parents divorced when I was 9 years old. I think due to the divorce, my parents both began going through some sort of spiritual crisis. Every weekend my brother and I alternated which parent we were with. Due to their searching, we went to many different churches, all Protestant Christian.
My mother brought us to a group of Pentecostals, where they spoke in tongues (an angelic language believed to be sent through them by God) and healed people by praying. I remember having to stand on the chairs to see over all the people to catch the action.
My father brought us to a Congregational church (the exact opposite of the Pentecostals), a Dutch Reformed (where my new step-mother went), and a group of divorced Christians that met for worship.
Eventually my mother worked her way back to the church of her childhood. The Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod. For any of you that know anything about Lutherans, these guys are the strictest. They aren’t allowed to pray with anyone besides other Wisconsin Synod Lutherans, even other Christians, because they do not believe the same. I personally believe they are near cult status (though I would never say that in front of my grandmother!)
In that church I went through Catechism classes (where you are taught, once a week after school for three years, what the Church teaches) and was confirmed (graduation). But it all never added up for me. I was still searching.
In high school I made friends with other Christians who actually observed their faith (where I am from, everyone is Christian, they just don’t necessarily practice it). We met for Bible study and on weekends visited various churches. I studied every denomination I could looking for the Truth. Baptist, Pentecostal, Assembly of God, Unitarian, Methodist, Non-denominational, Snake handlers, World Wide Church of God, Shakers, Amish, Presbyterian, United Church of Christ. And the list goes on. I have either studied and met a member and/or attended worship in all of these (and more) denominations.
Then I found the Catholics. I was convinced I wanted to be a nun. I even went through the conversion classes. But something stopped me before I officially converted.
In college I was a Theology major with an emphasis in Comparative Religions. I made studying religions my life, not just my hobby. The more I studied, the more holes I found.
I went on and started to search outside of Christianity. I studied and/or practiced Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Neo-paganism, Witchcraft, Voodoo, Santeria, Ba’haism and Judaism. About the only thing I have stayed away from was Satanism!
How I found Islam is a miracle brought about by the horrible tragedy of Sept.11. Before then, I thought, as many still do, that Islam was a controlling, misogynistic, violent religion. In all my religious studies, I hadn’t spent any more time on it then needed for my theology classes in college.
Though it still seems that the media doesn’t portray us in the kindest light, news reports and articles did begin to open my mind to a new way of thinking about Islam.
In a conversation with my mother-in-law, we began to discuss Islam. She made the comment “All Muslims, by the very nature of their religion, are violent”. Let me say, and I say this as fact, not as insult, that she is a very closed-minded person and does not educate herself on religions outside her narrow view of Protestant Christianity. So when she made the comment, I didn’t believe what she said. But it did occur to me, that I was unable to agree or disagree based on any knowledge that I personally had. I felt the need to change that. In classes in college I had learned the Five Pillars, and that Muslims prayed toward Mecca because Muhammad was from there (textbooks don’t have to be correct do they?)
Soon after I had the chance to receive some free pamphlets about Islam from a web-site. I sent for them, thinking that if we were going to be at war with these people, I should know something about them.
The pamphlets came. I read them and was amazed. This religion was nothing like what I had previously thought! A volunteer from the web-site e-mailed me and offered me an English translation of the Qur’an. I thought “Why not?” I had read the Bible, some of the Hindu Vedas, much of the Talmud, and the Book of Mormon. So in the interest of education, I accepted the offer.
When the book came, I found that he had generously sent me two other books. An Illustrated Guide to Islam and Towards Understanding Islam. I read them first. Then I began the Meaning of the Qur’an. It was if scales had fallen off my eyes, and off of my heart. I felt in my heart that I had found how to please God.
I promised myself I would not take shahada until I had read the entire Qur’an. Even though I spent hours studying other aspects of Islam on the internet. There was nothing that I learned that turned me off the faith. Instead, there were so many ideas that I had believed already. It was as if Allah had been leading me to Islam all of my life.
I prayed. I searched my heart. I tried to think of some excuse why I couldn’t convert to Islam. I thought about how my family and friends would take it. I thought about how hard it would be to wear hijab around here (and I felt that wearing hijab was fard). No matter what excuse I came up with, I knew they didn’t matter. Allah was calling me.
On the evening of August 15, 2002 I repeated after my internet friend, “La ilaha illa Allah Muhammadur rasoolu Allah (There is no true god but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God)”. I was Muslim. I felt great! Now I had to break the news to my husband.
I actually hadn’t expected to convert so quickly. But when something is right, it happens.
I told my husband and he was supportive. We had some difficulty over the next couple weeks, but we worked it out. He was just worried about me. Worried about violence from people because of 9/11. Worried I was on an emotional high and would come down and feel I had made a mistake. He had watched me explore many other religions over the course of our marriage. He was afraid this was another of my “phases”. Of course, he didn’t say this all so bluntly. He was very kind and considerate.
I haven’t been a Muslim that long yet. Maybe this is another phase. But is that any excuse not to follow Allah? I had read an article on excuses of why women don’t wear hijab. One was because they were worried they would take it off at some later point and then would cause more harm then good. The response was that you cannot predict the future. Maybe you will take off your scarf. Maybe you wouldn’t. Is that any reason not to wear it now?
So I feel the same about being Muslim. Maybe someday I will fall away. I pray not. But is that any reason to not follow Allah today?
Sura 7 - Al-Araf [The Heights] Verse 203-203:
203. وَإِذَا لَمْ تَأْتِهِمْ بِآيَةٍ قَالُوا لَوْلا اجْتَبَيْتَهَا قُلْ إِنَّمَا أَتَّبِعُ مَا يُوحَى إِلَيَّ مِنْ رَبِّي هَذَا بَصَائِرُ مِنْ رَبِّكُمْ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةٌ لِقَوْمٍ يُؤْمِنُونَ
Sura 7 - Al-Araf [The Heights] Verse 203-203:
203. If thou bring them not a revelation, they say: "Why hast thou not got it together?" Say: "I but follow what is revealed to me from my Lord: this is (nothing but) lights from your Lord, and Guidance, and mercy, for any who have faith."
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My Journey to Allah
I am a new Muslimah. I took shahada on August 15, 2002. I am so glad I did. Life is much better with Islam. I had been searching all my life for a way to Allah. I was raised Christian. I explored many different faiths looking for Truth and guidance. Now I have found it.
First of all, a bit of background about me. I was born and mostly raised in Wisconsin in the United States. When I was born, my parents belonged to the Quakers. So that was my first experience with religion. The Quakers are very open-minded, so I was exposed to many different people and faiths. I was raised with very few prejudices. My parents divorced when I was 9 years old. I think due to the divorce, my parents both began going through some sort of spiritual crisis. Every weekend my brother and I alternated which parent we were with. Due to their searching, we went to many different churches, all Protestant Christian.
My mother brought us to a group of Pentecostals, where they spoke in tongues (an angelic language believed to be sent through them by God) and healed people by praying. I remember having to stand on the chairs to see over all the people to catch the action.
My father brought us to a Congregational church (the exact opposite of the Pentecostals), a Dutch Reformed (where my new step-mother went), and a group of divorced Christians that met for worship.
Eventually my mother worked her way back to the church of her childhood. The Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod. For any of you that know anything about Lutherans, these guys are the strictest. They aren’t allowed to pray with anyone besides other Wisconsin Synod Lutherans, even other Christians, because they do not believe the same. I personally believe they are near cult status (though I would never say that in front of my grandmother!)
In that church I went through Catechism classes (where you are taught, once a week after school for three years, what the Church teaches) and was confirmed (graduation). But it all never added up for me. I was still searching.
In high school I made friends with other Christians who actually observed their faith (where I am from, everyone is Christian, they just don’t necessarily practice it). We met for Bible study and on weekends visited various churches. I studied every denomination I could looking for the Truth. Baptist, Pentecostal, Assembly of God, Unitarian, Methodist, Non-denominational, Snake handlers, World Wide Church of God, Shakers, Amish, Presbyterian, United Church of Christ. And the list goes on. I have either studied and met a member and/or attended worship in all of these (and more) denominations.
Then I found the Catholics. I was convinced I wanted to be a nun. I even went through the conversion classes. But something stopped me before I officially converted.
In college I was a Theology major with an emphasis in Comparative Religions. I made studying religions my life, not just my hobby. The more I studied, the more holes I found.
I went on and started to search outside of Christianity. I studied and/or practiced Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Neo-paganism, Witchcraft, Voodoo, Santeria, Ba’haism and Judaism. About the only thing I have stayed away from was Satanism!
How I found Islam is a miracle brought about by the horrible tragedy of Sept.11. Before then, I thought, as many still do, that Islam was a controlling, misogynistic, violent religion. In all my religious studies, I hadn’t spent any more time on it then needed for my theology classes in college.
Though it still seems that the media doesn’t portray us in the kindest light, news reports and articles did begin to open my mind to a new way of thinking about Islam.
In a conversation with my mother-in-law, we began to discuss Islam. She made the comment “All Muslims, by the very nature of their religion, are violent”. Let me say, and I say this as fact, not as insult, that she is a very closed-minded person and does not educate herself on religions outside her narrow view of Protestant Christianity. So when she made the comment, I didn’t believe what she said. But it did occur to me, that I was unable to agree or disagree based on any knowledge that I personally had. I felt the need to change that. In classes in college I had learned the Five Pillars, and that Muslims prayed toward Mecca because Muhammad was from there (textbooks don’t have to be correct do they?)
Soon after I had the chance to receive some free pamphlets about Islam from a web-site. I sent for them, thinking that if we were going to be at war with these people, I should know something about them.
The pamphlets came. I read them and was amazed. This religion was nothing like what I had previously thought! A volunteer from the web-site e-mailed me and offered me an English translation of the Qur’an. I thought “Why not?” I had read the Bible, some of the Hindu Vedas, much of the Talmud, and the Book of Mormon. So in the interest of education, I accepted the offer.
When the book came, I found that he had generously sent me two other books. An Illustrated Guide to Islam and Towards Understanding Islam. I read them first. Then I began the Meaning of the Qur’an. It was if scales had fallen off my eyes, and off of my heart. I felt in my heart that I had found how to please God.
I promised myself I would not take shahada until I had read the entire Qur’an. Even though I spent hours studying other aspects of Islam on the internet. There was nothing that I learned that turned me off the faith. Instead, there were so many ideas that I had believed already. It was as if Allah had been leading me to Islam all of my life.
I prayed. I searched my heart. I tried to think of some excuse why I couldn’t convert to Islam. I thought about how my family and friends would take it. I thought about how hard it would be to wear hijab around here (and I felt that wearing hijab was fard). No matter what excuse I came up with, I knew they didn’t matter. Allah was calling me.
On the evening of August 15, 2002 I repeated after my internet friend, “La ilaha illa Allah Muhammadur rasoolu Allah (There is no true god but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God)”. I was Muslim. I felt great! Now I had to break the news to my husband.
I actually hadn’t expected to convert so quickly. But when something is right, it happens.
I told my husband and he was supportive. We had some difficulty over the next couple weeks, but we worked it out. He was just worried about me. Worried about violence from people because of 9/11. Worried I was on an emotional high and would come down and feel I had made a mistake. He had watched me explore many other religions over the course of our marriage. He was afraid this was another of my “phases”. Of course, he didn’t say this all so bluntly. He was very kind and considerate.
I haven’t been a Muslim that long yet. Maybe this is another phase. But is that any excuse not to follow Allah? I had read an article on excuses of why women don’t wear hijab. One was because they were worried they would take it off at some later point and then would cause more harm then good. The response was that you cannot predict the future. Maybe you will take off your scarf. Maybe you wouldn’t. Is that any reason not to wear it now?
So I feel the same about being Muslim. Maybe someday I will fall away. I pray not. But is that any reason to not follow Allah today?
Sura 7 - Al-Araf [The Heights] Verse 203-203:
203. وَإِذَا لَمْ تَأْتِهِمْ بِآيَةٍ قَالُوا لَوْلا اجْتَبَيْتَهَا قُلْ إِنَّمَا أَتَّبِعُ مَا يُوحَى إِلَيَّ مِنْ رَبِّي هَذَا بَصَائِرُ مِنْ رَبِّكُمْ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةٌ لِقَوْمٍ يُؤْمِنُونَ
Sura 7 - Al-Araf [The Heights] Verse 203-203:
203. If thou bring them not a revelation, they say: "Why hast thou not got it together?" Say: "I but follow what is revealed to me from my Lord: this is (nothing but) lights from your Lord, and Guidance, and mercy, for any who have faith."
God is One
God is One
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
As a Doctor of Medicine, and a descendant of a French Catholic family, the very choice of my profession has given me a solid scientific culture which had prepared me very little for a mystic life. Not that I did not believe in God, but that the dogmas and rites of Christianity in general and of Catholicism in particular never permitted me to feel His presence. Thus my unitary sentiment for God forbade my accepting the dogma of the Trinity, and consequently of the Divinity of Jesus Christ.
Without yet knowing Islam, I was already believing in the first part of the Kalima, La ilah illa 'Allah (There is no deity but Allah), and in these verses of the Qur'an:
Sura 112 - Al-Ikhlas [Sincerity] Verse 1-4:
1. قُلْ هُوَ اللَّهُ أَحَدٌ
2. اللَّهُ الصَّمَدُ
3. لَمْ يَلِدْ وَلَمْ يُولَدْ
4. وَلَمْ يَكُنْ لَهُ كُفُوًا أَحَدٌ
Sura 112 - Al-Ikhlas [Sincerity] Verse 1-4:
1. Say: He is Allah, the One and Only;
2. Allah, the Eternal, Absolute;
3. He begetteth not, nor is He begotten;
4. And there is none like unto Him.
So, it was first of all for metaphysical reasons that I adhered to Islam. Other reasons, too, prompted me to do that. For instance, my refusal to accept Catholic priests, who, more or less, claim to possess on behalf of God the power of forgiving the sins of men. Further, I could never admit the Catholic rite of Communion, by means of the host (or holy bread), representing the body of Jesus Christ, a rite which seems to me to belong to totemistic practices of primitive peoples, where the body of the ancestral totem, the taboo of the living ones, had to be consumed after his death, in order better to assimilate his personality. Another point which moved me away from Christianity was the absolute silence which it maintains regarding bodily cleanliness, particularly before prayers, which has always seemed to me to be an outrage against God. For if He has given us a soul, He has also given us a body, which we have no right to neglect. The same silence could be observed, and this time mixed with hostility with regard to the physiological life of the human being, whereas on this point Islam seemed to me to be the only religion in accord with human nature.
The essential and definite element of my conversion to Islam was the Qur'an. I began to study it, before my conversion, with the critical spirit of a Western intellectual, and I owe much to the magnificent work of Mr. Malek Bennabi, entitled Le Phenomene Coranique, which convinced me of its being divinely revealed. There are certain verses of this book, the Qur'an, revealed more than thirteen centuries ago, which teach exactly the same notions as the most modern scientific researchers do. This definitely convinced me, and converted me to the second part of the Kalima, 'Muhammad Rasul 'Allah' (Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah).
This was my reason for presenting myself on 20th February 1953 at the mosque in Paris, where I declared my faith in Islam and was registered there as a Muslim by the Mufti of the Paris Mosque, and was given the Islamic name of 'Ali Selman'.
I am very happy in my new faith, and proclaim once again:
"I bear witness that there is no deity but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is Allah's servant and Messenger."
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
As a Doctor of Medicine, and a descendant of a French Catholic family, the very choice of my profession has given me a solid scientific culture which had prepared me very little for a mystic life. Not that I did not believe in God, but that the dogmas and rites of Christianity in general and of Catholicism in particular never permitted me to feel His presence. Thus my unitary sentiment for God forbade my accepting the dogma of the Trinity, and consequently of the Divinity of Jesus Christ.
Without yet knowing Islam, I was already believing in the first part of the Kalima, La ilah illa 'Allah (There is no deity but Allah), and in these verses of the Qur'an:
Sura 112 - Al-Ikhlas [Sincerity] Verse 1-4:
1. قُلْ هُوَ اللَّهُ أَحَدٌ
2. اللَّهُ الصَّمَدُ
3. لَمْ يَلِدْ وَلَمْ يُولَدْ
4. وَلَمْ يَكُنْ لَهُ كُفُوًا أَحَدٌ
Sura 112 - Al-Ikhlas [Sincerity] Verse 1-4:
1. Say: He is Allah, the One and Only;
2. Allah, the Eternal, Absolute;
3. He begetteth not, nor is He begotten;
4. And there is none like unto Him.
So, it was first of all for metaphysical reasons that I adhered to Islam. Other reasons, too, prompted me to do that. For instance, my refusal to accept Catholic priests, who, more or less, claim to possess on behalf of God the power of forgiving the sins of men. Further, I could never admit the Catholic rite of Communion, by means of the host (or holy bread), representing the body of Jesus Christ, a rite which seems to me to belong to totemistic practices of primitive peoples, where the body of the ancestral totem, the taboo of the living ones, had to be consumed after his death, in order better to assimilate his personality. Another point which moved me away from Christianity was the absolute silence which it maintains regarding bodily cleanliness, particularly before prayers, which has always seemed to me to be an outrage against God. For if He has given us a soul, He has also given us a body, which we have no right to neglect. The same silence could be observed, and this time mixed with hostility with regard to the physiological life of the human being, whereas on this point Islam seemed to me to be the only religion in accord with human nature.
The essential and definite element of my conversion to Islam was the Qur'an. I began to study it, before my conversion, with the critical spirit of a Western intellectual, and I owe much to the magnificent work of Mr. Malek Bennabi, entitled Le Phenomene Coranique, which convinced me of its being divinely revealed. There are certain verses of this book, the Qur'an, revealed more than thirteen centuries ago, which teach exactly the same notions as the most modern scientific researchers do. This definitely convinced me, and converted me to the second part of the Kalima, 'Muhammad Rasul 'Allah' (Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah).
This was my reason for presenting myself on 20th February 1953 at the mosque in Paris, where I declared my faith in Islam and was registered there as a Muslim by the Mufti of the Paris Mosque, and was given the Islamic name of 'Ali Selman'.
I am very happy in my new faith, and proclaim once again:
"I bear witness that there is no deity but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is Allah's servant and Messenger."
the Street to Islam
From the Street to Islam
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
I did not find Islam within the light in which I was in good times, nor did I embrace it due to bad times. There was a reason many may understand and it is simple – there was a emptiness and through all the years of my life, I felt this emptiness. Though I was born within an Arab family, I grew to see the walls filled with gold frames that embrace the words of Allah the All Mighty but I did not know what they were. You have to understand that to be born in an Arab family and with Muslim by name – does not qualify as one to find Islam or even become a Muslim.
To my left and to my right, and wherever I went, I found masks of lies and did not find Islam in which one would think it be found. I didn’t find it in the examples of family, nor people in my community, not even with daees. Many of them I abhorred and would walk to the next road and most of the time, my anger would be on the sisters too because they would speak and do something else. And though I was not Muslim then, I loved truth. I loved it for all it stood for and didn’t tolerate hypocrisy on even the smallest things. I did not like pushy people, nor people who love advising instead of living it by example. I have and will always be that type of person because we live in a world of too many words and people need to see action.
I came from a background of violence, whether in family, relatives or whether in the streets. To think of it – it is a miracle I am alive today. Out of the friends I know today, many are either dead, shot in the head, or lost in prison, or gone mad, or living the life of crime, or died of speeding in cars to alcohol and drugs. I, who didn’t want to be saved, who ran as far as I could from God or any mention of Islam, found it in the most unlikely places of all.
I was the last in every race in school and the one who stood in that corner, waiting for parents to come to see my results or for parents evening. They never would come. Too busy with jobs or their own life and distractions. I was one of those kids, who would get beaten in home and then beaten at school. I would get so beaten that I began to enjoy the pain and soon, I would not feel it and would believe that I deserved what I got. As time grew, I became tough inside and unfortunately so for my parents who would most of the time, lash out due to the hardship of life or something I still haven’t figured out why. I am sharing this because I want you to know that the cut is deep for many Muslim youths today. The cut is deeper than you think.
You cannot talk to them of Fear of Allah because they have lived in fear and overcome it. You cannot talk of pain and loss, because many have lost all they had and even their parents. You cannot talk about sacrifices and dignity because those of dignity never sacrificed or gave them dignity. It can only start with trust and we would surely test you, to see if you loved us so or we were but government numbers in a file or your next promotion. That is why, youths would give some people hard time, when they came to help.
I had only a few years with my parents – living in their home because I was left in Yemen to rot. All due to the glory of, “finding a job and the boom of the steel industry in England.” So I lived, fought, survived in the streets of Yemen. Sometimes with my grandma and sometimes in caves, and something’s I was so tired, I would just drop on the street or trees. I came to UK as a teenager to meet parents who were strangers and always became strangers later on in life. I failed in the education system because I had to keep an eyes on my sisters and brothers. Making sure they are safe from parent pressure and anger, depression or the world outside and its bullies. That is why, they are all flying degree students or have their own jobs in high flying careers. Allah SWT had a plan but I was not sure of anything then, never mind about our Lord and His existence.
Even today, I wonder and see all the talks, that are aimed at solving the challenges of what the youths face – to think if they live in some cloud because the issues are deeper than one can imagine. You see, I lived my life and even now, where I would walk in street and my father would walk past me with no acknowledgement. I would even sit with my mother when I visit her and feel no love at all. Though I but give respect and only because truth has taught me this. My brothers and sisters are strangers to me but I still keep an eye on them and help them without them knowing its me.
So you see, in one way I am blessed as a Muslim but in another, I am damned too and not because of Islam or Allah SWT but because each day is torture for me. For I know, what Islam teaches of love for parents. Of having that feeling of love for them. I don’t have those feelings and it is rare for me to do so for anyone but I do give respect and a show of love, due to what I adhered and learnt from books on courage, honour, before I ever embraced Islam. And to not hurt anyone’s feelings. If disliked anyone, I do not mix with them. I can and still do detach as easily as a thought but in a way, this helped me years to come to detach from the world.
I lived in the streets most of my life. I failed in the education system that has really no answers on how to face the challenges I was facing in both worlds. I have seen things as a child, which no child should see. I have seen and been to places as a man, where no man should be, due to the street life. I have for a very long time, slept with uneasiness and with knowing that if I do not find what I am looking for and find it fast,– I would end up as many I knew have done. A bullet in my head, a gang war that was not worthy of a life or a mess up that ends me in prison. Or building someone else’s dreams.
I used all my frustrations to figure out how to read and write. I locked myself away through books, after books. I would go to the books written by people who are already successful. I had no time for fairy tales and people who teach but don’t do. I would sleep maybe 3 hours to four hours a day. I had an aim. It was revenge against life. I live from childhood to adulthood with that anger but in doing so, I became hungry for knowledge. I read and read, and read, and read and I feared no challenge. Much of that which I see people fear makes me even today kind of surprised or bewilderment. I grew with discipline and had the talent for business and not because I had great business skills. I just didn’t fear people, or their opinions and I could take rejections like duck to water. I knew, the better I was at taking rejections, the more successful I became. And successful I did.
I left home as a teenager and kept reading, reading, and buying software’s, walk for miles after miles every day to just use a computer and apply my skills. I became a designer, author, comic illustrator, and piled on the skills. I even learnt to read Arabic. And just when I was ready to go for the big job, I got hit big time. My parents were so distracted, that they got all my sisters and bros the British Citizenship except me. I couldn’t get a job anymore due to no identity. I had nothing. No birth certificate and couldn’t get it from my country. Our country is in shambles.
But that was fine because it only made me more determined but for years, I could not get the citizenship. One thing after another, the Home office gave reasons, papers to sign, evidences to get, paper to find which I could not find. So I left it to just go and build up skills and set up my own business.
Each business I set up failed. I failed but start another one. Again that failed. I failed in a total of 9 times. Would you believe it? 9 times and each time, the loss and risk was great but I started again. I always did.
I set up another one and again. I was just too hungry to get out of the hole and area I lived in and the people I mixed with or know. I grew more determined than ever. I knew there will be a time that my failure will help me to find success. That is all success is. A process of failure to success. I just had to fail enough times and learn from them to be stronger, wiser, and apply.
Then one day, I stood still and that empty feeling came again. This time, I was not going to ignore it. So I left everything to travel from one city to another to find my answers. I could not find them in churches. I did not find them in synagogues and nor mosques. I did this for years and ended up back in the streets but still, there was this question – where next? How come in all I do, I still feel empty? Why am I here on this earth? What is the reason? Where is this going to end? Is there something else after this life? Is there just one, just one human being that cannot betray themselves and be truthful? Is there just one human being with an example? Just one who is on time, who gives without reminding and who doesn’t remind people because they want to save them?
As I lived on bread, cups of tea, soup runs which was given in streets at nights with dry bread, I asked, “if there is someone who made all this, just answer my question. If you, whoever you are, exist, then just answer this simple question….what am I suppose to be doing here? What am I suppose to do and go to? What is all this about?
Then, after two years in street to then move from one hostel to another, a young man stopped me. He asked who I am and from there we began to talk. As we did, I saw my reflection and saw my hair had grown long, dreadlocks. My face thin, and my eyes with large bags. I looked old for a 20 year old man.
I had nothing to lose, so I went with this man and he and his family welcomed me. For first time, I saw what a family is really about. For first time, I saw love, compassion, brotherhood. But what hurt me was when I was asked to share my life – they were stunned or thought it was a fable story. It was fine. I understood that my kind of world was further away from there’s.
One week later, I woke up from sleeping in a Telephone booth. I got up and it was fajir. I turned to a large mosque in Birmingham. I walked to it with uneasiness because the way I was dressed. I walked in and no man stopped me. I walked to see it furnished with nice carpet. I went to the Central Heating and as I sat and just when I was about to lay on the warm carpet, I heard a man recite. And the words shook me. It shook me hard. I began to feel…fear. For first time, I felt..fear. I was stunned, and turned round to hear these words:
Say, “He is Allah who is the One
Allah the Eternal Refuge
He neither begets nor is He begotten
There is none like unto Him.”
I left the mosques and these words would roam my mind, again and again. They would not leave me. I wanted to know more. Who is this Allah? No man can write such words. I found some Muslim men on Saturday in city centre of Birmingham and asked if I could take some books. They said they were free and I can have them. I began to read and read, and read. The more I read, the more it made sense.
I embraced Islam and I took to the streets – going to where the drugs were, the hustlers were, the prostitutes were, and told them about Allah. I spoke to them in the language they knew. Myself and the brother who took me to his family once, went together. Now there is two. There were four. Then the four became ten brothers. The ten became twenty. The twenty became 200. I began to write newsletters called Word Out Publications and suddenly, on two months, we filled a hall with 200 brothers and sisters in Islam.
A new chapter began but the challenges never ended for me but I laughed at them this time. I saw them as lessons weaved in a great tapestry and it was my job to listen to the Feedback the tests were giving me. I could share more but I rather just share one thing briefly:
Years ago, I was given a DVD. I never watched it. I never took notice. Someone gave me it and I don’t even remember. I just got it and it had no cover on it. Just someone gave me it, saying I wanted answers to my questions. But I just didn’t watch it.
Years later, I am standing in a room with a man who spoke the same language, had big visions and was not scared of achieving them either. His conduct, his mannerism was what I searched for. His character surpassed many I met before him. I began to work with him and he never broke his promise. I am not an easy man to work with because my life is busy due to succeeding later on businesses and doing talks, to helping youths.
One night, I was home after Isha and I wanted to find one of my books. As I pulled out some folders, a DVD fell out. I don’t know why but I put that DVD on the laptop and it was the same man I just left. The same man I met in that room. The same man, the journey has took me. The same man, Allah (SWT guided me to) and the same man who I grew to respect.
I started to laugh. I laughed because of the plan Allah SWT did on me. I laughed with joy because of how life turns out. I couldn’t believe it. All these years, that DVD could have answered my question but I just didn’t try to watch it.
Oh, before I forget. The man the journey took me to, and the DVD I didn’t watch till that time was of someone you will know - Shaykh Khalid Yasin.
Through my life, I have been a singer and songwriter. Meeting the likes of formerly known Cat Stevens and at times, sitting in studios with record producers of major labels. I have been a performer, to writer, and editor of my own newspapers. I have through the challenges moved into many roles to realize the reason for this only in the last couple of years.
The Muslim world needs people who can adapt, who can change so easy and to any climate. Can talk in the language of the youths to CEOs and anyone else. The Muslim world needs people who do not just talk of challenges of what youth follow but needs those who been there and speak the language of the youths. I never found home till I embraced Islam. I never found my purpose, till I embraced Islam. I never found so much work, so much success in all the fields I am in – until I embraced Islam.
It was like, Allah (SWT) was preparing me to toughen up and be ready for what is to come. If ever hard time comes and you question it – then just take a note that one day you shall see the purpose in it. You may not know now or even in a couple of year’s time but the answer will reveal itself in time for you to say, “Ah, thank you Allah.”
I don’t know about you but the world today needs men and women who do not talk anymore but do more. Who do not advise so much but live and show by their example. And are radiating by their superb example and love for their brothers and sisters in Islam. Who do business together, who invest in each other and do not give advice on a spelling mistake or misprint alone but purchase and invest in their brother or sisters vision or business. For only then, shall your words will have weight. Only through actions.
I shall not you and nor shall you know me from words. You shall know through ACTION! That is all we have control over. Our actions and the rest we leave to our Lord, Allah the Most High.
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
I did not find Islam within the light in which I was in good times, nor did I embrace it due to bad times. There was a reason many may understand and it is simple – there was a emptiness and through all the years of my life, I felt this emptiness. Though I was born within an Arab family, I grew to see the walls filled with gold frames that embrace the words of Allah the All Mighty but I did not know what they were. You have to understand that to be born in an Arab family and with Muslim by name – does not qualify as one to find Islam or even become a Muslim.
To my left and to my right, and wherever I went, I found masks of lies and did not find Islam in which one would think it be found. I didn’t find it in the examples of family, nor people in my community, not even with daees. Many of them I abhorred and would walk to the next road and most of the time, my anger would be on the sisters too because they would speak and do something else. And though I was not Muslim then, I loved truth. I loved it for all it stood for and didn’t tolerate hypocrisy on even the smallest things. I did not like pushy people, nor people who love advising instead of living it by example. I have and will always be that type of person because we live in a world of too many words and people need to see action.
I came from a background of violence, whether in family, relatives or whether in the streets. To think of it – it is a miracle I am alive today. Out of the friends I know today, many are either dead, shot in the head, or lost in prison, or gone mad, or living the life of crime, or died of speeding in cars to alcohol and drugs. I, who didn’t want to be saved, who ran as far as I could from God or any mention of Islam, found it in the most unlikely places of all.
I was the last in every race in school and the one who stood in that corner, waiting for parents to come to see my results or for parents evening. They never would come. Too busy with jobs or their own life and distractions. I was one of those kids, who would get beaten in home and then beaten at school. I would get so beaten that I began to enjoy the pain and soon, I would not feel it and would believe that I deserved what I got. As time grew, I became tough inside and unfortunately so for my parents who would most of the time, lash out due to the hardship of life or something I still haven’t figured out why. I am sharing this because I want you to know that the cut is deep for many Muslim youths today. The cut is deeper than you think.
You cannot talk to them of Fear of Allah because they have lived in fear and overcome it. You cannot talk of pain and loss, because many have lost all they had and even their parents. You cannot talk about sacrifices and dignity because those of dignity never sacrificed or gave them dignity. It can only start with trust and we would surely test you, to see if you loved us so or we were but government numbers in a file or your next promotion. That is why, youths would give some people hard time, when they came to help.
I had only a few years with my parents – living in their home because I was left in Yemen to rot. All due to the glory of, “finding a job and the boom of the steel industry in England.” So I lived, fought, survived in the streets of Yemen. Sometimes with my grandma and sometimes in caves, and something’s I was so tired, I would just drop on the street or trees. I came to UK as a teenager to meet parents who were strangers and always became strangers later on in life. I failed in the education system because I had to keep an eyes on my sisters and brothers. Making sure they are safe from parent pressure and anger, depression or the world outside and its bullies. That is why, they are all flying degree students or have their own jobs in high flying careers. Allah SWT had a plan but I was not sure of anything then, never mind about our Lord and His existence.
Even today, I wonder and see all the talks, that are aimed at solving the challenges of what the youths face – to think if they live in some cloud because the issues are deeper than one can imagine. You see, I lived my life and even now, where I would walk in street and my father would walk past me with no acknowledgement. I would even sit with my mother when I visit her and feel no love at all. Though I but give respect and only because truth has taught me this. My brothers and sisters are strangers to me but I still keep an eye on them and help them without them knowing its me.
So you see, in one way I am blessed as a Muslim but in another, I am damned too and not because of Islam or Allah SWT but because each day is torture for me. For I know, what Islam teaches of love for parents. Of having that feeling of love for them. I don’t have those feelings and it is rare for me to do so for anyone but I do give respect and a show of love, due to what I adhered and learnt from books on courage, honour, before I ever embraced Islam. And to not hurt anyone’s feelings. If disliked anyone, I do not mix with them. I can and still do detach as easily as a thought but in a way, this helped me years to come to detach from the world.
I lived in the streets most of my life. I failed in the education system that has really no answers on how to face the challenges I was facing in both worlds. I have seen things as a child, which no child should see. I have seen and been to places as a man, where no man should be, due to the street life. I have for a very long time, slept with uneasiness and with knowing that if I do not find what I am looking for and find it fast,– I would end up as many I knew have done. A bullet in my head, a gang war that was not worthy of a life or a mess up that ends me in prison. Or building someone else’s dreams.
I used all my frustrations to figure out how to read and write. I locked myself away through books, after books. I would go to the books written by people who are already successful. I had no time for fairy tales and people who teach but don’t do. I would sleep maybe 3 hours to four hours a day. I had an aim. It was revenge against life. I live from childhood to adulthood with that anger but in doing so, I became hungry for knowledge. I read and read, and read, and read and I feared no challenge. Much of that which I see people fear makes me even today kind of surprised or bewilderment. I grew with discipline and had the talent for business and not because I had great business skills. I just didn’t fear people, or their opinions and I could take rejections like duck to water. I knew, the better I was at taking rejections, the more successful I became. And successful I did.
I left home as a teenager and kept reading, reading, and buying software’s, walk for miles after miles every day to just use a computer and apply my skills. I became a designer, author, comic illustrator, and piled on the skills. I even learnt to read Arabic. And just when I was ready to go for the big job, I got hit big time. My parents were so distracted, that they got all my sisters and bros the British Citizenship except me. I couldn’t get a job anymore due to no identity. I had nothing. No birth certificate and couldn’t get it from my country. Our country is in shambles.
But that was fine because it only made me more determined but for years, I could not get the citizenship. One thing after another, the Home office gave reasons, papers to sign, evidences to get, paper to find which I could not find. So I left it to just go and build up skills and set up my own business.
Each business I set up failed. I failed but start another one. Again that failed. I failed in a total of 9 times. Would you believe it? 9 times and each time, the loss and risk was great but I started again. I always did.
I set up another one and again. I was just too hungry to get out of the hole and area I lived in and the people I mixed with or know. I grew more determined than ever. I knew there will be a time that my failure will help me to find success. That is all success is. A process of failure to success. I just had to fail enough times and learn from them to be stronger, wiser, and apply.
Then one day, I stood still and that empty feeling came again. This time, I was not going to ignore it. So I left everything to travel from one city to another to find my answers. I could not find them in churches. I did not find them in synagogues and nor mosques. I did this for years and ended up back in the streets but still, there was this question – where next? How come in all I do, I still feel empty? Why am I here on this earth? What is the reason? Where is this going to end? Is there something else after this life? Is there just one, just one human being that cannot betray themselves and be truthful? Is there just one human being with an example? Just one who is on time, who gives without reminding and who doesn’t remind people because they want to save them?
As I lived on bread, cups of tea, soup runs which was given in streets at nights with dry bread, I asked, “if there is someone who made all this, just answer my question. If you, whoever you are, exist, then just answer this simple question….what am I suppose to be doing here? What am I suppose to do and go to? What is all this about?
Then, after two years in street to then move from one hostel to another, a young man stopped me. He asked who I am and from there we began to talk. As we did, I saw my reflection and saw my hair had grown long, dreadlocks. My face thin, and my eyes with large bags. I looked old for a 20 year old man.
I had nothing to lose, so I went with this man and he and his family welcomed me. For first time, I saw what a family is really about. For first time, I saw love, compassion, brotherhood. But what hurt me was when I was asked to share my life – they were stunned or thought it was a fable story. It was fine. I understood that my kind of world was further away from there’s.
One week later, I woke up from sleeping in a Telephone booth. I got up and it was fajir. I turned to a large mosque in Birmingham. I walked to it with uneasiness because the way I was dressed. I walked in and no man stopped me. I walked to see it furnished with nice carpet. I went to the Central Heating and as I sat and just when I was about to lay on the warm carpet, I heard a man recite. And the words shook me. It shook me hard. I began to feel…fear. For first time, I felt..fear. I was stunned, and turned round to hear these words:
Say, “He is Allah who is the One
Allah the Eternal Refuge
He neither begets nor is He begotten
There is none like unto Him.”
I left the mosques and these words would roam my mind, again and again. They would not leave me. I wanted to know more. Who is this Allah? No man can write such words. I found some Muslim men on Saturday in city centre of Birmingham and asked if I could take some books. They said they were free and I can have them. I began to read and read, and read. The more I read, the more it made sense.
I embraced Islam and I took to the streets – going to where the drugs were, the hustlers were, the prostitutes were, and told them about Allah. I spoke to them in the language they knew. Myself and the brother who took me to his family once, went together. Now there is two. There were four. Then the four became ten brothers. The ten became twenty. The twenty became 200. I began to write newsletters called Word Out Publications and suddenly, on two months, we filled a hall with 200 brothers and sisters in Islam.
A new chapter began but the challenges never ended for me but I laughed at them this time. I saw them as lessons weaved in a great tapestry and it was my job to listen to the Feedback the tests were giving me. I could share more but I rather just share one thing briefly:
Years ago, I was given a DVD. I never watched it. I never took notice. Someone gave me it and I don’t even remember. I just got it and it had no cover on it. Just someone gave me it, saying I wanted answers to my questions. But I just didn’t watch it.
Years later, I am standing in a room with a man who spoke the same language, had big visions and was not scared of achieving them either. His conduct, his mannerism was what I searched for. His character surpassed many I met before him. I began to work with him and he never broke his promise. I am not an easy man to work with because my life is busy due to succeeding later on businesses and doing talks, to helping youths.
One night, I was home after Isha and I wanted to find one of my books. As I pulled out some folders, a DVD fell out. I don’t know why but I put that DVD on the laptop and it was the same man I just left. The same man I met in that room. The same man, the journey has took me. The same man, Allah (SWT guided me to) and the same man who I grew to respect.
I started to laugh. I laughed because of the plan Allah SWT did on me. I laughed with joy because of how life turns out. I couldn’t believe it. All these years, that DVD could have answered my question but I just didn’t try to watch it.
Oh, before I forget. The man the journey took me to, and the DVD I didn’t watch till that time was of someone you will know - Shaykh Khalid Yasin.
Through my life, I have been a singer and songwriter. Meeting the likes of formerly known Cat Stevens and at times, sitting in studios with record producers of major labels. I have been a performer, to writer, and editor of my own newspapers. I have through the challenges moved into many roles to realize the reason for this only in the last couple of years.
The Muslim world needs people who can adapt, who can change so easy and to any climate. Can talk in the language of the youths to CEOs and anyone else. The Muslim world needs people who do not just talk of challenges of what youth follow but needs those who been there and speak the language of the youths. I never found home till I embraced Islam. I never found my purpose, till I embraced Islam. I never found so much work, so much success in all the fields I am in – until I embraced Islam.
It was like, Allah (SWT) was preparing me to toughen up and be ready for what is to come. If ever hard time comes and you question it – then just take a note that one day you shall see the purpose in it. You may not know now or even in a couple of year’s time but the answer will reveal itself in time for you to say, “Ah, thank you Allah.”
I don’t know about you but the world today needs men and women who do not talk anymore but do more. Who do not advise so much but live and show by their example. And are radiating by their superb example and love for their brothers and sisters in Islam. Who do business together, who invest in each other and do not give advice on a spelling mistake or misprint alone but purchase and invest in their brother or sisters vision or business. For only then, shall your words will have weight. Only through actions.
I shall not you and nor shall you know me from words. You shall know through ACTION! That is all we have control over. Our actions and the rest we leave to our Lord, Allah the Most High.
Ignorance to Islam
From Ignorance to Islam
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My upbringing did not really include anything about God. I was christened, although I am not sure why, I would guess that this happened as it was the ‘done thing’ in my family. In addition I have vague memories of going to Sunday school, and of course the religious education later at school, which could be re-named ‘Christian education’ as no other religions ever got a look in.
Without any firm religious values, I lived my life according to my own set of moral values. Basically I just used to drift from one point of view to the next, and do my best to ‘fit in’ with whichever group of people I was with. I did have a belief in God, although I have to admit that I did not do a lot about it.
Then I met a Muslim. This opened new channels of discussions, and re-kindled the flame of my belief in God. Many a conversation took place on all sorts of topics, the existence of God, Heaven and Hell, other religions, the Holy Prophet and his Family PBUT, even topics such as what was the point of dinosaurs, and aliens. Everything was a muddle in my mind, question after question I asked, and to each question there was an answer that satisfied it. I was confused though, if this religion was so correct, why hadn’t I heard about it already? What about all the kind people I had met that were not Muslims, surely their good deeds would count? Why do you have to become a Muslim if you live your life properly, i.e. do not steal, commit adultery etc. etc.?
As time passed I soon realised that I was just searching for excuses. I knew that Islam was correct, but I needed to dig deep to find the courage to change. No longer could I hide behind a wall of questions and ‘what ifs’, it was time to stand up and be part of something that I believed in.
I was very nervous, every few minutes my stomach churned, rushes of adrenal waves through my body. It was the night that I would declare myself a Muslim and change the rest of my life. I was sure about my decision to revert, but scared at the prospect at the same time, conflicting emotions and feelings taking it in turns to pop into my head, but all along I knew that Truth would win.
The time had come, we gathered in a group. I repeated everything that the Imam said to me, I hung onto every syllable and repeated as best I could, I was afraid that if I didn’t pronounce the Arabic words properly then my declaration would not count, and it had to count. I went into a kind of dream world, feeling as if this wasn’t really me, I was watching someone else. The emotions started to rise, I looked around and realised that I was not alone with my tears. My declaration was touching the hearts of those around me. The Imam then said a number of prayers for me and also for my family, I felt somehow indebted to him, I felt the need to repay him in some way for what he had enabled me to become.
Tears continued to roll as this pious Imam asked me to pray for him that night. How could one of my prayers be worth anything when compared to his? We shared a cup of water, I was allowed to drink first, followed by all my good friends, and I was now part of what they stood for. I had been accepted.
From that point onwards I was a Muslim, not only had this been witnessed by those around me, but also by all the Prophets PBUT, who I was told grace every declaration with their presence. I felt so honoured that I could hardly believe it.
The final part of the transformation was to wash. I needed to purify myself and all my sins would now be forgiven, as if they had been washed down the plughole with the soapy water. It was as if I had just been born; from now on it would be up to me.
The world now appeared differently to me. I noticed aspects of people that I had missed before, I was much more aware of good and evil around me. I could look back at my past and it really felt as if that wasn’t me at all, I had a feeling that I had been given a whole new life, and I had been detached from my previous actions. This carried with it a responsibility, a desire not to blemish my new clean record. I had so much to learn, so much to read and take in. I had to be different towards people at work and even my own family, I had to get rid of clothes, books and pictures, now that I had been purified I had to make an attempt to purify my surroundings.
With the help I have had from Allah SWT, I have now found the true path, and take the Holy Prophet and his Family PBUT as my examples to follow, I must try and remember them with my every thought. My only wish now is that they may remember me on the Day of Judgement.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 38-38:
38. قُلْنَا اهْبِطُوا مِنْهَا جَمِيعًا فَإِمَّا يَأْتِيَنَّكُمْ مِنِّي هُدًى فَمَنْ تَبِعَ هُدَايَ فَلا خَوْفٌ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلا هُمْ يَحْزَنُونَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 38-38:
38. We said: "Get ye down all from here; and if, as is sure, there comes to you Guidance from me, whosoever follows My guidance, on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve.
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My upbringing did not really include anything about God. I was christened, although I am not sure why, I would guess that this happened as it was the ‘done thing’ in my family. In addition I have vague memories of going to Sunday school, and of course the religious education later at school, which could be re-named ‘Christian education’ as no other religions ever got a look in.
Without any firm religious values, I lived my life according to my own set of moral values. Basically I just used to drift from one point of view to the next, and do my best to ‘fit in’ with whichever group of people I was with. I did have a belief in God, although I have to admit that I did not do a lot about it.
Then I met a Muslim. This opened new channels of discussions, and re-kindled the flame of my belief in God. Many a conversation took place on all sorts of topics, the existence of God, Heaven and Hell, other religions, the Holy Prophet and his Family PBUT, even topics such as what was the point of dinosaurs, and aliens. Everything was a muddle in my mind, question after question I asked, and to each question there was an answer that satisfied it. I was confused though, if this religion was so correct, why hadn’t I heard about it already? What about all the kind people I had met that were not Muslims, surely their good deeds would count? Why do you have to become a Muslim if you live your life properly, i.e. do not steal, commit adultery etc. etc.?
As time passed I soon realised that I was just searching for excuses. I knew that Islam was correct, but I needed to dig deep to find the courage to change. No longer could I hide behind a wall of questions and ‘what ifs’, it was time to stand up and be part of something that I believed in.
I was very nervous, every few minutes my stomach churned, rushes of adrenal waves through my body. It was the night that I would declare myself a Muslim and change the rest of my life. I was sure about my decision to revert, but scared at the prospect at the same time, conflicting emotions and feelings taking it in turns to pop into my head, but all along I knew that Truth would win.
The time had come, we gathered in a group. I repeated everything that the Imam said to me, I hung onto every syllable and repeated as best I could, I was afraid that if I didn’t pronounce the Arabic words properly then my declaration would not count, and it had to count. I went into a kind of dream world, feeling as if this wasn’t really me, I was watching someone else. The emotions started to rise, I looked around and realised that I was not alone with my tears. My declaration was touching the hearts of those around me. The Imam then said a number of prayers for me and also for my family, I felt somehow indebted to him, I felt the need to repay him in some way for what he had enabled me to become.
Tears continued to roll as this pious Imam asked me to pray for him that night. How could one of my prayers be worth anything when compared to his? We shared a cup of water, I was allowed to drink first, followed by all my good friends, and I was now part of what they stood for. I had been accepted.
From that point onwards I was a Muslim, not only had this been witnessed by those around me, but also by all the Prophets PBUT, who I was told grace every declaration with their presence. I felt so honoured that I could hardly believe it.
The final part of the transformation was to wash. I needed to purify myself and all my sins would now be forgiven, as if they had been washed down the plughole with the soapy water. It was as if I had just been born; from now on it would be up to me.
The world now appeared differently to me. I noticed aspects of people that I had missed before, I was much more aware of good and evil around me. I could look back at my past and it really felt as if that wasn’t me at all, I had a feeling that I had been given a whole new life, and I had been detached from my previous actions. This carried with it a responsibility, a desire not to blemish my new clean record. I had so much to learn, so much to read and take in. I had to be different towards people at work and even my own family, I had to get rid of clothes, books and pictures, now that I had been purified I had to make an attempt to purify my surroundings.
With the help I have had from Allah SWT, I have now found the true path, and take the Holy Prophet and his Family PBUT as my examples to follow, I must try and remember them with my every thought. My only wish now is that they may remember me on the Day of Judgement.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 38-38:
38. قُلْنَا اهْبِطُوا مِنْهَا جَمِيعًا فَإِمَّا يَأْتِيَنَّكُمْ مِنِّي هُدًى فَمَنْ تَبِعَ هُدَايَ فَلا خَوْفٌ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلا هُمْ يَحْزَنُونَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 38-38:
38. We said: "Get ye down all from here; and if, as is sure, there comes to you Guidance from me, whosoever follows My guidance, on them shall be no fear, nor shall they grieve.
Fa’izah Jauharah
Fa’izah Jauharah
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My journey to Islam, or as I call it my adulthood 17 year journey through the wilderness of darkness - really began in childhood.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a great thirst for knowledge, and knowing about other religions was no exception. I grew up the only daughter of divorced parents - a Christian mother and, as I later learned, a Muslim father. As I got a little older I began to feel some dissatisfaction with our denomination of choice, but as a dutiful child I did as my mother told me.
The teachings of that denomination and finally Christianity itself just didn’t seem logical; and the more I read the more convinced I became that something wasn’t right. I tried asking questions of my family and of the pastors, but instead of getting answers I was dismissed as just a mere child. Somehow, the phrase “And the little child shall lead them” or “Suffer the little children to come unto me” just didn’t apply to me. Yet I just had to know. I mean I was smart, so how anyone could say that Jesus died on a Friday and rose on the third day and then tell me that the third day was a Sunday, mathematically was impossible. Or even something as simple as God created the heavens and the earth and all that was upon it is six days and rested on the seventh, yet we went to church on Sunday - the day the calendar says is the first day. In my mind, these were simple questions and all I wanted were simple answers. I admit some of my questions were a bit more complicated. For example, how come some denominations allowed women to be spiritual leaders, but not the Catholic Church?
As I grew into a teenager, my questions became much deeper. I couldn’t understand, for example, how the preacher could say that we should not be concerned with material things but rely upon God to provide; yet he was always dressed in the best clothing, drove a fancy car and lived in a great house, often at church expense, while many in the congregation didn’t have much. Then let’s not even talk about tithing - I’m supposed to give 10% of my gross income, something I never actually see (okay so I didn’t have a job at the time, but still it was the principle) to God, but I was taught that God had no need of money.
Although my father wasn’t around much as I was growing up, in retrospect I realize that his influence was ever-present. I was raised in a way that was very Islamically based. I had to dress in a lady-like fashion, I couldn’t “hang out” with boys or in the streets with my friends and I needed to account for my whereabouts at all times. I would get into lots of trouble if a boy who lived near me walked with me home from school. This was problematic when I was the manager of the boys’ track team in high school because several of the boys lived near my house and the coach insisted that they make sure I arrived home safely, otherwise they would be in trouble with him. We came up with a creative solution, but I didn’t like the idea of being sneaky and neither did they. After all, we weren’t doing anything wrong, just walking home after practice; but we did what we could to make sure that my family and our coach were happy.
Also during this time, my mother advised me or should I say ordered me, not to get involved with a Muslim man - ever. Her reason was that Muslim men oppress women. Women weren’t allowed to work, were forced to live in poverty, had to completely cover up themselves, couldn’t do anything without her husband’s permission and the biggy - might have to share her husband with several wives.
She often recounted the numerous times when before their divorce, how my father would give all his money to the mosque even if it meant I went without shoes. What she didn’t tell me was that he was not following pure Islam at the time, but was following the teachings of Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X of the Nation of Islam, which was very popular especially during the 1960’s.
As a dutiful child I stayed away from obtaining any knowledge about Islam, because I trusted my mommy and knew she wouldn’t tell me anything false.
Finally, the time came for me to go away to college. It was during this time that my adulthood journey through the wilderness of darkness began. I tried to be like my peers and wear short, fashionable skirts and go to parties and the like. I wasn’t accepted with this crowd. I was told I was too serious - I was too focused on getting an education. Yet despite this, I got in “trouble” and mommy made the decision to get me out of it. That made me “lose it” as is often said. I started to fight and disobey my mother. I even met a Muslim man on campus. He was nothing like my mother said. He treated me like a queen and never made me feel unintelligent or childlike despite the difference in our ages. I felt that I could trust him and he wanted to marry me and take care of me. Unfortunately we got into a fight; one caused because I simply lacked knowledge of Islam and therefore didn’t understand certain terminology. I was too ashamed of how I reacted to apologize to him, so instead I found myself agreeing with my mother’s assessment of Muslim men and so I left college, and began my journey.
I thought my life would be better, but the only blessings I received were my children - and even with them I’ve had to struggle, mostly because I was a single mother. The father of my daughters lived with me for many years but because he was so busy “building his empire” as he called it, I was still a single mother doing everything for my children and working and going back to college. Finally, I found out what he was doing - he was involved in drugs and was sleeping with other women, so we parted company.
I fell apart, but then, looking into my children’s faces, I knew I had to pull myself together - if only for them. Even in the face of immediate homelessness, I pressed on. I turned to the church for comfort, guidance and assistance, as it was the only place I knew. I was blessed to be able to buy a home and give a future to my daughters. All was going along fine, but then I felt that I needed someone to ease my burden. So I met someone and got married. We had a son and things should have been wonderful, but they weren’t. The father of my daughters took me to court and lied not only on me, but also on our oldest daughter and stole my youngest with the courts permission in 1999. I’m still trying to get her home - she is in danger with him and his new wife - the woman he was sleeping around with. My marriage fell apart, because my husband insisted that he heard the voice of god and was told that I was disobedient so he didn’t have to take care of us, even to the point of denying us groceries. I know now I was in an abusive marriage, yet all of my intelligence didn’t show me that at the time. Allah, tried to show me, but I ignored Him, but Allah did not leave me even then. I was so blessed but didn’t even know it.
All throughout this time, I was still struggling to find a church where I fit in. I couldn’t. The unanswered questions and the treatment of women in several denominations was just too real to be dismissed; so I stopped going but continued as best I could to keep my faith strong. So to hear my husband say that God told him that it was okay to mistreat me and the children just made me angry and more confused, because it felt like I was being punished for doubting what the church leaders told me. He finally left and I thought God had left me too.
Then one day in June 2001, I met a wonderful Muslim man. I thought he was decreed to be my new husband. He was not - but rather he was the catalyst that led me to finally opening my heart to the life I should have been leading all along - Islam. So I read everything I could find, trying to understand just what the status of women was and what was a man’s responsibility to a woman. Not only was I surprised to find that my mother was incorrect but I was also pleased to find answers to the questions I had asked for so long. My life had new meaning and purpose. I immediately and without hesitation made shahada and felt a great weight lifted from me. My journey through the wilderness of darkness - the darkness of misinformation, wrong guidance and ignorance was over.
Knowing how my mother felt about Muslim men, I was afraid to tell her; then I realized that perhaps her feelings were deeply personal and as a loving mother she wanted to shield me from similar hurts through the benefit of her experience. I loved my mother even more at that moment of realization - but I was still afraid to tell her. Finally, after much prayer I picked up the phone and in a round about way, told her how my life had changed. I explained that for so long I had felt uncertain about Christianity and what was said, taught and written; the half-truths and untruths and the changes that had been made over the years to suit man’s needs. I further explained to her that I had found what I was seeking - peace and unaltered truth -- in Islam. I expected her to start a lecture on why I shouldn’t get involved in an Islamic lifestyle and certainly not Muslim men; instead, she quietly and calmly confirmed what I had identified as the real issue - my father’s treatment of her in his days of wrong guidance. Mothers never cease to amaze; just when you think you have them figured out, they go and do something like this. I lost my dear Mother recently, so this is now one of her last and precious gifts to me -- the gift of understanding. I had some precious last moments with her and although she was very tired, I believe that she repeated shahada while I held her hand and recited it. I love my Mother and miss her already.
During our talk, I reminded my mother of how tired and discouraged I had become with working and how I would be perfectly content to stay at home, even though she had always taught me to be independent and have my own money. Once again, my mother surprised me. She said that she knew that’s how I felt and that she respects me for it and knows that I would indeed be happy as long as I could fill my days with what is important to me. The more I read, the more I understand that the role of single mother is not what Allah describes in the Quran. I long for the life that I know I can have by pleasing Allah and doing as he says in the “perfect guidebook for life”. I know that when Allah decrees it, it shall be.
I have much yet to do to break out of ways that have become commonplace for me because of circumstances, so while my journey through the wilderness of darkness is over, my journey along the right and straight path and finally to Jennah continues. This is a journey that I can make and know that I will not be alone - although we all make the journey by ourselves to please Allah.
All I can say is All praise to Allah. I was never alone even as I wandered through that wilderness of darkness.
Sura 16 - An-Nahl [The Bee] Verse 64-64:
64. وَمَا أَنْزَلْنَا عَلَيْكَ الْكِتَابَ إِلا لِتُبَيِّنَ لَهُمُ الَّذِي اخْتَلَفُوا فِيهِ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةً لِقَوْمٍ يُؤْمِنُونَ
Sura 16 - An-Nahl [The Bee] Verse 64-64:
64. And We sent down the Book to thee for the express purpose, that thou shouldst make clear to them those things in which they differ, and that it should be a guide and a mercy to those who believe.
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
My journey to Islam, or as I call it my adulthood 17 year journey through the wilderness of darkness - really began in childhood.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a great thirst for knowledge, and knowing about other religions was no exception. I grew up the only daughter of divorced parents - a Christian mother and, as I later learned, a Muslim father. As I got a little older I began to feel some dissatisfaction with our denomination of choice, but as a dutiful child I did as my mother told me.
The teachings of that denomination and finally Christianity itself just didn’t seem logical; and the more I read the more convinced I became that something wasn’t right. I tried asking questions of my family and of the pastors, but instead of getting answers I was dismissed as just a mere child. Somehow, the phrase “And the little child shall lead them” or “Suffer the little children to come unto me” just didn’t apply to me. Yet I just had to know. I mean I was smart, so how anyone could say that Jesus died on a Friday and rose on the third day and then tell me that the third day was a Sunday, mathematically was impossible. Or even something as simple as God created the heavens and the earth and all that was upon it is six days and rested on the seventh, yet we went to church on Sunday - the day the calendar says is the first day. In my mind, these were simple questions and all I wanted were simple answers. I admit some of my questions were a bit more complicated. For example, how come some denominations allowed women to be spiritual leaders, but not the Catholic Church?
As I grew into a teenager, my questions became much deeper. I couldn’t understand, for example, how the preacher could say that we should not be concerned with material things but rely upon God to provide; yet he was always dressed in the best clothing, drove a fancy car and lived in a great house, often at church expense, while many in the congregation didn’t have much. Then let’s not even talk about tithing - I’m supposed to give 10% of my gross income, something I never actually see (okay so I didn’t have a job at the time, but still it was the principle) to God, but I was taught that God had no need of money.
Although my father wasn’t around much as I was growing up, in retrospect I realize that his influence was ever-present. I was raised in a way that was very Islamically based. I had to dress in a lady-like fashion, I couldn’t “hang out” with boys or in the streets with my friends and I needed to account for my whereabouts at all times. I would get into lots of trouble if a boy who lived near me walked with me home from school. This was problematic when I was the manager of the boys’ track team in high school because several of the boys lived near my house and the coach insisted that they make sure I arrived home safely, otherwise they would be in trouble with him. We came up with a creative solution, but I didn’t like the idea of being sneaky and neither did they. After all, we weren’t doing anything wrong, just walking home after practice; but we did what we could to make sure that my family and our coach were happy.
Also during this time, my mother advised me or should I say ordered me, not to get involved with a Muslim man - ever. Her reason was that Muslim men oppress women. Women weren’t allowed to work, were forced to live in poverty, had to completely cover up themselves, couldn’t do anything without her husband’s permission and the biggy - might have to share her husband with several wives.
She often recounted the numerous times when before their divorce, how my father would give all his money to the mosque even if it meant I went without shoes. What she didn’t tell me was that he was not following pure Islam at the time, but was following the teachings of Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X of the Nation of Islam, which was very popular especially during the 1960’s.
As a dutiful child I stayed away from obtaining any knowledge about Islam, because I trusted my mommy and knew she wouldn’t tell me anything false.
Finally, the time came for me to go away to college. It was during this time that my adulthood journey through the wilderness of darkness began. I tried to be like my peers and wear short, fashionable skirts and go to parties and the like. I wasn’t accepted with this crowd. I was told I was too serious - I was too focused on getting an education. Yet despite this, I got in “trouble” and mommy made the decision to get me out of it. That made me “lose it” as is often said. I started to fight and disobey my mother. I even met a Muslim man on campus. He was nothing like my mother said. He treated me like a queen and never made me feel unintelligent or childlike despite the difference in our ages. I felt that I could trust him and he wanted to marry me and take care of me. Unfortunately we got into a fight; one caused because I simply lacked knowledge of Islam and therefore didn’t understand certain terminology. I was too ashamed of how I reacted to apologize to him, so instead I found myself agreeing with my mother’s assessment of Muslim men and so I left college, and began my journey.
I thought my life would be better, but the only blessings I received were my children - and even with them I’ve had to struggle, mostly because I was a single mother. The father of my daughters lived with me for many years but because he was so busy “building his empire” as he called it, I was still a single mother doing everything for my children and working and going back to college. Finally, I found out what he was doing - he was involved in drugs and was sleeping with other women, so we parted company.
I fell apart, but then, looking into my children’s faces, I knew I had to pull myself together - if only for them. Even in the face of immediate homelessness, I pressed on. I turned to the church for comfort, guidance and assistance, as it was the only place I knew. I was blessed to be able to buy a home and give a future to my daughters. All was going along fine, but then I felt that I needed someone to ease my burden. So I met someone and got married. We had a son and things should have been wonderful, but they weren’t. The father of my daughters took me to court and lied not only on me, but also on our oldest daughter and stole my youngest with the courts permission in 1999. I’m still trying to get her home - she is in danger with him and his new wife - the woman he was sleeping around with. My marriage fell apart, because my husband insisted that he heard the voice of god and was told that I was disobedient so he didn’t have to take care of us, even to the point of denying us groceries. I know now I was in an abusive marriage, yet all of my intelligence didn’t show me that at the time. Allah, tried to show me, but I ignored Him, but Allah did not leave me even then. I was so blessed but didn’t even know it.
All throughout this time, I was still struggling to find a church where I fit in. I couldn’t. The unanswered questions and the treatment of women in several denominations was just too real to be dismissed; so I stopped going but continued as best I could to keep my faith strong. So to hear my husband say that God told him that it was okay to mistreat me and the children just made me angry and more confused, because it felt like I was being punished for doubting what the church leaders told me. He finally left and I thought God had left me too.
Then one day in June 2001, I met a wonderful Muslim man. I thought he was decreed to be my new husband. He was not - but rather he was the catalyst that led me to finally opening my heart to the life I should have been leading all along - Islam. So I read everything I could find, trying to understand just what the status of women was and what was a man’s responsibility to a woman. Not only was I surprised to find that my mother was incorrect but I was also pleased to find answers to the questions I had asked for so long. My life had new meaning and purpose. I immediately and without hesitation made shahada and felt a great weight lifted from me. My journey through the wilderness of darkness - the darkness of misinformation, wrong guidance and ignorance was over.
Knowing how my mother felt about Muslim men, I was afraid to tell her; then I realized that perhaps her feelings were deeply personal and as a loving mother she wanted to shield me from similar hurts through the benefit of her experience. I loved my mother even more at that moment of realization - but I was still afraid to tell her. Finally, after much prayer I picked up the phone and in a round about way, told her how my life had changed. I explained that for so long I had felt uncertain about Christianity and what was said, taught and written; the half-truths and untruths and the changes that had been made over the years to suit man’s needs. I further explained to her that I had found what I was seeking - peace and unaltered truth -- in Islam. I expected her to start a lecture on why I shouldn’t get involved in an Islamic lifestyle and certainly not Muslim men; instead, she quietly and calmly confirmed what I had identified as the real issue - my father’s treatment of her in his days of wrong guidance. Mothers never cease to amaze; just when you think you have them figured out, they go and do something like this. I lost my dear Mother recently, so this is now one of her last and precious gifts to me -- the gift of understanding. I had some precious last moments with her and although she was very tired, I believe that she repeated shahada while I held her hand and recited it. I love my Mother and miss her already.
During our talk, I reminded my mother of how tired and discouraged I had become with working and how I would be perfectly content to stay at home, even though she had always taught me to be independent and have my own money. Once again, my mother surprised me. She said that she knew that’s how I felt and that she respects me for it and knows that I would indeed be happy as long as I could fill my days with what is important to me. The more I read, the more I understand that the role of single mother is not what Allah describes in the Quran. I long for the life that I know I can have by pleasing Allah and doing as he says in the “perfect guidebook for life”. I know that when Allah decrees it, it shall be.
I have much yet to do to break out of ways that have become commonplace for me because of circumstances, so while my journey through the wilderness of darkness is over, my journey along the right and straight path and finally to Jennah continues. This is a journey that I can make and know that I will not be alone - although we all make the journey by ourselves to please Allah.
All I can say is All praise to Allah. I was never alone even as I wandered through that wilderness of darkness.
Sura 16 - An-Nahl [The Bee] Verse 64-64:
64. وَمَا أَنْزَلْنَا عَلَيْكَ الْكِتَابَ إِلا لِتُبَيِّنَ لَهُمُ الَّذِي اخْتَلَفُوا فِيهِ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةً لِقَوْمٍ يُؤْمِنُونَ
Sura 16 - An-Nahl [The Bee] Verse 64-64:
64. And We sent down the Book to thee for the express purpose, that thou shouldst make clear to them those things in which they differ, and that it should be a guide and a mercy to those who believe.
Dr. Kari Ann Owen, Ph.D. / Sister Penomee
Dr. Kari Ann Owen, Ph.D. / Sister Penomee
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
A salaam aleikum, beloved family. “There is no god but Allah, and Muhammed is his messenger.” These are the words of the Shahadah oath, I believe.
The Creator is known by many names. His wisdom is always recognizable, and his presence made manifest in the love, tolerance and compassion present in our community.
His profound ability to guide us from a war-like individualism so rampant in American society to a belief in the glory and dignity of the Creator’s human family, and our obligations to and membership within that family. This describes the maturation of a spiritual personality, and perhaps the most desirable maturation of the psychological self, also.
My road to Shahadah began when an admired director, Tony Richardson, died of AIDS. Mr. Richardson director was already a brilliant and internationally recognized professional when I almost met him backstage at the play “Luther” at age 14.
Play writing for me has always been a way of finding degrees of spiritual and emotional reconciliation both within myself and between myself and a world I found rather brutal due to childhood circumstances. Instead of fighting with the world, I let my conflicts fight it out in my plays. Amazingly, some of us have even grown up together!
So as I began accumulating stage credits (productions and staged readings), beginning at age 17, I always retained the hope that I would someday fulfil my childhood dream of studying and working with Mr. Richardson. When he followed his homosexuality to America (from England) and a promiscuous community, AIDS killed him, and with him went another portion of my sense of belonging to and within American society. American and Western society to Islamic culture for moral guidance.
Why Islam and not somewhere else?
My birthmother’s ancestors were Spanish Jews who lived among Muslims until the Inquisition expelled the Jewish community in 1492. In my historical memory, which I feel at a deep level, the call of the muezzin is as deep as the lull of the ocean and the swaying of ships, the pounding of horses’ hooves across the desert, the assertion of love in the face of oppression.
I felt the birth of a story within me, and the drama took form as I began to learn of an Ottoman caliph’s humanity toward Jewish refugees at the time of my ancestors’ expulsions. Allah guided my learning, and I was taught about Islam by figures as diverse as Imam Siddiqi of the South Bay Islamic Association; Sister Hussein of Rahima; and my beloved adopted Sister, Maria Abdin, who is Native American and Muslim and a writer for the SBIA magazine, IQRA.
My first research interview was in a halal butcher shop in San Francisco’s Mission District, where my understanding of living Islam was profoundly affected by the first Muslim lady I had ever met: a customer who was in hijab, behaved with a sweet kindness and grace and also read, wrote and spoke four languages.
Her brilliance, coupled with her amazing (to me) freedom from arrogance, had a profound effect on the beginnings of my knowledge of how Islam can affect human behaviour.
Little did I know then that not only would a play be born, but a new Muslim.
The course of my research introduced me to much more about Islam than a set of facts, for Islam is a living religion. I learned how Muslims conduct themselves with a dignity and kindness, which lifts them above the American slave market of sexual competition and violence. I learned that Muslim men and women could actually be in each other’s presence without tearing each other to pieces, verbally and physically. And I learned that modest dress, perceived as a spiritual state, could uplift human behaviour and grant to both men and women a sense of their own spiritual worth.
Why did this seem so astonishing, and so astonishingly new?
Like most American females, I grew up in a slave market, comprised not only of the sexual sicknesses of my family, but the constant negative judging of my appearance by peers beginning at ages younger than seven. I was taught from a very early age by American society that my human worth consisted solely of my attractiveness (or, in my case, lack of it) to others. Needless to say, in this atmosphere, boys and girls, men and women, often grew to resent each other very deeply, given the desperate desire for peer acceptance, which seemed almost if not totally dependent not on one’s kindness or compassion or even intelligence, but on looks and the perception of those looks by others.
While I do not expect or look for human perfection among Muslims, the social differences are profound, and almost unbelievable to someone like myself.
I do not pretend to have any answers to the conflicts of the Middle East, except what the prophets, beloved in Islam, have already expressed. My disabilities prevent me from fasting, and from praying in the same prayer postures as most of you. At this time I dress modestly for an American woman, which is still not hijab.
But I love and respect the Islam I have come to know through the behaviour and words of the men and women I have come to know in AMILA and elsewhere, where I find a freedom from cruel emotional conflicts and a sense of imminent spirituality.
What else do I feel and believe about Islam?
I support and deeply admire Islam’s respect for same sex education; for the rights of women as well as men in society; for modest dress; and above all for sobriety and marriage, the two most profound foundations of my life, for I am 21 1/2 years sober and happily married. How wonderful to feel that one and half billion Muslims share my faith in the character development marriage allows us, and also in my decision to remain drug- and alcohol-free.
What, then, is Islam’s greatest gift in a larger sense?
In a society which presents us with constant pressure to immolate ourselves on the altars of unbridled instinct without respect for consequences, Islam asks us to regard ourselves as human persons created by Allah with the capacity for responsibility in our relations with others. Through prayer and charity and a commitment to sobriety and education, if we follow the path of Islam, we stand a good chance of raising children who will be free from the violence and exploitation which is robbing parents and children of safe schools and neighbourhoods, and often of their lives.
The support of the AMILA community and other friends, particularly at a time of some strife on the AMILA Net, causes me to affirm my original responses to Islam and declare that this is a marvellous community, for in its affirmation of Allah’s gifts of marriage, sobriety and other forms of responsibility, Islam shows us the way out of hell.
My husband, Silas, and I are grateful for your presence and your friendship. And as we prepare to lay the groundwork for adoption, we hope that we will continue to be blessed with your warm acceptance, for we want our child to feel the spiritual presence of Allah in the behaviour of surrounding adults and children. We hope that as other AMILA’ers consider becoming new parents, and become new parents, a progressive Islamic school might emerge... progressive meaning supportive and loving as well as superior in academics, arts and sports.
Maybe our computer whizzes will teach science and math while I teach creative writing and horseback riding!
Please consider us companions on the journey toward heaven, and please continue to look for us at your gatherings, on the AMILA net and in the colors and dreams of the sunset.
For there is no god but Allah, the Creator, and Muhammed, whose caring for the victims of war and violence still brings tears from me, is his Prophet.
A salaam aleikum
Sura 53 - An-Najm [The Star] Verse 23-23:
23. إِنْ هِيَ إِلا أَسْمَاءٌ سَمَّيْتُمُوهَا أَنْتُمْ وَآبَاؤُكُمْ مَا أَنْزَلَ اللَّهُ بِهَا مِنْ سُلْطَانٍ إِنْ يَتَّبِعُونَ إِلا الظَّنَّ وَمَا تَهْوَى الأنْفُسُ وَلَقَدْ جَاءَهُمْ مِنْ رَبِّهِمُ الْهُدَى
Sura 53 - An-Najm [The Star] Verse 23-23:
23. These are nothing but names which ye have devised,- ye and your fathers,- for which Allah has sent down no authority (whatever). They follow nothing but conjecture and what their own souls desire!- Even though there has already come to them Guidance from their Lord!
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
A salaam aleikum, beloved family. “There is no god but Allah, and Muhammed is his messenger.” These are the words of the Shahadah oath, I believe.
The Creator is known by many names. His wisdom is always recognizable, and his presence made manifest in the love, tolerance and compassion present in our community.
His profound ability to guide us from a war-like individualism so rampant in American society to a belief in the glory and dignity of the Creator’s human family, and our obligations to and membership within that family. This describes the maturation of a spiritual personality, and perhaps the most desirable maturation of the psychological self, also.
My road to Shahadah began when an admired director, Tony Richardson, died of AIDS. Mr. Richardson director was already a brilliant and internationally recognized professional when I almost met him backstage at the play “Luther” at age 14.
Play writing for me has always been a way of finding degrees of spiritual and emotional reconciliation both within myself and between myself and a world I found rather brutal due to childhood circumstances. Instead of fighting with the world, I let my conflicts fight it out in my plays. Amazingly, some of us have even grown up together!
So as I began accumulating stage credits (productions and staged readings), beginning at age 17, I always retained the hope that I would someday fulfil my childhood dream of studying and working with Mr. Richardson. When he followed his homosexuality to America (from England) and a promiscuous community, AIDS killed him, and with him went another portion of my sense of belonging to and within American society. American and Western society to Islamic culture for moral guidance.
Why Islam and not somewhere else?
My birthmother’s ancestors were Spanish Jews who lived among Muslims until the Inquisition expelled the Jewish community in 1492. In my historical memory, which I feel at a deep level, the call of the muezzin is as deep as the lull of the ocean and the swaying of ships, the pounding of horses’ hooves across the desert, the assertion of love in the face of oppression.
I felt the birth of a story within me, and the drama took form as I began to learn of an Ottoman caliph’s humanity toward Jewish refugees at the time of my ancestors’ expulsions. Allah guided my learning, and I was taught about Islam by figures as diverse as Imam Siddiqi of the South Bay Islamic Association; Sister Hussein of Rahima; and my beloved adopted Sister, Maria Abdin, who is Native American and Muslim and a writer for the SBIA magazine, IQRA.
My first research interview was in a halal butcher shop in San Francisco’s Mission District, where my understanding of living Islam was profoundly affected by the first Muslim lady I had ever met: a customer who was in hijab, behaved with a sweet kindness and grace and also read, wrote and spoke four languages.
Her brilliance, coupled with her amazing (to me) freedom from arrogance, had a profound effect on the beginnings of my knowledge of how Islam can affect human behaviour.
Little did I know then that not only would a play be born, but a new Muslim.
The course of my research introduced me to much more about Islam than a set of facts, for Islam is a living religion. I learned how Muslims conduct themselves with a dignity and kindness, which lifts them above the American slave market of sexual competition and violence. I learned that Muslim men and women could actually be in each other’s presence without tearing each other to pieces, verbally and physically. And I learned that modest dress, perceived as a spiritual state, could uplift human behaviour and grant to both men and women a sense of their own spiritual worth.
Why did this seem so astonishing, and so astonishingly new?
Like most American females, I grew up in a slave market, comprised not only of the sexual sicknesses of my family, but the constant negative judging of my appearance by peers beginning at ages younger than seven. I was taught from a very early age by American society that my human worth consisted solely of my attractiveness (or, in my case, lack of it) to others. Needless to say, in this atmosphere, boys and girls, men and women, often grew to resent each other very deeply, given the desperate desire for peer acceptance, which seemed almost if not totally dependent not on one’s kindness or compassion or even intelligence, but on looks and the perception of those looks by others.
While I do not expect or look for human perfection among Muslims, the social differences are profound, and almost unbelievable to someone like myself.
I do not pretend to have any answers to the conflicts of the Middle East, except what the prophets, beloved in Islam, have already expressed. My disabilities prevent me from fasting, and from praying in the same prayer postures as most of you. At this time I dress modestly for an American woman, which is still not hijab.
But I love and respect the Islam I have come to know through the behaviour and words of the men and women I have come to know in AMILA and elsewhere, where I find a freedom from cruel emotional conflicts and a sense of imminent spirituality.
What else do I feel and believe about Islam?
I support and deeply admire Islam’s respect for same sex education; for the rights of women as well as men in society; for modest dress; and above all for sobriety and marriage, the two most profound foundations of my life, for I am 21 1/2 years sober and happily married. How wonderful to feel that one and half billion Muslims share my faith in the character development marriage allows us, and also in my decision to remain drug- and alcohol-free.
What, then, is Islam’s greatest gift in a larger sense?
In a society which presents us with constant pressure to immolate ourselves on the altars of unbridled instinct without respect for consequences, Islam asks us to regard ourselves as human persons created by Allah with the capacity for responsibility in our relations with others. Through prayer and charity and a commitment to sobriety and education, if we follow the path of Islam, we stand a good chance of raising children who will be free from the violence and exploitation which is robbing parents and children of safe schools and neighbourhoods, and often of their lives.
The support of the AMILA community and other friends, particularly at a time of some strife on the AMILA Net, causes me to affirm my original responses to Islam and declare that this is a marvellous community, for in its affirmation of Allah’s gifts of marriage, sobriety and other forms of responsibility, Islam shows us the way out of hell.
My husband, Silas, and I are grateful for your presence and your friendship. And as we prepare to lay the groundwork for adoption, we hope that we will continue to be blessed with your warm acceptance, for we want our child to feel the spiritual presence of Allah in the behaviour of surrounding adults and children. We hope that as other AMILA’ers consider becoming new parents, and become new parents, a progressive Islamic school might emerge... progressive meaning supportive and loving as well as superior in academics, arts and sports.
Maybe our computer whizzes will teach science and math while I teach creative writing and horseback riding!
Please consider us companions on the journey toward heaven, and please continue to look for us at your gatherings, on the AMILA net and in the colors and dreams of the sunset.
For there is no god but Allah, the Creator, and Muhammed, whose caring for the victims of war and violence still brings tears from me, is his Prophet.
A salaam aleikum
Sura 53 - An-Najm [The Star] Verse 23-23:
23. إِنْ هِيَ إِلا أَسْمَاءٌ سَمَّيْتُمُوهَا أَنْتُمْ وَآبَاؤُكُمْ مَا أَنْزَلَ اللَّهُ بِهَا مِنْ سُلْطَانٍ إِنْ يَتَّبِعُونَ إِلا الظَّنَّ وَمَا تَهْوَى الأنْفُسُ وَلَقَدْ جَاءَهُمْ مِنْ رَبِّهِمُ الْهُدَى
Sura 53 - An-Najm [The Star] Verse 23-23:
23. These are nothing but names which ye have devised,- ye and your fathers,- for which Allah has sent down no authority (whatever). They follow nothing but conjecture and what their own souls desire!- Even though there has already come to them Guidance from their Lord!
Dr. Bilal Abdul-Alim
Dr. Bilal Abdul-Alim
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
Personally, I embraced Islam at the age of 24, in the summer of 1975, while studying medicine at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, Texas. After a long day of study, I went to bed on a Saturday night with no intention of becoming a Muslim.
However, two things happened during that night that would change my life completely. First of all, I had a dream in which I was commanded by a strong and firm voice, to embrace Islam immediately. I was reminded of how I had previously studied comparative religion at Wesleyan University, but refused to accept Islam even though I felt in my heart that it was the most practical way of life. When I woke up the next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed contemplating what to do, when the telephone rang. The call came from my ex-roommate from Wesleyan who had embraced Islam after graduation and was living in Washington, D.C. At that time, he was studying to be an attorney at Catholic University School of Law. This phone call was the second and final thing that convinced me to embrace Islam immediately.
My friend asked me, “Are you ready to become a Muslim?” I replied, “Why are you calling me this early in the morning with such a question?” He answered in the following way, “Last night, I had a dream. In that dream, I saw you smiling, surrounded by a sort of spiritual light (called Noor in Islam). Then, I heard a strong and powerful voice saying, ‘Allah has made this man a Muslim in the night and Allah has given him the name, Bilal Abdul-Alim (3 times). So, your job is to call him in the morning, and invite him to accept Islam and, give him his new name.” My friend continued by saying, “Don’t play games with me! Tell me what happened!” I then related my experience the night before with tears in my eyes. A few days later, I drove non-stop from Houston, Texas to Washington, D.C to accept Islam in the presence of my dear friend, Attorney Haroun G. Cook.
If you have access to records in the state of South Carolina, read the Moors Sundry Act of 1790. In a future article, Inshallah, I will go in to more details about the various tribes, their languages; in which some are influenced by Arabic, Persian, Hebrew words. Almost all of the tribe’s vocabulary includes the word Allah. The traditional dress code for Indian women includes the kimah and long dresses. For men, standard fare is turbans and long tops that come down to the knees. If you were to look at any of the old books on Cherokee clothing up until the time of 1832, you will see the men wearing turbans and the women wearing long head coverings. The last Cherokee chief who had a Muslim name was Ramadhan Ibn Wati of the Cherokees in 1866.
Sura 14 - Ibrahim [Abraham] Verse 12-12:
12. وَمَا لَنَا أَلا نَتَوَكَّلَ عَلَى اللَّهِ وَقَدْ هَدَانَا سُبُلَنَا وَلَنَصْبِرَنَّ عَلَى مَا آذَيْتُمُونَا وَعَلَى اللَّهِ فَلْيَتَوَكَّلِ الْمُتَوَكِّلُونَ
Sura 14 - Ibrahim [Abraham] Verse 12-12:
12. "No reason have we why we should not put our trust on Allah. Indeed He Has guided us to the Ways we (follow). We shall certainly bear with patience all the hurt you may cause us. For those who put their trust should put their trust on Allah."
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
Personally, I embraced Islam at the age of 24, in the summer of 1975, while studying medicine at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, Texas. After a long day of study, I went to bed on a Saturday night with no intention of becoming a Muslim.
However, two things happened during that night that would change my life completely. First of all, I had a dream in which I was commanded by a strong and firm voice, to embrace Islam immediately. I was reminded of how I had previously studied comparative religion at Wesleyan University, but refused to accept Islam even though I felt in my heart that it was the most practical way of life. When I woke up the next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed contemplating what to do, when the telephone rang. The call came from my ex-roommate from Wesleyan who had embraced Islam after graduation and was living in Washington, D.C. At that time, he was studying to be an attorney at Catholic University School of Law. This phone call was the second and final thing that convinced me to embrace Islam immediately.
My friend asked me, “Are you ready to become a Muslim?” I replied, “Why are you calling me this early in the morning with such a question?” He answered in the following way, “Last night, I had a dream. In that dream, I saw you smiling, surrounded by a sort of spiritual light (called Noor in Islam). Then, I heard a strong and powerful voice saying, ‘Allah has made this man a Muslim in the night and Allah has given him the name, Bilal Abdul-Alim (3 times). So, your job is to call him in the morning, and invite him to accept Islam and, give him his new name.” My friend continued by saying, “Don’t play games with me! Tell me what happened!” I then related my experience the night before with tears in my eyes. A few days later, I drove non-stop from Houston, Texas to Washington, D.C to accept Islam in the presence of my dear friend, Attorney Haroun G. Cook.
If you have access to records in the state of South Carolina, read the Moors Sundry Act of 1790. In a future article, Inshallah, I will go in to more details about the various tribes, their languages; in which some are influenced by Arabic, Persian, Hebrew words. Almost all of the tribe’s vocabulary includes the word Allah. The traditional dress code for Indian women includes the kimah and long dresses. For men, standard fare is turbans and long tops that come down to the knees. If you were to look at any of the old books on Cherokee clothing up until the time of 1832, you will see the men wearing turbans and the women wearing long head coverings. The last Cherokee chief who had a Muslim name was Ramadhan Ibn Wati of the Cherokees in 1866.
Sura 14 - Ibrahim [Abraham] Verse 12-12:
12. وَمَا لَنَا أَلا نَتَوَكَّلَ عَلَى اللَّهِ وَقَدْ هَدَانَا سُبُلَنَا وَلَنَصْبِرَنَّ عَلَى مَا آذَيْتُمُونَا وَعَلَى اللَّهِ فَلْيَتَوَكَّلِ الْمُتَوَكِّلُونَ
Sura 14 - Ibrahim [Abraham] Verse 12-12:
12. "No reason have we why we should not put our trust on Allah. Indeed He Has guided us to the Ways we (follow). We shall certainly bear with patience all the hurt you may cause us. For those who put their trust should put their trust on Allah."
Dennis Wayne, Brother Hasan
Dennis Wayne, Brother Hasan
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
Here is my background:
My name is Hasan. I was born Nov.10,1972, and was named Dennis Wayne. My mother is full blooded Native American, although our heritage is from different tribes including the Lumbee, Cherokee and Tuscarora. My father went to prison before I was born and I have never met him and I know nothing of him other than his name and the name of his mother.
Here is my story: When I was very young it was my desire to serve the Lord with righteous conduct and preaching. I loved righteousness and wanted to be like those righteous people who I had heard about in the Bible through the preachers at church and some movies on television.
One day, when I was about 6, 7 or 8 (I can’t remember the exact age. I was very young), I was outside with two other of my childhood friends and I was preaching to them. I was imitating what I had seen my preachers do in church. I was raised as a Southern Baptist although my mother was a Holiness and her own father a preacher from the same faith (Holiness). (He would travel from place to place, and was what was referred to as a Holy Roller).
Anyway, I was out there shouting, preaching the gospel of the Lord (astagfirlah), yelling “Amen”,”Halleleujah”, “Praise the Lord”, “Praise Jesus” and so forth. I was out there saying how Jesus was God and the Son of God. I even got to the ashes to ashes and dust to dust part. But while I was out there doing all this, it all of a sudden grew dark and began a deep thundering sound, but it wasn’t raining. I became very scared, but the reason I was scared wasn’t because of the storm itself. It was because I realized I was lying on Allah (God)and I felt that this was either a warning or going to be a punishment. But alhumdullilah it was only a warning, Allahu Alim.
This incident didn’t make me become muslim but I feel it was a sign which I would not remember until later on in life. Then another incident occurred when I was in middle school, in the 7th grade, and I was 13 yrs old. In my math class we had a man named Muhummad Uqdah who was our substitute teacher. I would always give him a hard time, because to me he looked like a caveman. Although I teased this man, deep down inside I hated to do such things but I was showing off for the other classmates. In my Social Studies class(History), we began studying the Middle East and its history and culture. It so happened that Mr.Uqdah was muslim so he was invited to our class to talk about Islam although he himself was not from the Middle East. He was African American. He began talking to us about Islam and showed us the salat. I knew it was the truth and wanted to become muslim. So after school when I went home, I picked up the phonebook and looked him up. I was getting ready to call him, infact I did dial his number, but I hung up because I started thinking about what my parents would think and other things. So I never called him and I didn’t become muslim, and I went on living my life. And I forgot this episode too until later on.
After finishing middle school, I went on to high school. I was pretty much considered a nerd. I was smart, didn’t really cause any trouble, hung out with other nerds, and my mother bought my clothes for me, which were mostly Hawaiian like shirts and cheap unbrandname pants. I was teased very much because of my dress, because for the most part high school was nothing more than a fashion show. (And it is still like this today) People used to tease me and say I looked like the Karate Kid and I wore Teddy Toughskin pants (toughskin was the name of the pants and Teddy came from Teddy Ruxpin-the little Teddy Bear). My family is poor and this was all we could afford and I would complain about such things back then, but now that I look back I am ashamed that I complained to my mother. All praise is due to Allah for my mother. I can never repay her for all that she has done for me.
Anyway, because of being teased and so forth, I eventually got a job so that I could buy my own clothes and so forth and have my own money, I would even save my lunch money so that I could put it towards my wad. So now since I start getting “cool” clothes, now I’m “cool”. And since I lived in a black neighborhood I got to be tough too. So I started drinking, hanging out, smoking weed, running my mouth to anyone and everyone, jacking folks, jumping people, and joining a gang, all so I could be cool. I had the ladies too, cause I was cute in my “cool” clothes. I was NWA. I even became mixed, because I sure wasn’t black, but I had a lot of people wondering. My life had become a lie, and was not the righteous life I had wanted to live since my youth. I used to drink and listen to rap music. And there was a lot of political messages in the rap music I listened to. And since I was Native American, I was angry with my situation in my own land.
But one day I was watching Rap City and there was a group on there (I can’t remember their name) and they were Muslim so they were asked about Islam. Their response was simple, “Islam is the TRUTH.” I was in awe by this statement and wanted to know more about Islam. So I started going to the library to get my hands on things about Islam, but all I could get a hold of was things like; Our Saviour Has Arrived, and How To Eat To Live-this book is from Elijah Poole in which he states if you eat one meal a day you will live forever, guess he didn’t follow his own advice. I also came across some Sufi stuff talking about how virtuous it is to wrap your turban around your head about a thousand times. Needless to say I didn’t find the guidance I was seeking.
Fortunately, one of my teachers at school, Fleming El Amin, was muslim and he lent me a copy of the Qur’an, not on school property of course. I kept it for some period of time without reading it. (I still had street affairs to attend to). But one night I finally sat down and opened up the Qur’an, I can’t remember why, but when I started reading it, I started crying because I knew these words were meant for me and the rest of mankind for that matter. It indeed is the truth, as simple as that. Nothing has the right to be worshipped except God alone.
So shortly after that I was able to run into another Muslim from my area and was given directions to the mosque. After going there and talking with the brothers I finally took shahadah at the age of 17. Alhumdullilah, Allah gave me back those things that I desired for myself from my youth and caused me to remember those signs from earlier on. I got back truth. I got back obedience to my Lord. I was able to leave those things which I was allowing to destroy my life. Most importantly, I got back my Lord with the correct understanding of how to worship and obey Him. And I pray for the same for those who read this and those who don’t read this. Ameen
One more thing I would like to mention: Eventhough I was spending much of my time being a thug, I still hadn’t lost my intelligence. During the summer I was enrolled in the Kenan College Prepatory Program at Winston-Salem State University. My last year in this program was the same year I became Muslim. I would talk to my friends and tell them about my interest in Islam. I had two friends in particular who were adamant about me not becoming muslim and would spend their time trying to talk me out of it. One friend, Sekou, ended up becoming muslim while at A&T State University, and the other friend, Orlando, ended up becoming muslim a few weeks ago at the same mosque I attend. WSSU is also where I met brother Husayn Abdur Rafi who gave me the directions to the masjid. It is a small miraculous world, alhumdullilah.
Salamu alaikum wa rahamtullah wabarakatu
Hasan
Sura 17 - Al-Isra [Isra, The Night Journey, Children of Israel] Verse 81-81:
81. وَقُلْ جَاءَ الْحَقُّ وَزَهَقَ الْبَاطِلُ إِنَّ الْبَاطِلَ كَانَ زَهُوقًا
Sura 17 - Al-Isra [Isra, The Night Journey, Children of Israel] Verse 81-81:
81. And say: "Truth has (now) arrived, and Falsehood perished: for Falsehood is (by its nature) bound to perish."
Disclaimer: This convert story has been published on ChallengeYourSoul.com as is, without being edited. It may promote views & ideas not supported by ChallengeYourSoul.com and/or which are not Islamically correct.
Here is my background:
My name is Hasan. I was born Nov.10,1972, and was named Dennis Wayne. My mother is full blooded Native American, although our heritage is from different tribes including the Lumbee, Cherokee and Tuscarora. My father went to prison before I was born and I have never met him and I know nothing of him other than his name and the name of his mother.
Here is my story: When I was very young it was my desire to serve the Lord with righteous conduct and preaching. I loved righteousness and wanted to be like those righteous people who I had heard about in the Bible through the preachers at church and some movies on television.
One day, when I was about 6, 7 or 8 (I can’t remember the exact age. I was very young), I was outside with two other of my childhood friends and I was preaching to them. I was imitating what I had seen my preachers do in church. I was raised as a Southern Baptist although my mother was a Holiness and her own father a preacher from the same faith (Holiness). (He would travel from place to place, and was what was referred to as a Holy Roller).
Anyway, I was out there shouting, preaching the gospel of the Lord (astagfirlah), yelling “Amen”,”Halleleujah”, “Praise the Lord”, “Praise Jesus” and so forth. I was out there saying how Jesus was God and the Son of God. I even got to the ashes to ashes and dust to dust part. But while I was out there doing all this, it all of a sudden grew dark and began a deep thundering sound, but it wasn’t raining. I became very scared, but the reason I was scared wasn’t because of the storm itself. It was because I realized I was lying on Allah (God)and I felt that this was either a warning or going to be a punishment. But alhumdullilah it was only a warning, Allahu Alim.
This incident didn’t make me become muslim but I feel it was a sign which I would not remember until later on in life. Then another incident occurred when I was in middle school, in the 7th grade, and I was 13 yrs old. In my math class we had a man named Muhummad Uqdah who was our substitute teacher. I would always give him a hard time, because to me he looked like a caveman. Although I teased this man, deep down inside I hated to do such things but I was showing off for the other classmates. In my Social Studies class(History), we began studying the Middle East and its history and culture. It so happened that Mr.Uqdah was muslim so he was invited to our class to talk about Islam although he himself was not from the Middle East. He was African American. He began talking to us about Islam and showed us the salat. I knew it was the truth and wanted to become muslim. So after school when I went home, I picked up the phonebook and looked him up. I was getting ready to call him, infact I did dial his number, but I hung up because I started thinking about what my parents would think and other things. So I never called him and I didn’t become muslim, and I went on living my life. And I forgot this episode too until later on.
After finishing middle school, I went on to high school. I was pretty much considered a nerd. I was smart, didn’t really cause any trouble, hung out with other nerds, and my mother bought my clothes for me, which were mostly Hawaiian like shirts and cheap unbrandname pants. I was teased very much because of my dress, because for the most part high school was nothing more than a fashion show. (And it is still like this today) People used to tease me and say I looked like the Karate Kid and I wore Teddy Toughskin pants (toughskin was the name of the pants and Teddy came from Teddy Ruxpin-the little Teddy Bear). My family is poor and this was all we could afford and I would complain about such things back then, but now that I look back I am ashamed that I complained to my mother. All praise is due to Allah for my mother. I can never repay her for all that she has done for me.
Anyway, because of being teased and so forth, I eventually got a job so that I could buy my own clothes and so forth and have my own money, I would even save my lunch money so that I could put it towards my wad. So now since I start getting “cool” clothes, now I’m “cool”. And since I lived in a black neighborhood I got to be tough too. So I started drinking, hanging out, smoking weed, running my mouth to anyone and everyone, jacking folks, jumping people, and joining a gang, all so I could be cool. I had the ladies too, cause I was cute in my “cool” clothes. I was NWA. I even became mixed, because I sure wasn’t black, but I had a lot of people wondering. My life had become a lie, and was not the righteous life I had wanted to live since my youth. I used to drink and listen to rap music. And there was a lot of political messages in the rap music I listened to. And since I was Native American, I was angry with my situation in my own land.
But one day I was watching Rap City and there was a group on there (I can’t remember their name) and they were Muslim so they were asked about Islam. Their response was simple, “Islam is the TRUTH.” I was in awe by this statement and wanted to know more about Islam. So I started going to the library to get my hands on things about Islam, but all I could get a hold of was things like; Our Saviour Has Arrived, and How To Eat To Live-this book is from Elijah Poole in which he states if you eat one meal a day you will live forever, guess he didn’t follow his own advice. I also came across some Sufi stuff talking about how virtuous it is to wrap your turban around your head about a thousand times. Needless to say I didn’t find the guidance I was seeking.
Fortunately, one of my teachers at school, Fleming El Amin, was muslim and he lent me a copy of the Qur’an, not on school property of course. I kept it for some period of time without reading it. (I still had street affairs to attend to). But one night I finally sat down and opened up the Qur’an, I can’t remember why, but when I started reading it, I started crying because I knew these words were meant for me and the rest of mankind for that matter. It indeed is the truth, as simple as that. Nothing has the right to be worshipped except God alone.
So shortly after that I was able to run into another Muslim from my area and was given directions to the mosque. After going there and talking with the brothers I finally took shahadah at the age of 17. Alhumdullilah, Allah gave me back those things that I desired for myself from my youth and caused me to remember those signs from earlier on. I got back truth. I got back obedience to my Lord. I was able to leave those things which I was allowing to destroy my life. Most importantly, I got back my Lord with the correct understanding of how to worship and obey Him. And I pray for the same for those who read this and those who don’t read this. Ameen
One more thing I would like to mention: Eventhough I was spending much of my time being a thug, I still hadn’t lost my intelligence. During the summer I was enrolled in the Kenan College Prepatory Program at Winston-Salem State University. My last year in this program was the same year I became Muslim. I would talk to my friends and tell them about my interest in Islam. I had two friends in particular who were adamant about me not becoming muslim and would spend their time trying to talk me out of it. One friend, Sekou, ended up becoming muslim while at A&T State University, and the other friend, Orlando, ended up becoming muslim a few weeks ago at the same mosque I attend. WSSU is also where I met brother Husayn Abdur Rafi who gave me the directions to the masjid. It is a small miraculous world, alhumdullilah.
Salamu alaikum wa rahamtullah wabarakatu
Hasan
Sura 17 - Al-Isra [Isra, The Night Journey, Children of Israel] Verse 81-81:
81. وَقُلْ جَاءَ الْحَقُّ وَزَهَقَ الْبَاطِلُ إِنَّ الْبَاطِلَ كَانَ زَهُوقًا
Sura 17 - Al-Isra [Isra, The Night Journey, Children of Israel] Verse 81-81:
81. And say: "Truth has (now) arrived, and Falsehood perished: for Falsehood is (by its nature) bound to perish."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
