Jewish Family from NewYork
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-salaamu-alaikum,
I come from a Jewish family in New York. My mother was from S. A. but also Jewish. She never was comfortable with anyone knowing that. When my father died, she remarried a Catholic and became one herself. And that is how she brought us up. From the age of 5 I was told that Jesus was also God...? I never felt comfortable with it.
We moved to the Philippines - that is where my stepfather was from. And life there was unbearable. My stepfather, to put it mildly, was abusive to me and my 2 brothers. The effect of that hard life: my spelling is poor, one of my brothers is now a drinker, and the other has a low selfworth.
When I grew up and we returned to the USA, I left home. I took care of myself by working hard. I never had time for God, whoever He was. I did not feel that God helped me in any way, so why bother? I did try to get back to my roots but Judaism made no sense, so I let that go. I did come across Muslims from time to time but the effect was, how do they dress that way, and why do they seem different? Over time, the idea of Islam kept coming back to me, so I tried to find out more. I read the history and life of Mohammed (saas). That is what got to me: such kindness and sabr (patience) in the face of hardships.
It seemed to me that my life had no direction, so I went to learn more. After reading surah Al-Fatihah, I knew I had come home - this is where I wanted to be! I became a Muslim and have never regretted it. I always knew there was only ONE God - ALLAH - and things have not been always easy for me. My mother died of cancer soon after I became a Muslim. But the faith I have helped me make it. Just being able to go to ALLAH with all my pain was such a relief. It is the only true lifestyle known to man, and it is the truth and the last chance for us. I wish all mankind could come to know the truth (haqq) of Islam, and its peace and beauty!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Jannah
Jannah
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.
Embracing the Truth
Born and raised by righteous parents who still strongly hold onto their identity through religion, it would seem striking that their sole daughter and oldest would depart from their teachings and embrace Islam. From early childhood, I excelled in academics but struggled through religious studies since I was unable to find any logic behind the structure of the Christian doctrines. It would have been easy to deviate from Christianity and explore other beliefs if it had not been for my family’s coercion and of course my young age. Most parents are faced with their children not behaving in their academic courses with other classmates or authority, but I was the child who asked more questions than desired and an over achiever. For a mathematic teacher, an inquisitive student is delightful, but in the realm of religion, especially Catholicism, such deviations from the norm were considered blasphemy. So at the tender age of ten my brother and I took conformation, and then again at eighteen, I accepted the final conformation vows as a Catholic. Why? A question I so often asked myself. Was it to make my parents happy or was it a result of my acceptance and submission to God through the authority of the Catholic Church? So for my parents, I continued to follow what they believed contrary to my own beliefs. This meant that I would have to search for the answers to my questions elsewhere.
Freedom was bestowed upon me as I gathered my belongings and moved to the University dormitory. Of course, this happened to be in the same city where my traditional Puerto Rican family lived but it was enough space to explore and confirm my beliefs. I became fixated with courses in the social sciences but my family’s powerful influence overwhelmed me to the point that my degree would be in science, as they preferred. I needed a nourishing environment, a location where enlightened people would surround me.
Convincing my parents that studying abroad in England would help expand my technique and knowledge of the chemical sciences, I left for six months overseas. To the best of their knowledge at the time, this was an opportunity for me to experience what they felt they were deprived. Today, they think this was their error as parents.
While studying in England, I became acquainted and later best of friends with Muslim girls from Brunei in my dormitory. I had read about other religions and countries but never had the pleasure of actually knowing such people. Unexpectedly, I decided to travel and explore Europe during the University spring break, 4 weeks to be precise, while my friends went to visit their families. During this period, I had the opportunity of visiting my first non-Christian environment in Morocco. I stayed in small towns away from tourists and immersed myself into the Moroccan culture. In addition, I saw the vast number of Muslims in Amsterdam and Germany. This led me to deeply question my Muslim friends about their clothing attire, religious differences, food preparation and most of all their own personal beliefs about being a Muslim.
Curiosity now consumed me. My priority was to examine Christianity and prove that my religious beliefs were not irrational even if it meant being considered a heretic by my family and in the eyes of the Catholic Church. I explored the historical roots of the trinity and the bible only to validate my theory that the Christian bible was written to appease the hierarchy of the church and politically strengthen their position of authority. As A. Osman states from his book Out of Egypt: ‘The Roots of Christianity Revealed’, ‘The Roman fathers of the early Church, combating what they regarded as heresy, began to place this theology in a historical setting, providing locations and dates for the life of Jesus. These doctrines were enforced by the authorities from the second half of the 4th century AD, when Rome adopted Christianity, causing it to spread throughout the world. It was when Rome, then the center of civilization, adopted Christianity that old books were burned to destroy the memory of the past, and history was rewritten to confirm new interpretations of past events.’
Arriving in the USA, I was prepared to use my knowledge acquired from my studies and experiences to openly discuss the problems with Christianity and this new religion I had encountered, Islam. I had not yet considered converting, since conversion had never been an idea I thought plausible with my family. It was Allah’s mercy that my mom who had been separated from my father now for three years allowed my father to divorce her and break away from Catholicism. She joined a Pentecost congregation and openly discussed the problems with being a Catholic rather than the concept of being Christian. I felt abandoned, empty and confused. I believed in one God but what were the correct ways to worship, submit and follow. How could I be righteous when I was blind to the correct path of Allah.
I continued course work in religious studies. I became aware of the diversity of religions and their sects of the Caribbean, Middle East and Asia. It was when I touched on Islam that my heart and mind were satisfied. It finally all made sense. Islam was inspiring and rational. For the first time, I felt content.
My decision to convert now came without hesitation and with strength to be steadfast since I had embarked on a lifetime journey and battle with non-believers. That meant accepting that my worst enemy would not be my neighbor or friend but my own family.
My first two years were the hardest. I faced my family only to engage in a debate over religion that would develop into a harsh argument about my ungratefulness and misuse of an education. I began to cover my hair August 4th, 2002 a month prior to the 9-11 attacks. It was this adversity as well as the constant struggle with my family that I found my self truly and entirely submitting to Allah. Today, my family accepts my beliefs and accommodates our differences. I remind them, ‘we don’t see through our soul or spirit, but the mind that is between the two’. With time and guidance from Allah, they too will embrace Islam.
Sura 18 - Al-Kahf [The Cave] Verse 13-13:
13. نَحْنُ نَقُصُّ عَلَيْكَ نَبَأَهُمْ بِالْحَقِّ إِنَّهُمْ فِتْيَةٌ آمَنُوا بِرَبِّهِمْ وَزِدْنَاهُمْ هُدًى
Sura 18 - Al-Kahf [The Cave] Verse 13-13:
13. We relate to thee their story in truth: they were youths who believed in their Lord, and We advanced them in guidance:
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.
Embracing the Truth
Born and raised by righteous parents who still strongly hold onto their identity through religion, it would seem striking that their sole daughter and oldest would depart from their teachings and embrace Islam. From early childhood, I excelled in academics but struggled through religious studies since I was unable to find any logic behind the structure of the Christian doctrines. It would have been easy to deviate from Christianity and explore other beliefs if it had not been for my family’s coercion and of course my young age. Most parents are faced with their children not behaving in their academic courses with other classmates or authority, but I was the child who asked more questions than desired and an over achiever. For a mathematic teacher, an inquisitive student is delightful, but in the realm of religion, especially Catholicism, such deviations from the norm were considered blasphemy. So at the tender age of ten my brother and I took conformation, and then again at eighteen, I accepted the final conformation vows as a Catholic. Why? A question I so often asked myself. Was it to make my parents happy or was it a result of my acceptance and submission to God through the authority of the Catholic Church? So for my parents, I continued to follow what they believed contrary to my own beliefs. This meant that I would have to search for the answers to my questions elsewhere.
Freedom was bestowed upon me as I gathered my belongings and moved to the University dormitory. Of course, this happened to be in the same city where my traditional Puerto Rican family lived but it was enough space to explore and confirm my beliefs. I became fixated with courses in the social sciences but my family’s powerful influence overwhelmed me to the point that my degree would be in science, as they preferred. I needed a nourishing environment, a location where enlightened people would surround me.
Convincing my parents that studying abroad in England would help expand my technique and knowledge of the chemical sciences, I left for six months overseas. To the best of their knowledge at the time, this was an opportunity for me to experience what they felt they were deprived. Today, they think this was their error as parents.
While studying in England, I became acquainted and later best of friends with Muslim girls from Brunei in my dormitory. I had read about other religions and countries but never had the pleasure of actually knowing such people. Unexpectedly, I decided to travel and explore Europe during the University spring break, 4 weeks to be precise, while my friends went to visit their families. During this period, I had the opportunity of visiting my first non-Christian environment in Morocco. I stayed in small towns away from tourists and immersed myself into the Moroccan culture. In addition, I saw the vast number of Muslims in Amsterdam and Germany. This led me to deeply question my Muslim friends about their clothing attire, religious differences, food preparation and most of all their own personal beliefs about being a Muslim.
Curiosity now consumed me. My priority was to examine Christianity and prove that my religious beliefs were not irrational even if it meant being considered a heretic by my family and in the eyes of the Catholic Church. I explored the historical roots of the trinity and the bible only to validate my theory that the Christian bible was written to appease the hierarchy of the church and politically strengthen their position of authority. As A. Osman states from his book Out of Egypt: ‘The Roots of Christianity Revealed’, ‘The Roman fathers of the early Church, combating what they regarded as heresy, began to place this theology in a historical setting, providing locations and dates for the life of Jesus. These doctrines were enforced by the authorities from the second half of the 4th century AD, when Rome adopted Christianity, causing it to spread throughout the world. It was when Rome, then the center of civilization, adopted Christianity that old books were burned to destroy the memory of the past, and history was rewritten to confirm new interpretations of past events.’
Arriving in the USA, I was prepared to use my knowledge acquired from my studies and experiences to openly discuss the problems with Christianity and this new religion I had encountered, Islam. I had not yet considered converting, since conversion had never been an idea I thought plausible with my family. It was Allah’s mercy that my mom who had been separated from my father now for three years allowed my father to divorce her and break away from Catholicism. She joined a Pentecost congregation and openly discussed the problems with being a Catholic rather than the concept of being Christian. I felt abandoned, empty and confused. I believed in one God but what were the correct ways to worship, submit and follow. How could I be righteous when I was blind to the correct path of Allah.
I continued course work in religious studies. I became aware of the diversity of religions and their sects of the Caribbean, Middle East and Asia. It was when I touched on Islam that my heart and mind were satisfied. It finally all made sense. Islam was inspiring and rational. For the first time, I felt content.
My decision to convert now came without hesitation and with strength to be steadfast since I had embarked on a lifetime journey and battle with non-believers. That meant accepting that my worst enemy would not be my neighbor or friend but my own family.
My first two years were the hardest. I faced my family only to engage in a debate over religion that would develop into a harsh argument about my ungratefulness and misuse of an education. I began to cover my hair August 4th, 2002 a month prior to the 9-11 attacks. It was this adversity as well as the constant struggle with my family that I found my self truly and entirely submitting to Allah. Today, my family accepts my beliefs and accommodates our differences. I remind them, ‘we don’t see through our soul or spirit, but the mind that is between the two’. With time and guidance from Allah, they too will embrace Islam.
Sura 18 - Al-Kahf [The Cave] Verse 13-13:
13. نَحْنُ نَقُصُّ عَلَيْكَ نَبَأَهُمْ بِالْحَقِّ إِنَّهُمْ فِتْيَةٌ آمَنُوا بِرَبِّهِمْ وَزِدْنَاهُمْ هُدًى
Sura 18 - Al-Kahf [The Cave] Verse 13-13:
13. We relate to thee their story in truth: they were youths who believed in their Lord, and We advanced them in guidance:
James “Jihad” Farrell
James “Jihad” Farrell
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 do not intend to bore you with preaching or beg for sympathy with this story. My intention is simple: To inform Muslims as well as non-Muslims that there is a greater realm of Islam other than that what you witness by some misguided Muslims and what you see from the television. I also do not intend to ruin the reputation of anyone mentioned in this story.
It seems like yesterday when I was a little boy growing up in the inner city of Chicago. Mom and Dad would both work full-time jobs trying to support a family of ten. Things just didn’t work out the way they planned. Dad began drinking heavily and soon took up a habit of gambling and abuse. Whenever dad was around he was either drunk or on his way to jail; dad would frequent the Chicago jails many times a month. In my opinion my father had been arrested about 200-300 times in his lifetime. Whenever mom and dad were together in the same house there would always be a fight and one of the two would need medical attention. There were a few incidents that I recall when dad pushed mom and mom split dads head open with a hammer…and yet another incident when mom slammed an iron in dads face…then another time she broke a beer bottle over dad’s head. Maybe he deserved it; I do not know. When the fighting between mom and dad would end, the children got the end results. My brother and I have been whipped with hangers, wires, poles, glass, pots and pans, sticks, bottles, cables…. Whatever they could get their hands on we were hit with it. One time my mother had caught my brother and I playing with matches. I told the truth and she only slapped me, my brother lied and had his hand stuck in an open flame on the stove until his skin boiled. The level of stress in our household was so extreme my mother had suffered from two maybe three miscarriages; one of the miscarriages she had reached passed six months of her pregnancy when the fetus exploded in her stomach – dad was in jail. My parents had gone through a lot. There were times when there was practically nothing to eat. Many nights mom would only have eggs and bread to prepare for dinner. I remember she would prepare our dinner and whatever we didn’t eat that was her meal, if we ate our entire share she would go to bed hungry. This happened for many years. Before I reached the age of 10 I began feeling the need to commit suicide. With everything happening around me I felt as if there was no reason to live at all.
Although my parents had sent us to weekly Catholic school and frequent the Church, my heart didn’t feel alive. I would simply feel the need to go in order to get away from what went on at home. In school I wasn’t the brightest child. As a 6th grader I had a reading level of a 1st grader. Every year throughout elementary school I was ordered to take summer school in order to pass to the next grade. I had failed the 2nd grade and hardly made through the remaining next 6. It was in the elementary school when I learned how to steal. It would become a constant habit. Whenever I had the chance I would steal anything and everything I could get my hands on. Sooner than later my brother had joined me. We went to Gas Stations and stole candy, then to Department stores and stole toys. There was one time when mom gave us a few dollars to buy dad a “Father’s Day” gift. My brother and I decided to spend the money on popcorn and nachos and stole his gift…Evidently we were caught and were about to be arrested; Mom came to our rescue.
A few years later my brother had went in his direction and I went my own way. I gave up on stealing and began writing music/poetry and playing guitar. I eventually joined a band and would use the “jam” sessions as a scapegoat to get away from my problems. In High School my brother had befriended many drug addicts and soon he began doing drugs. I am not saying he was a drug addict but he did drugs like the rest of them.
When I was about 12 maybe 13 I began working as an electrician helper with my uncle. I held that job until I was about 16, then I began working on my own doing electrical, carpentry and painting contract jobs. This helped me move out of my parents’ home and move into my first apartment. Around this time I had met a girl who would become my fiancé within a matter of months. I was the extremely shy type. As matter of fact she had asked me out on a date instead of the other way around. Needless to say, we were together and wanted to get married. About a year or 2 into our relationship she began practicing Islam. She was born into a family where her father was Muslim and her mother was Catholic. My fiancé was jammed in the middle; simply confused. She began informing me of the Muslim religion and I was completely turned off by the whole idea. The more she spoke of it the more I pushed her away. There was a period of time where I didn’t want to have anything to do with her simply because she was practicing a foreign thing. The reason of my hate toward the Muslims is due to my upbringing, the actions of the majority of Muslims and the news media. Every Arab/Muslim that I had ever met was no different than me, if they were different they were worse. I knew Muslims who did drugs, attempted murder, fornication, lesbians, etc.
At this period in time I was in a prime time of arrogance and didn’t even know it. I felt as if I was a living piece of God and nothing could destroy me. I felt as though I were better than everyone else. Nevertheless, I was a lonely person who needed someone by his side. My fiancé had given me a Qur’an as a gift for my 18th birthday. As I received the gift I cringed and felt like throwing it away. However, I simply stored it away in my closet not feeling the need to disrespect her. A few years earlier I got the urge to read. Once I began reading I couldn’t stop. My father had once told me…”When you were a younger we couldn’t get a book in your hands for anything in the world, now we can’t get a book out of your hands.” Now at this point of my life I had read numerous books and I was feeling that my philosophy of me being a part of God was a little shaky. While the Qur’an was accumulating dust in my closet I had prayed to God that He would send me a book or a sign with a key to all of the answers in the world. May I remind you that I knew nothing what the Qur’an was and never before have I even touched a Qur’an let alone hear about it.
One night, after I had cleaned the house, I stood in the kitchen looking onward toward the living room. The house looked beautiful. The round glass table to my right; the soft tender gray carpeting below my feet; the smooth arch dividing the dining area from the living area; then finally a comfortable dim light illuminated the setting. I suddenly had an urge to pick up the Qur’an and read it. I sat in my favorite tan colored recliner next to the end table. With the Qur’an in my hands I began to read the introduction of Abdullah Yusuf Ali. Before I knew it tears had flowed from my eyes. I wanted to beat myself senseless from how stubborn I was not to read this earlier. I read the same thing I believed all my life with a fine-tooth comb laying it all out straight. My heart overfilled with satisfaction and pain at the same time. Immediately I had called my fiancé and apologized for being an imbecile. We then agreed that our lives would indeed change and we would have to either get married or separate for good.
I was starving to learn more about Islam. Now that I had read the entire Qur’an I wanted to learn how to pray. I then began reading books about prayer and basically taught myself how to pray. For a person who felt that they were a piece of God and now bowing down to God this was probably the hardest thing I could do. I was embarrassed toward myself for praying to a thing that wasn’t even there. I then found books with English transliteration (followed along with the audio) and taught myself how to recite Qur’an. It was at this point where I wanted to go to the Mosque. I was given directions and hesitated many times. I would drive up to the Mosque, circle around a few times and turn back home. Then I started having dreams. May I point out that I had never seen a Mosque before this, nor have I ever been inside one. I didn’t even know what a Mosque was. Needless to say, I began having dreams that would twist my soul yet wake me with passion. I had a dream the night after I circled the Mosque. My dream began…I was walking in a well-lighted, flat levelled building. The carpet was soft and green and there were pillars/columns throughout this structure. Inside this building were friends from school and relatives that made my brief stay welcoming. The next morning I woke and went to the Mosque. And just like inside my dream I saw the very same setting; Green carpet, pillars/columns and people that made me feel at home. Some time later I had yet another dream of myself running through a field of grass. An army was behind me chasing me and chanting “Kill him, Kill him!” I then came to a safe ground and prayed to God that I would be safe. I was then given 9 men to help me defeat this army of thousands. Each man was given a stick for battle except me; I held a double-sided axe. As the opposing army grew nearer I closed my eyes and swung. When my eyes opened the opposing army was defeated. My army hadn’t a single scratch on them. I then appeared all alone in a Mosque contemplating on the victory. As I sat on a bench at the backside of the Mosque with my head down I felt a sudden presence. A hand touched my thigh. His perfect voice said “Victory.” I replied, “yes, with ten men.” He commented by adding, “With God you were limitless.” I then picked up my head and saw the most beautiful man I could ever imagine. His skin was the most perfect tone, his voice was gentle and soft but manly, and his presence was clear and comforting. He was clean from head to toe. His teeth shinned gleaming white and his beard covered his cheeks with style. --- I would have many dreams like this one for about 2 years.
In the summer of 1998 I had went to a Mosque on the North side of Chicago called the “Muslim Community Center (M.C.C.)” for a conference. At the conference I had publicly declared that I was Muslim. The man who had walked me through the testimony of faith was Jamal Badawi, whom I had no idea who he was. I knew that I just put a huge responsibility on my shoulders and my entire life would completely change.
By the spring of 1999 there was a Mosque being built from a tavern about 3-4 miles away from my home. The only problem, it was in a neighborhood I didn’t belong. The fact of the matter is I lived in an all white neighborhood and the Mosque was in an all black neighborhood. The whites and blacks are not allowed to walk through each other’s neighborhoods unless it’s for drugs, prostitution, or briefly passing through by car. I was the type that didn’t care. I walked the 3-4 miles to help the Muslims refurbish the Mosque. Throughout the whole summer of 1999 I walked back and forth at least twice a week. During this period I was harassed, spit at, rocks were thrown at me, children cursed at me…one of the many times I was harassed it was by the Police. I had just left the Mosque from the Friday prayer and I didn’t reach 2 blocks and an unmarked Police car pulled up next to me, and 2 uniformed men began shouting at me. “Turn around and put your hands on the car, now!” I slowly turned and placed my hands on the car. As one officer stuck his hands in my mouth and searched my entire body the other officer asked, “What are doing in this neighborhood boy?” I said, “It is my Sabbath day. I came to pray.” He replied, “You’re not suppose to be in this neighborhood. Now go back to your neighborhood and I don’t wanna see you back here.” I then walked home and returned back the following week. I continued to do this until the winter of 1999. This is the winter that changed my family forever. Up until this point I hadn’t been completely open with my family about my conversion. I knew that they would take it hard and probably beat me and throw me out so I felt that taking it step by step would be the best idea…it wasn’t. One night my father came home from work with snow all over his body and shoes. He didn’t bother brushing it off. He charged through the door like a madman and darted after me yelling and threatening my life. I just sat on the couch gripping the cushions hoping he wouldn’t smash my head into the wall. With his fist locked he brought it up to my face with extreme torment. Something held him back from knocking my head off. I know if it were a few years earlier I’d be in the hospital. My father just doesn’t stop when he reaches his boiling point. After he yelled and said he’d kill me I was no longer welcome in his home, my mother felt the same. I had nowhere to go. I began sleeping in my car and spending most of my time in libraries. It was very hard for me to get around because that winter Chicago had endured the worst blizzard since the 1970’s. Many nights I thought I was going to die due to the cold and hunger. I finally went back to the original Mosque I had dreamed about and slept there for one night; that’s all they allowed. Soon after that a friend had made a deal with me. I would build a prayer area in the 2nd level of his muffler shop and in return he would let me live there until I found a place of my own. As I built the prayer area I found a job and paid my way through college and eventually joined the Muslim Student Association (M.S.A.). By January 2000 a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to share an apartment paying 1/3 of the rent. I agreed. By the next month I was on my way to Saudi Arabia to make my pilgrimage. There is no other way to explain my experience other than…making the pilgrimage is like reliving and witnessing the history of Islam replay all over again. You’ll look at the mountains and catch a glimpse of the companions of the Prophet Muhammad journeying into the night; you’ll look at the Ka’ba and witness the destruction of the idols by the Prophet Abraham; you’ll stand on the mountain of Arafat and hear the final sermon of the Prophet Muhammad…When I left Saudi Arabia my heart cried to go back.
A few months after my return to the United States I was engaged for the second time. The engagement lasted about 5 months. At the ending of 2000 I was engaged for the 3rd time. This time there was more chemistry between the two of us and our level of understanding life was mutual. We had scheduled our wedding to be in the spring of 2001. Early February my fiancé had called me to inform me that she had cancer and was calling of the wedding and our relationship. More than anything I was hurt for her, not by her, but for her. She was a new convert, like myself and her family wasn’t supporting her at all. I knew what she was feeling and I knew the loneliness she was feeling. That was the end between us. It seemed as if every time I tried to plan out my life and make the decision it never worked out. I just gave up on trying to get married and left it all up to God.
March 2001, I had just returned from a week vacation in Florida and went to my favorite pizza restaurant. I developed a relationship with the owner from going there almost daily for about a year. Her and her husband had asked me if I wanted to get married and I told them, “no.” I said that I gave up on it. They told me to go home, take a shower and come back because they had some one for me to meet. Again, I left it all up to God. I went home prayed to God and did what they asked me to do. It was March 8th 2001 at 9 p.m. when I arrived at her house. I was engaged 3 times before and on each engagement I was nervous, but not this time. I was as calm as I would be if I were to hang out with my friends. I entered into the house with my two friends (later to find out they were the girls’ aunt and uncle) and I met a man who greeted me at the door, “Asalamu Alaykum.” I replied, “Wa Alaykum Salam.” I sat down and chatted with this man for a few moments and out came his daughter. We spoke for a few hours and I found myself beginning to wonder how I got where I was. Not so much the place and time but about a year prior to this I was homeless, living in my car. Needless to say, this woman that I had just met had became my wife. We were married July 8th 2001.
In the early weeks of November 2001 our lives had changed. Due to the actions of a few delusional people smashing into the world trade center building two months prior, the United States government went out on a full fledge war on Islam. The FBI paid many Islamic charity organizations a visit and shut them down; the Global Relief Foundation was one of them, I worked there since 1999. When the FBI raided the foundation they just didn’t shut down the organization under false pretences they ruined our reputation. They took everything from our organization including extension cords, hairbrushes, hair spray and moose, computers that were never used, fax machines, copy machines, cell phones, poems, personal files, etc. They took my house and car keys and refused to give them back. They drained our personal checking accounts from every last penny. They left us with nothing. And after they did that they raided our homes and invaded our privacy. Still to this day they have not found one penny used in the wrong way or used in any way other than that of supporting humanitarian aid. Their case is bogus. My wife and I were only married 4 months when all of this took place. The FBI had left us with only $30, that’s what was in my pocket. We had bills that needed to be paid, rent was due; almost no food in the house and Eid Al Fitr was in a day or so. But like always Allah was there to help.
I worked two jobs, sometimes 3 to get back where we needed to be. At the same time I had reunited with my mother and sisters after a few years of silence. On November 6th 2002, the first day of Ramadan, my son Amir James Farrell was born. My heart melted the first time I held him. I was there throughout the entire delivery and helped every step of the way. I cut the umbilical cord the first chance I got I kissed the person whom Allah has allowed me to raise, my son. Amir is my pride and joy and Laila (my wife) is my strength and comfort. Many people do not realize the importance a woman has in Islam. To conclude on this, I came to respect my mother so much more due to Islam and the birth of my son.
Early February 2003 I had reunited with my father. The last time I had seen or spoke to him was when he had threatened my life…I was happy to see him again.
There is so much more I can write and so many details I had left out but I did not want to bore anyone. My wife always tell me, “When you are feeling down just pick up a pen and write all the things you are grateful for…”
This brief story is a sample of just that.
Sura 6 - Al-Anaam [Cattle, Livestock] Verse 88-88:
88. ذَلِكَ هُدَى اللَّهِ يَهْدِي بِهِ مَنْ يَشَاءُ مِنْ عِبَادِهِ وَلَوْ أَشْرَكُوا لَحَبِطَ عَنْهُمْ مَا كَانُوا يَعْمَلُونَ
Sura 6 - Al-Anaam [Cattle, Livestock] Verse 88-88:
88. This is the guidance of Allah: He giveth that guidance to whom He pleaseth, of His worshippers. If they were to join other gods with Him, all that they did would be vain for them.
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 do not intend to bore you with preaching or beg for sympathy with this story. My intention is simple: To inform Muslims as well as non-Muslims that there is a greater realm of Islam other than that what you witness by some misguided Muslims and what you see from the television. I also do not intend to ruin the reputation of anyone mentioned in this story.
It seems like yesterday when I was a little boy growing up in the inner city of Chicago. Mom and Dad would both work full-time jobs trying to support a family of ten. Things just didn’t work out the way they planned. Dad began drinking heavily and soon took up a habit of gambling and abuse. Whenever dad was around he was either drunk or on his way to jail; dad would frequent the Chicago jails many times a month. In my opinion my father had been arrested about 200-300 times in his lifetime. Whenever mom and dad were together in the same house there would always be a fight and one of the two would need medical attention. There were a few incidents that I recall when dad pushed mom and mom split dads head open with a hammer…and yet another incident when mom slammed an iron in dads face…then another time she broke a beer bottle over dad’s head. Maybe he deserved it; I do not know. When the fighting between mom and dad would end, the children got the end results. My brother and I have been whipped with hangers, wires, poles, glass, pots and pans, sticks, bottles, cables…. Whatever they could get their hands on we were hit with it. One time my mother had caught my brother and I playing with matches. I told the truth and she only slapped me, my brother lied and had his hand stuck in an open flame on the stove until his skin boiled. The level of stress in our household was so extreme my mother had suffered from two maybe three miscarriages; one of the miscarriages she had reached passed six months of her pregnancy when the fetus exploded in her stomach – dad was in jail. My parents had gone through a lot. There were times when there was practically nothing to eat. Many nights mom would only have eggs and bread to prepare for dinner. I remember she would prepare our dinner and whatever we didn’t eat that was her meal, if we ate our entire share she would go to bed hungry. This happened for many years. Before I reached the age of 10 I began feeling the need to commit suicide. With everything happening around me I felt as if there was no reason to live at all.
Although my parents had sent us to weekly Catholic school and frequent the Church, my heart didn’t feel alive. I would simply feel the need to go in order to get away from what went on at home. In school I wasn’t the brightest child. As a 6th grader I had a reading level of a 1st grader. Every year throughout elementary school I was ordered to take summer school in order to pass to the next grade. I had failed the 2nd grade and hardly made through the remaining next 6. It was in the elementary school when I learned how to steal. It would become a constant habit. Whenever I had the chance I would steal anything and everything I could get my hands on. Sooner than later my brother had joined me. We went to Gas Stations and stole candy, then to Department stores and stole toys. There was one time when mom gave us a few dollars to buy dad a “Father’s Day” gift. My brother and I decided to spend the money on popcorn and nachos and stole his gift…Evidently we were caught and were about to be arrested; Mom came to our rescue.
A few years later my brother had went in his direction and I went my own way. I gave up on stealing and began writing music/poetry and playing guitar. I eventually joined a band and would use the “jam” sessions as a scapegoat to get away from my problems. In High School my brother had befriended many drug addicts and soon he began doing drugs. I am not saying he was a drug addict but he did drugs like the rest of them.
When I was about 12 maybe 13 I began working as an electrician helper with my uncle. I held that job until I was about 16, then I began working on my own doing electrical, carpentry and painting contract jobs. This helped me move out of my parents’ home and move into my first apartment. Around this time I had met a girl who would become my fiancé within a matter of months. I was the extremely shy type. As matter of fact she had asked me out on a date instead of the other way around. Needless to say, we were together and wanted to get married. About a year or 2 into our relationship she began practicing Islam. She was born into a family where her father was Muslim and her mother was Catholic. My fiancé was jammed in the middle; simply confused. She began informing me of the Muslim religion and I was completely turned off by the whole idea. The more she spoke of it the more I pushed her away. There was a period of time where I didn’t want to have anything to do with her simply because she was practicing a foreign thing. The reason of my hate toward the Muslims is due to my upbringing, the actions of the majority of Muslims and the news media. Every Arab/Muslim that I had ever met was no different than me, if they were different they were worse. I knew Muslims who did drugs, attempted murder, fornication, lesbians, etc.
At this period in time I was in a prime time of arrogance and didn’t even know it. I felt as if I was a living piece of God and nothing could destroy me. I felt as though I were better than everyone else. Nevertheless, I was a lonely person who needed someone by his side. My fiancé had given me a Qur’an as a gift for my 18th birthday. As I received the gift I cringed and felt like throwing it away. However, I simply stored it away in my closet not feeling the need to disrespect her. A few years earlier I got the urge to read. Once I began reading I couldn’t stop. My father had once told me…”When you were a younger we couldn’t get a book in your hands for anything in the world, now we can’t get a book out of your hands.” Now at this point of my life I had read numerous books and I was feeling that my philosophy of me being a part of God was a little shaky. While the Qur’an was accumulating dust in my closet I had prayed to God that He would send me a book or a sign with a key to all of the answers in the world. May I remind you that I knew nothing what the Qur’an was and never before have I even touched a Qur’an let alone hear about it.
One night, after I had cleaned the house, I stood in the kitchen looking onward toward the living room. The house looked beautiful. The round glass table to my right; the soft tender gray carpeting below my feet; the smooth arch dividing the dining area from the living area; then finally a comfortable dim light illuminated the setting. I suddenly had an urge to pick up the Qur’an and read it. I sat in my favorite tan colored recliner next to the end table. With the Qur’an in my hands I began to read the introduction of Abdullah Yusuf Ali. Before I knew it tears had flowed from my eyes. I wanted to beat myself senseless from how stubborn I was not to read this earlier. I read the same thing I believed all my life with a fine-tooth comb laying it all out straight. My heart overfilled with satisfaction and pain at the same time. Immediately I had called my fiancé and apologized for being an imbecile. We then agreed that our lives would indeed change and we would have to either get married or separate for good.
I was starving to learn more about Islam. Now that I had read the entire Qur’an I wanted to learn how to pray. I then began reading books about prayer and basically taught myself how to pray. For a person who felt that they were a piece of God and now bowing down to God this was probably the hardest thing I could do. I was embarrassed toward myself for praying to a thing that wasn’t even there. I then found books with English transliteration (followed along with the audio) and taught myself how to recite Qur’an. It was at this point where I wanted to go to the Mosque. I was given directions and hesitated many times. I would drive up to the Mosque, circle around a few times and turn back home. Then I started having dreams. May I point out that I had never seen a Mosque before this, nor have I ever been inside one. I didn’t even know what a Mosque was. Needless to say, I began having dreams that would twist my soul yet wake me with passion. I had a dream the night after I circled the Mosque. My dream began…I was walking in a well-lighted, flat levelled building. The carpet was soft and green and there were pillars/columns throughout this structure. Inside this building were friends from school and relatives that made my brief stay welcoming. The next morning I woke and went to the Mosque. And just like inside my dream I saw the very same setting; Green carpet, pillars/columns and people that made me feel at home. Some time later I had yet another dream of myself running through a field of grass. An army was behind me chasing me and chanting “Kill him, Kill him!” I then came to a safe ground and prayed to God that I would be safe. I was then given 9 men to help me defeat this army of thousands. Each man was given a stick for battle except me; I held a double-sided axe. As the opposing army grew nearer I closed my eyes and swung. When my eyes opened the opposing army was defeated. My army hadn’t a single scratch on them. I then appeared all alone in a Mosque contemplating on the victory. As I sat on a bench at the backside of the Mosque with my head down I felt a sudden presence. A hand touched my thigh. His perfect voice said “Victory.” I replied, “yes, with ten men.” He commented by adding, “With God you were limitless.” I then picked up my head and saw the most beautiful man I could ever imagine. His skin was the most perfect tone, his voice was gentle and soft but manly, and his presence was clear and comforting. He was clean from head to toe. His teeth shinned gleaming white and his beard covered his cheeks with style. --- I would have many dreams like this one for about 2 years.
In the summer of 1998 I had went to a Mosque on the North side of Chicago called the “Muslim Community Center (M.C.C.)” for a conference. At the conference I had publicly declared that I was Muslim. The man who had walked me through the testimony of faith was Jamal Badawi, whom I had no idea who he was. I knew that I just put a huge responsibility on my shoulders and my entire life would completely change.
By the spring of 1999 there was a Mosque being built from a tavern about 3-4 miles away from my home. The only problem, it was in a neighborhood I didn’t belong. The fact of the matter is I lived in an all white neighborhood and the Mosque was in an all black neighborhood. The whites and blacks are not allowed to walk through each other’s neighborhoods unless it’s for drugs, prostitution, or briefly passing through by car. I was the type that didn’t care. I walked the 3-4 miles to help the Muslims refurbish the Mosque. Throughout the whole summer of 1999 I walked back and forth at least twice a week. During this period I was harassed, spit at, rocks were thrown at me, children cursed at me…one of the many times I was harassed it was by the Police. I had just left the Mosque from the Friday prayer and I didn’t reach 2 blocks and an unmarked Police car pulled up next to me, and 2 uniformed men began shouting at me. “Turn around and put your hands on the car, now!” I slowly turned and placed my hands on the car. As one officer stuck his hands in my mouth and searched my entire body the other officer asked, “What are doing in this neighborhood boy?” I said, “It is my Sabbath day. I came to pray.” He replied, “You’re not suppose to be in this neighborhood. Now go back to your neighborhood and I don’t wanna see you back here.” I then walked home and returned back the following week. I continued to do this until the winter of 1999. This is the winter that changed my family forever. Up until this point I hadn’t been completely open with my family about my conversion. I knew that they would take it hard and probably beat me and throw me out so I felt that taking it step by step would be the best idea…it wasn’t. One night my father came home from work with snow all over his body and shoes. He didn’t bother brushing it off. He charged through the door like a madman and darted after me yelling and threatening my life. I just sat on the couch gripping the cushions hoping he wouldn’t smash my head into the wall. With his fist locked he brought it up to my face with extreme torment. Something held him back from knocking my head off. I know if it were a few years earlier I’d be in the hospital. My father just doesn’t stop when he reaches his boiling point. After he yelled and said he’d kill me I was no longer welcome in his home, my mother felt the same. I had nowhere to go. I began sleeping in my car and spending most of my time in libraries. It was very hard for me to get around because that winter Chicago had endured the worst blizzard since the 1970’s. Many nights I thought I was going to die due to the cold and hunger. I finally went back to the original Mosque I had dreamed about and slept there for one night; that’s all they allowed. Soon after that a friend had made a deal with me. I would build a prayer area in the 2nd level of his muffler shop and in return he would let me live there until I found a place of my own. As I built the prayer area I found a job and paid my way through college and eventually joined the Muslim Student Association (M.S.A.). By January 2000 a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to share an apartment paying 1/3 of the rent. I agreed. By the next month I was on my way to Saudi Arabia to make my pilgrimage. There is no other way to explain my experience other than…making the pilgrimage is like reliving and witnessing the history of Islam replay all over again. You’ll look at the mountains and catch a glimpse of the companions of the Prophet Muhammad journeying into the night; you’ll look at the Ka’ba and witness the destruction of the idols by the Prophet Abraham; you’ll stand on the mountain of Arafat and hear the final sermon of the Prophet Muhammad…When I left Saudi Arabia my heart cried to go back.
A few months after my return to the United States I was engaged for the second time. The engagement lasted about 5 months. At the ending of 2000 I was engaged for the 3rd time. This time there was more chemistry between the two of us and our level of understanding life was mutual. We had scheduled our wedding to be in the spring of 2001. Early February my fiancé had called me to inform me that she had cancer and was calling of the wedding and our relationship. More than anything I was hurt for her, not by her, but for her. She was a new convert, like myself and her family wasn’t supporting her at all. I knew what she was feeling and I knew the loneliness she was feeling. That was the end between us. It seemed as if every time I tried to plan out my life and make the decision it never worked out. I just gave up on trying to get married and left it all up to God.
March 2001, I had just returned from a week vacation in Florida and went to my favorite pizza restaurant. I developed a relationship with the owner from going there almost daily for about a year. Her and her husband had asked me if I wanted to get married and I told them, “no.” I said that I gave up on it. They told me to go home, take a shower and come back because they had some one for me to meet. Again, I left it all up to God. I went home prayed to God and did what they asked me to do. It was March 8th 2001 at 9 p.m. when I arrived at her house. I was engaged 3 times before and on each engagement I was nervous, but not this time. I was as calm as I would be if I were to hang out with my friends. I entered into the house with my two friends (later to find out they were the girls’ aunt and uncle) and I met a man who greeted me at the door, “Asalamu Alaykum.” I replied, “Wa Alaykum Salam.” I sat down and chatted with this man for a few moments and out came his daughter. We spoke for a few hours and I found myself beginning to wonder how I got where I was. Not so much the place and time but about a year prior to this I was homeless, living in my car. Needless to say, this woman that I had just met had became my wife. We were married July 8th 2001.
In the early weeks of November 2001 our lives had changed. Due to the actions of a few delusional people smashing into the world trade center building two months prior, the United States government went out on a full fledge war on Islam. The FBI paid many Islamic charity organizations a visit and shut them down; the Global Relief Foundation was one of them, I worked there since 1999. When the FBI raided the foundation they just didn’t shut down the organization under false pretences they ruined our reputation. They took everything from our organization including extension cords, hairbrushes, hair spray and moose, computers that were never used, fax machines, copy machines, cell phones, poems, personal files, etc. They took my house and car keys and refused to give them back. They drained our personal checking accounts from every last penny. They left us with nothing. And after they did that they raided our homes and invaded our privacy. Still to this day they have not found one penny used in the wrong way or used in any way other than that of supporting humanitarian aid. Their case is bogus. My wife and I were only married 4 months when all of this took place. The FBI had left us with only $30, that’s what was in my pocket. We had bills that needed to be paid, rent was due; almost no food in the house and Eid Al Fitr was in a day or so. But like always Allah was there to help.
I worked two jobs, sometimes 3 to get back where we needed to be. At the same time I had reunited with my mother and sisters after a few years of silence. On November 6th 2002, the first day of Ramadan, my son Amir James Farrell was born. My heart melted the first time I held him. I was there throughout the entire delivery and helped every step of the way. I cut the umbilical cord the first chance I got I kissed the person whom Allah has allowed me to raise, my son. Amir is my pride and joy and Laila (my wife) is my strength and comfort. Many people do not realize the importance a woman has in Islam. To conclude on this, I came to respect my mother so much more due to Islam and the birth of my son.
Early February 2003 I had reunited with my father. The last time I had seen or spoke to him was when he had threatened my life…I was happy to see him again.
There is so much more I can write and so many details I had left out but I did not want to bore anyone. My wife always tell me, “When you are feeling down just pick up a pen and write all the things you are grateful for…”
This brief story is a sample of just that.
Sura 6 - Al-Anaam [Cattle, Livestock] Verse 88-88:
88. ذَلِكَ هُدَى اللَّهِ يَهْدِي بِهِ مَنْ يَشَاءُ مِنْ عِبَادِهِ وَلَوْ أَشْرَكُوا لَحَبِطَ عَنْهُمْ مَا كَانُوا يَعْمَلُونَ
Sura 6 - Al-Anaam [Cattle, Livestock] Verse 88-88:
88. This is the guidance of Allah: He giveth that guidance to whom He pleaseth, of His worshippers. If they were to join other gods with Him, all that they did would be vain for them.
James / Jamal Lutfi
James / Jamal Lutfi
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 was raised in a Mormon family (my father was a Bishop) but also attended a Pentecostal Church. I converted to Islam about two years ago. My parents converted to Mormonism (LDS Church) when I was only 3 and so it was the only religion I knew up until I was a teenager. I lived in Central Florida (Bible Belt) where there was little tolerance for Mormons, much less Muslims.
I really tried to get a grip on the Mormon faith. I went on Temple trips to do the baptisms for the dead, I read the Book of Mormon, I prayed, etc.... However, I never received that testimony they always talked about. Sometimes I think we can convince ourselves of anything (gain a testimony) if we tell ourselves we want to believe something enough. I became so frustrated with teaching in the Mormon Church and nobody could answer my questions (why could African Americans not hold the priesthood until 1976, why would God curse someone with darker skin, why could Jesus create wine but we are forbidden to drink it, why could we not drink coca cola through my whole childhood and then when the Church gets stock in the company we can drink it and nothing is wrong). I left the church with much heartache.
I used to go with my friend to his Catholic Church but that made no sense to me at all.
The first time I heard of Islam from a Muslim was when I was in the Army training as a radio repair technician. While training we had a soldier from the Jordanian Army training with us, I believe his name was Sergeant Mutasum. I thought Islam was somewhat like Hinduism so I questioned him about how many gods he believed in and what he thought of Jesus (peace be upon him). I was really shocked when I found his beliefs were not all that different from mine except he believed in a Prophet named Muhammad (peace be upon him). I lost track of the Sergeant after the school ended and never thought much of Islam after that day. While in the Army I attended a small Pentecostal Church a few times and thought I would give it a go when I got out.
After leaving the Army I met some people that were Pentecostal and decided to join the “mainstream” Christian community. The people seemed really friendly and well intentioned. After about a year of going there I began to question again. Why were these people so caught up in emotion with no theological study? How could Jesus be God and make claims against it? What was this speaking in tongues nonsense, the people did not understand what they were saying? I felt there was more to the religion that Jesus left but I didn’t know where to find it. I quit the Pentecostal Church and went back to Mormonism.
Later in my life I travelled to Ogden, Utah to go to Weber State University. I wanted to give the Mormon Church another try. I signed up for religious classes at the LDS institute. I was not on a pilgrimage to get a theological degree but I wanted to be in the Mormon stronghold where I was not a minority. I really liked going to college and started going to Church regularly. While there I met a woman in an institute class. After one year of school and a stronger belief in the Mormon faith I decided to get married and it was sealed in the Salt Lake City temple. Everything was perfect, or so I thought.
After a few weeks of marriage I began to feel those thoughts of doubt about the Mormon Church and what they taught. I tried to believe so hard but it is difficult when the teachings are so contrary to what I perceived God to be. Can a man become a God? Can a God become a man? Can I create my own world one day? etc.... My ex-wife and I got along perfectly except in the area of religion. Eventually, after 4 years, we separated quite amicably and were better off. I felt that my lack of faith tore her down and I could not believe some of what I considered non-sense.
After my divorce I began searching the Internet for truth. I joined chat rooms on religion and joined in discussion boards. I met some Muslims and was fascinated. The beliefs they held were so close to mine. I did not believe Jesus was God, I believed Jesus was more than a normal man (a Messenger). After talking online I wanted to go meet some real Muslims so I went to a Mosque in Tempe, Arizona (next to Phoenix). While there I met a group of American Converts that were doing Dawah (basically telling people about Islam). They were just getting ready to leave when I walked in and told them I wanted to learn more about Islam. I told them where I stood and that I already believed much of what they did. After a long discussion and a study from the Quran and Bible I came to conclusion that I was a Muslim at heart, it was my parents that has raised me with those beliefs contrary to Islam. I told them I wanted to take my Shahadah (declaration of faith) and I embraced Islam that day. Imagine my surprise when the first time for Jummah came (Friday, the congregational day for Muslims to gather) and the Imam (leader) announced my conversion to Islam. I had hundreds of people giving me their phone numbers, hugging me, and accepting me as their brother. That brother hood and my faith have not wavered to this day. Anytime I have a question it is answered and that is the beauty of Islam.
Sura 39 - Az-Zumar [The Troops, Throngs] Verse 18-18:
18. الَّذِينَ يَسْتَمِعُونَ الْقَوْلَ فَيَتَّبِعُونَ أَحْسَنَهُ أُولَئِكَ الَّذِينَ هَدَاهُمُ اللَّهُ وَأُولَئِكَ هُمْ أُولُو الألْبَابِ
Sura 39 - Az-Zumar [The Troops, Throngs] Verse 18-18:
18. Those who listen to the Word, and follow the best (meaning) in it: those are the ones whom Allah has guided, and those are the ones endued with understanding.
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 was raised in a Mormon family (my father was a Bishop) but also attended a Pentecostal Church. I converted to Islam about two years ago. My parents converted to Mormonism (LDS Church) when I was only 3 and so it was the only religion I knew up until I was a teenager. I lived in Central Florida (Bible Belt) where there was little tolerance for Mormons, much less Muslims.
I really tried to get a grip on the Mormon faith. I went on Temple trips to do the baptisms for the dead, I read the Book of Mormon, I prayed, etc.... However, I never received that testimony they always talked about. Sometimes I think we can convince ourselves of anything (gain a testimony) if we tell ourselves we want to believe something enough. I became so frustrated with teaching in the Mormon Church and nobody could answer my questions (why could African Americans not hold the priesthood until 1976, why would God curse someone with darker skin, why could Jesus create wine but we are forbidden to drink it, why could we not drink coca cola through my whole childhood and then when the Church gets stock in the company we can drink it and nothing is wrong). I left the church with much heartache.
I used to go with my friend to his Catholic Church but that made no sense to me at all.
The first time I heard of Islam from a Muslim was when I was in the Army training as a radio repair technician. While training we had a soldier from the Jordanian Army training with us, I believe his name was Sergeant Mutasum. I thought Islam was somewhat like Hinduism so I questioned him about how many gods he believed in and what he thought of Jesus (peace be upon him). I was really shocked when I found his beliefs were not all that different from mine except he believed in a Prophet named Muhammad (peace be upon him). I lost track of the Sergeant after the school ended and never thought much of Islam after that day. While in the Army I attended a small Pentecostal Church a few times and thought I would give it a go when I got out.
After leaving the Army I met some people that were Pentecostal and decided to join the “mainstream” Christian community. The people seemed really friendly and well intentioned. After about a year of going there I began to question again. Why were these people so caught up in emotion with no theological study? How could Jesus be God and make claims against it? What was this speaking in tongues nonsense, the people did not understand what they were saying? I felt there was more to the religion that Jesus left but I didn’t know where to find it. I quit the Pentecostal Church and went back to Mormonism.
Later in my life I travelled to Ogden, Utah to go to Weber State University. I wanted to give the Mormon Church another try. I signed up for religious classes at the LDS institute. I was not on a pilgrimage to get a theological degree but I wanted to be in the Mormon stronghold where I was not a minority. I really liked going to college and started going to Church regularly. While there I met a woman in an institute class. After one year of school and a stronger belief in the Mormon faith I decided to get married and it was sealed in the Salt Lake City temple. Everything was perfect, or so I thought.
After a few weeks of marriage I began to feel those thoughts of doubt about the Mormon Church and what they taught. I tried to believe so hard but it is difficult when the teachings are so contrary to what I perceived God to be. Can a man become a God? Can a God become a man? Can I create my own world one day? etc.... My ex-wife and I got along perfectly except in the area of religion. Eventually, after 4 years, we separated quite amicably and were better off. I felt that my lack of faith tore her down and I could not believe some of what I considered non-sense.
After my divorce I began searching the Internet for truth. I joined chat rooms on religion and joined in discussion boards. I met some Muslims and was fascinated. The beliefs they held were so close to mine. I did not believe Jesus was God, I believed Jesus was more than a normal man (a Messenger). After talking online I wanted to go meet some real Muslims so I went to a Mosque in Tempe, Arizona (next to Phoenix). While there I met a group of American Converts that were doing Dawah (basically telling people about Islam). They were just getting ready to leave when I walked in and told them I wanted to learn more about Islam. I told them where I stood and that I already believed much of what they did. After a long discussion and a study from the Quran and Bible I came to conclusion that I was a Muslim at heart, it was my parents that has raised me with those beliefs contrary to Islam. I told them I wanted to take my Shahadah (declaration of faith) and I embraced Islam that day. Imagine my surprise when the first time for Jummah came (Friday, the congregational day for Muslims to gather) and the Imam (leader) announced my conversion to Islam. I had hundreds of people giving me their phone numbers, hugging me, and accepting me as their brother. That brother hood and my faith have not wavered to this day. Anytime I have a question it is answered and that is the beauty of Islam.
Sura 39 - Az-Zumar [The Troops, Throngs] Verse 18-18:
18. الَّذِينَ يَسْتَمِعُونَ الْقَوْلَ فَيَتَّبِعُونَ أَحْسَنَهُ أُولَئِكَ الَّذِينَ هَدَاهُمُ اللَّهُ وَأُولَئِكَ هُمْ أُولُو الألْبَابِ
Sura 39 - Az-Zumar [The Troops, Throngs] Verse 18-18:
18. Those who listen to the Word, and follow the best (meaning) in it: those are the ones whom Allah has guided, and those are the ones endued with understanding.
Jameka Neil
Jameka Neil
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 will say right away that I am very young. I am only 18, and that fact seems to astound most people. I think it is proof that we are never too young to begin looking for God, or to understand His truth.
I was raised Christian, nondenominational. We were never big churchgoers, but we always knew who our God was and what our obligation was to Him. In my living room to this day hangs a big velvet painting of Jesus as a black man. That left a huge imprint on me, because it made God real to me. Not only did he come to earth as a man, but also he was black like me.
In my preteen years I was a crusader for Christ. I wanted to convert the world and save souls. I believed blindly 100% in everything that was given to me by the Bible and my pastor/youth leader. Then one day I ran across something in the Bible that didn’t sound anything like the God who I had learned to love and obey. I thought perhaps I was just too young to understand and took it to a more knowledgeable Christian who confirmed that it was what I thought it was. My world fell apart.
I read the Bible, cover-to-cover, and marked along the way all of the things that were contradictory or ungodly. By the time I got to revelations I had a large segment of the Bible marked as invalid. So, thinking maybe I needed to look at it in a historical perspective I did my history work. There I found even more hypocrisy, blasphemy, and human tampering with Holy Scriptures. What shocked me was the story of the council of Nice where human men “divinely guided” decided which text would be in the Bible and which ones needed editing.
I also had to ask myself how God could be three and one at the same time. What happens to a good man like Ghandi when he dies without Jesus? Does Hitler get to go to heaven if he accepts Christ as his lord and saviour? What about those who have never been exposed to Christianity? I was once told that the trinity was part of the essence of God and that since the breadth and scope of God is beyond my understanding I should simply believe. I couldn’t worship a God I couldn’t understand.
I never lost my faith in God, I just decided that Christianity was not the right path for me to travel. I felt no kinship with fellow believers. I never felt anything special while attending service except that I was doing an obligatory service to God. So I wandered faithless, looking for something to hold on to. In my search I found Wicca, the Bahai faith, and finally Islam.
I studied Islam quietly, on my own, in secret, for two years. I wanted to be able to separate fact from fiction. I did not want to confuse Islam with the cultures that claim to practice Islam while instituting things that are clearly against all that Allah has revealed to us. I wanted to make the distinction between the religion and the societies that adopted it. That took time and patience. I met a lot of helpful brothers and sisters via e-mail who answered all of my questions and opened their lives up for me to examine.
I never liked the image that I was handed as to what a woman was. In popular culture we are portrayed as very sexy, lady like, independent enough so that men have no real responsibility toward us or the children they help create, but dependant enough that we are continually in search of a new man. The average woman on the street is honked at, whistled at, has had her butt or breasts pinched, slapped, rubbed, or ogled by some strange man. I never agreed with any of that and never found a “come on” flattering.
In Christianity I was taught that as a woman I should not teach in church or question the authority of any man in public. The picture painted of women in Christianity was one of inferiority. We were supposed to be chaste and silent with children about our feet. In Islam I found a voice, a system that gave me ultimate respect for being a mother and acknowledged the fact that I was equal to man in every way except one: physical strength. The hadith are littered with stories of women who spoke publicly and Islamic history is full of women who were leaders. It was a theology that I could respect because it respected me.
I had to ask myself if I really wanted to be like all of the people I saw around me. Who was really oppressed? The girl wearing skin-tight jeans getting catcalls from boys rolling by in cars was not free. She was society’s whore and she got no respect. I was thankful that my mother had never allowed me to wear such things, not that I ever wanted to, but her disapproval was an added incentive. After examining the position of the Muslim woman and what I felt to be truth in my heart, how could I deny Islam?
Six weeks ago I made the decision to convert to Islam. I did so and have not looked back since. My friends respect it because they see that it has not changed who I am and what I stand for, in fact it has backed it up. My advise to any woman out there is to ask herself these questions:
What do you want your daughter to believe about herself?
How should she allow herself to be treated?
Is she really born with evil tendencies because she is a descendant of Eve?
How do you want her to feel about her body?
What are you modelling for her?
What image of womanhood are you promoting?
How do men treat you and how do you allow yourself to be treated?
Sura 29 - Al-Ankaboot [The Spider] Verse 69-69:
69. وَالَّذِينَ جَاهَدُوا فِينَا لَنَهْدِيَنَّهُمْ سُبُلَنَا وَإِنَّ اللَّهَ لَمَعَ الْمُحْسِنِينَ
Sura 29 - Al-Ankaboot [The Spider] Verse 69-69:
69. And those who strive in Our (cause),- We will certainly guide them to our Paths: For verily Allah is with those who do right.
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 will say right away that I am very young. I am only 18, and that fact seems to astound most people. I think it is proof that we are never too young to begin looking for God, or to understand His truth.
I was raised Christian, nondenominational. We were never big churchgoers, but we always knew who our God was and what our obligation was to Him. In my living room to this day hangs a big velvet painting of Jesus as a black man. That left a huge imprint on me, because it made God real to me. Not only did he come to earth as a man, but also he was black like me.
In my preteen years I was a crusader for Christ. I wanted to convert the world and save souls. I believed blindly 100% in everything that was given to me by the Bible and my pastor/youth leader. Then one day I ran across something in the Bible that didn’t sound anything like the God who I had learned to love and obey. I thought perhaps I was just too young to understand and took it to a more knowledgeable Christian who confirmed that it was what I thought it was. My world fell apart.
I read the Bible, cover-to-cover, and marked along the way all of the things that were contradictory or ungodly. By the time I got to revelations I had a large segment of the Bible marked as invalid. So, thinking maybe I needed to look at it in a historical perspective I did my history work. There I found even more hypocrisy, blasphemy, and human tampering with Holy Scriptures. What shocked me was the story of the council of Nice where human men “divinely guided” decided which text would be in the Bible and which ones needed editing.
I also had to ask myself how God could be three and one at the same time. What happens to a good man like Ghandi when he dies without Jesus? Does Hitler get to go to heaven if he accepts Christ as his lord and saviour? What about those who have never been exposed to Christianity? I was once told that the trinity was part of the essence of God and that since the breadth and scope of God is beyond my understanding I should simply believe. I couldn’t worship a God I couldn’t understand.
I never lost my faith in God, I just decided that Christianity was not the right path for me to travel. I felt no kinship with fellow believers. I never felt anything special while attending service except that I was doing an obligatory service to God. So I wandered faithless, looking for something to hold on to. In my search I found Wicca, the Bahai faith, and finally Islam.
I studied Islam quietly, on my own, in secret, for two years. I wanted to be able to separate fact from fiction. I did not want to confuse Islam with the cultures that claim to practice Islam while instituting things that are clearly against all that Allah has revealed to us. I wanted to make the distinction between the religion and the societies that adopted it. That took time and patience. I met a lot of helpful brothers and sisters via e-mail who answered all of my questions and opened their lives up for me to examine.
I never liked the image that I was handed as to what a woman was. In popular culture we are portrayed as very sexy, lady like, independent enough so that men have no real responsibility toward us or the children they help create, but dependant enough that we are continually in search of a new man. The average woman on the street is honked at, whistled at, has had her butt or breasts pinched, slapped, rubbed, or ogled by some strange man. I never agreed with any of that and never found a “come on” flattering.
In Christianity I was taught that as a woman I should not teach in church or question the authority of any man in public. The picture painted of women in Christianity was one of inferiority. We were supposed to be chaste and silent with children about our feet. In Islam I found a voice, a system that gave me ultimate respect for being a mother and acknowledged the fact that I was equal to man in every way except one: physical strength. The hadith are littered with stories of women who spoke publicly and Islamic history is full of women who were leaders. It was a theology that I could respect because it respected me.
I had to ask myself if I really wanted to be like all of the people I saw around me. Who was really oppressed? The girl wearing skin-tight jeans getting catcalls from boys rolling by in cars was not free. She was society’s whore and she got no respect. I was thankful that my mother had never allowed me to wear such things, not that I ever wanted to, but her disapproval was an added incentive. After examining the position of the Muslim woman and what I felt to be truth in my heart, how could I deny Islam?
Six weeks ago I made the decision to convert to Islam. I did so and have not looked back since. My friends respect it because they see that it has not changed who I am and what I stand for, in fact it has backed it up. My advise to any woman out there is to ask herself these questions:
What do you want your daughter to believe about herself?
How should she allow herself to be treated?
Is she really born with evil tendencies because she is a descendant of Eve?
How do you want her to feel about her body?
What are you modelling for her?
What image of womanhood are you promoting?
How do men treat you and how do you allow yourself to be treated?
Sura 29 - Al-Ankaboot [The Spider] Verse 69-69:
69. وَالَّذِينَ جَاهَدُوا فِينَا لَنَهْدِيَنَّهُمْ سُبُلَنَا وَإِنَّ اللَّهَ لَمَعَ الْمُحْسِنِينَ
Sura 29 - Al-Ankaboot [The Spider] Verse 69-69:
69. And those who strive in Our (cause),- We will certainly guide them to our Paths: For verily Allah is with those who do right.
J. Scott Lynch “Saeed Muhammad”
J. Scott Lynch “Saeed Muhammad”
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 converted to Islam about 21 months ago. My journey to Islam was a long one that spanned over more than 2 decades.
All-American Boy
Allah is a permanent reality that works in the lives of those who hear His message. Not having a personal relationship with my Creator tugged at my heart and mind for nearly two decades. Then, I discovered Islam. I would not be considered in the West as a stereotypical Muslim. I believe the popular Western stereotype of a Muslim male is something like the following: dark skin, dark hair, bearded, Middle-Eastern or Asian descent, dressed in modest clothing and possibly a head covering. No, I’m the complete opposite of this. I am in many ways the epitome of the “all-American boy”: blond-hair, blue-eyed, corn-fed Protestant/Christian background. However, Islam and Muslims take on many faces, many backgrounds, many cultures, many nationalities and many tongues. Our family moved a few times in my youth, but my world was limited to the heart of the “Bible-belt” in Augusta, GA, and Spartanburg and Greenville, SC, all fairly large communities, but all offered little in religious diversity. I had normal, loving, God-fearing parents—they are still happily married today after more than 30 years, and one younger brother. I grew up as a “PK” (for those of you outside of Protestant Christianity, I was a “preacher’s kid”). My father was a Southern Baptist minister for more than 25 years. As you can imagine, for the first 18 years of my life, I attended church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night and any number of other nights that the church lights were on. I grew up believing in God and Jesus, or, should I say, fearing God and Jesus. Like most adolescents, I was afraid not to believe in the religion of my parents. However, something was wrong. I can recall thinking, even at age 10, “this Jesus’ story just doesn’t make sense to me.” Even at this young age, I didn’t accept the divinity of Jesus and the notion of Christian salvation (i.e., Jesus dying for my sins). As all my church friends were getting saved, baptized and confirmed during their pre-teen and teenage years (this all seemed like more of a rite of passage than a sincere decision for most, or just the popular thing to do), I quietly sat in the church pews questioning the fundamentals of Christian theology. My parents, my church-friends and the various churches my father pastored throughout my childhood all prayed for my salvation.
Then, one Sunday night, I succumbed to the pressure. I was 12 years old and my family was at the First Baptist Church of North Spartanburg (in Spartanburg, South Carolina). After a fiery sermon, which obviously moved a lot of people, my father came to me and said, “Son, do you want to ask Jesus into your heart? It’s about time you do so.” Tired of all the solicitations, tired of all the “Scott, we’re praying for you,” tired of always feeling like the one who didn’t belong, I lied to my father and said, “Yes POPS.” That night, I repeated after my father and supposedly accepted Jesus into my heart. I was presented to the church as a new Christian, baptized and immediately became part of the Christian community; although, I was very empty inside. For the next 5 years, I put on the charade of a good preacher’s kid. I attended Bible studies, went on summer mission trips and even had a couple “saves” (individuals becoming Christian) contributed to me. This was all under the veil of a big lie, that night when I was 12 years old, the night that I supposedly became a Christian myself, I never asked Jesus in my heart. True, I went through the motions, but it meant nothing to me.
When I graduated high school and it was time to go off to college, I only thought of one thing: religious freedom. I viewed the opportunity as the chance to move away from my parents and explore the religions of the world. I moved about 70 miles away from my parents to Rock Hill, SC, enrolled in Winthrop College and majored in religion. However, moving from one part of the “Bible-belt” to another part of the “Bible-belt” didn’t help my search. Rock Hill was a smaller town than I grew up in and there were even more churches per capita. Once again, the only religious diversity was in the form of what favor of Christianity you wanted for the week. I did manage to run across a couple freethinking religion professors that mentored me in exploring religion. If anything, they pointed me to many different sources to satisfy my quest. I rarely pushed the envelope of my comfort level and only ended up exploring different forms of Christianity. During the two years I spent in little Rock Hill, SC, I attended Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Pentecostal and many non-affiliated/community churches. It would not be until another couple years before I would experience non-Christian religious expression.
Beyond the “Chosen People” Vision
Unsatisfied with the lack of religious diversity, I left Rock Hill, SC for the University of South Carolina in the state’s capital of Columbia (metro population: half-million). I thought, “Surely I can find other religions in a city this size.” Once again, I majored in religion. While in Columbia for the remainder of my undergraduate degree, I became extremely interested in Judaism, but not on a spiritual level, but rather, on an academic level. I was attracted to the Hebrew language. I took more than 4 years of a combined Bible and Modern Hebrew course and excelled at reading the original scriptures and reading Jewish prayers. In fact, because one of my professors was a local rabbi, I even taught 6-grade Hebrew school for a term (to this day, a decade later, I can still read the Hebrew texts). I was very involved with Judaism in Columbia, SC, but much like Christianity, it’s fundamental beliefs seemed empty to me. Inside, I asked questions like, “If the Jews are considered God’s ‘chosen people’ where does that leave me?” While at the University of South Carolina, I was exposed to a glimpse of Islam. I took a class entitled “Islamic Institutions and Traditions.” It was taught by a non-Muslim who had taught university in Egypt, so he seemed to be an authority on Islam but the class did little for me other than provide a good textbook background for me. Half the class consisted of Muslims, so I think the class’ integrity was kept in check. Half way through the class, I did visit the local mosque and witnessed salah (prayer) for the first time. Although I didn’t understand what seemed like an impersonal approach to prayer and worship I was impressed by Islam’s simplicity and humbleness (e.g. prostrating before almighty Allah) in prayer and worship. My brief encounter with Islam, both in a college class and my visit to a mosque, planted a seed that would grow for the next ten years. After my undergraduate studies, I went out into the workforce. For the next 5 years, I withdrew from religion and became what I considered to be agnostic. I knew there was one God, however, I didn’t know a lot about Him. For me, Christianity and Judaism did not address the issue of the proper worship of one God. My professional positions took me all across the United States where I finally settled in Fort Collins, Colorado. After waking up day after day to the beautiful mountains, prairies and expanses of Colorado, I began to question the concept of “God” again. How could there be so much beauty and order in the world and God not intimately reveal Himself to mankind? I began to recall the religious experience I’d had over the past 10-15 years. I looked at Christianity and said “No.” I still couldn’t accept the Jesus theology. I looked at Judaism. Again, “No.” I couldn’t live with the Jewish customs and belief in a “chosen people.” Finally, I began to look at Islam. My impression of Islam was a combination of several things. It consisted of the one class I took in university, my one visit to the mosque in Columbia, SC, and then the media (I’ve now discovered that the U.S. media does not accurately display Islam). I began researching the fundamental beliefs of Islam. I decided to strip away the stereotypes and examine exactly what Islam is all about. After some study, I found the following:
1-Islam has the strongest declaration of monotheistic faith of any religion (I said to myself, “check, I agree”),
2-the belief that God has no partners (again, “big check”),
3-the belief that God has revealed Himself many times through prophets and messengers and His message has been confused and distorted by man (I always had a hard time believing parts of the Bible and its interpretation, so “check for now”),
4-that Islam is not just a religion, but an entire way of life (very appealing, “check”).
Reading the Qur’an
After reading about Islam, I set out to inquire a little deeper. I set out to find a Muslim. At the time of my inquiry into Islam, I was working in a very large company with more than 1000 employees. I thought, “Surely there’s a Muslim or two that would be willing to answer my questions.”
My search did not take long. I met a kind, quiet Muslim man named “Hani.” I approached the man and told him that I wanted to learn more about his religion. The first thing Hani recommended was reading the Qur’an, the revelation of Allah to His Prophet Muhammad. Hani even gave me a Qur’an (In fact, the small Arabic-English Qur’an that Brother Hani gave me is still one of my prized possessions.) Hani inscribed in it the following words that continue to touch my heart: “May Allah guide us to the right path.” I began reading the Qur’an and to my surprise, it made sense to me. Coming from a Christian background with a good understanding of Jewish history/theology, the Qur’an connected all the dots for me. It confirmed so many doubts I had about Judaism and Christianity, and provided the roadmap that I was looking for. After reading only part of the Qur’an, I said to myself, “I believe in this. I should be a Muslim.” But what would my family say? What would my friends say? What would my co-workers think? So, for months, I kept my feelings quiet and continued to study Islam silently. I began to read more books, subscribed to Muslim email lists, purchased Islamic videos and even began memorizing the prayers. Out of all the aspects of Islam that I observed, the prayer impacted me the most. Like the worshipers I saw in the videos, I too wanted to bow down and prostrate myself before my Holy Creator. Finally, after more than eight months of inquiry with my friend Hani, he must have sensed I was ready to take the next step.
In early January 2001, he invited me to the Islamic Center of Fort Collins (Colorado). It is where more than 1000 Muslims in Northern Colorado go to pray and worship. He invited me to the Fajr prayer (before sunrise). At that time, it was around 6:15 a.m. You can imagine what I was thinking: “God, you want me to get up before 6:00 on a cold Colorado winter morning and go worship you?” I recall not sleeping too well the night before. I felt like I was being called to do something. I made it down to Islamic Center and met up with Hani. When I went in, I was instructed to take off my shoes in the vestibule. I walked through a large communal area and Hani showed me the area that Muslims perform wudu, the washing and purifying of one’s body before going before Allah. Hani and I then went into the prayer area. The prayer area was a large, simple, quiet room. There were many books, mostly in Arabic, on several of the walls, and the room seemed to point in one direction (the direction to the Ka`bah in Makkah, or the first house of worship to Allah). When we walked in, there were 6-7 Muslim men praying. For the second time, I saw again in-person what I had seen only in videos, worshipers bowing before their Creator, but with a new understanding after all the careful reading I did. It sent chills down my spine. I too wanted to worship as the men before me. The familiar call to prayer, the Adhan, was called and Hani asked me if I wanted to pray. I nervously said, “Yes!” Hani said, “Just do as the rest of us do.” And for the first time, I prayed and worshiped Allah as He commands. I didn’t know all the words or their meanings, but it had a powerful impact. After the prayer, Hani asked me if I would like to become a Muslim. Again, I said, “Yes!” I had already practiced and said the Shahadah dozens of times, and on that cold morning on January 3, 2001, at around 6:30 a.m., I said it in front of those Muslim men. Al-Hamdulilah (Glory be to Allah), I became a Muslim.
The moment I said “La ilaha illaAllah Muhammad Rasooul Allah” (There is no god but Allah, Muhammad is the Prophet of Allah) in front of those men, I felt a huge burden lifted from my heart. I felt liberated from my search. For the first time in my life, I knew the Truth—the Truth of Allah. It’s now been over a year since I became a Muslim. Has it been easy? Not always. Have I had struggles, setbacks and doubts? Absolutely, I’m human. However, the past year has been the best of my life. Allah has blessed me beyond belief. I’ve had a peace about me that is indescribable. And although I can’t really describe how it feels, I know where it comes from—it comes minute-after-minute, hour-after-hour, day-after-day, trying my best to follow Allah’s true Deen (religion, way of life). My peace is knowing that Allah has revealed the Truth to me. To my Muslims brothers and sisters and all non-Muslims, may Allah guide us all to the right path.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 23-23:
23. وَإِنْ كُنْتُمْ فِي رَيْبٍ مِمَّا نَزَّلْنَا عَلَى عَبْدِنَا فَأْتُوا بِسُورَةٍ مِنْ مِثْلِهِ وَادْعُوا شُهَدَاءَكُمْ مِنْ دُونِ اللَّهِ إِنْ كُنْتُمْ صَادِقِينَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 23-23:
23. And if ye are in doubt as to what We have revealed from time to time to Our servant, then produce a Sura like thereunto; and call your witnesses or helpers (If there are any) besides Allah, if your (doubts) are true.
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 converted to Islam about 21 months ago. My journey to Islam was a long one that spanned over more than 2 decades.
All-American Boy
Allah is a permanent reality that works in the lives of those who hear His message. Not having a personal relationship with my Creator tugged at my heart and mind for nearly two decades. Then, I discovered Islam. I would not be considered in the West as a stereotypical Muslim. I believe the popular Western stereotype of a Muslim male is something like the following: dark skin, dark hair, bearded, Middle-Eastern or Asian descent, dressed in modest clothing and possibly a head covering. No, I’m the complete opposite of this. I am in many ways the epitome of the “all-American boy”: blond-hair, blue-eyed, corn-fed Protestant/Christian background. However, Islam and Muslims take on many faces, many backgrounds, many cultures, many nationalities and many tongues. Our family moved a few times in my youth, but my world was limited to the heart of the “Bible-belt” in Augusta, GA, and Spartanburg and Greenville, SC, all fairly large communities, but all offered little in religious diversity. I had normal, loving, God-fearing parents—they are still happily married today after more than 30 years, and one younger brother. I grew up as a “PK” (for those of you outside of Protestant Christianity, I was a “preacher’s kid”). My father was a Southern Baptist minister for more than 25 years. As you can imagine, for the first 18 years of my life, I attended church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night and any number of other nights that the church lights were on. I grew up believing in God and Jesus, or, should I say, fearing God and Jesus. Like most adolescents, I was afraid not to believe in the religion of my parents. However, something was wrong. I can recall thinking, even at age 10, “this Jesus’ story just doesn’t make sense to me.” Even at this young age, I didn’t accept the divinity of Jesus and the notion of Christian salvation (i.e., Jesus dying for my sins). As all my church friends were getting saved, baptized and confirmed during their pre-teen and teenage years (this all seemed like more of a rite of passage than a sincere decision for most, or just the popular thing to do), I quietly sat in the church pews questioning the fundamentals of Christian theology. My parents, my church-friends and the various churches my father pastored throughout my childhood all prayed for my salvation.
Then, one Sunday night, I succumbed to the pressure. I was 12 years old and my family was at the First Baptist Church of North Spartanburg (in Spartanburg, South Carolina). After a fiery sermon, which obviously moved a lot of people, my father came to me and said, “Son, do you want to ask Jesus into your heart? It’s about time you do so.” Tired of all the solicitations, tired of all the “Scott, we’re praying for you,” tired of always feeling like the one who didn’t belong, I lied to my father and said, “Yes POPS.” That night, I repeated after my father and supposedly accepted Jesus into my heart. I was presented to the church as a new Christian, baptized and immediately became part of the Christian community; although, I was very empty inside. For the next 5 years, I put on the charade of a good preacher’s kid. I attended Bible studies, went on summer mission trips and even had a couple “saves” (individuals becoming Christian) contributed to me. This was all under the veil of a big lie, that night when I was 12 years old, the night that I supposedly became a Christian myself, I never asked Jesus in my heart. True, I went through the motions, but it meant nothing to me.
When I graduated high school and it was time to go off to college, I only thought of one thing: religious freedom. I viewed the opportunity as the chance to move away from my parents and explore the religions of the world. I moved about 70 miles away from my parents to Rock Hill, SC, enrolled in Winthrop College and majored in religion. However, moving from one part of the “Bible-belt” to another part of the “Bible-belt” didn’t help my search. Rock Hill was a smaller town than I grew up in and there were even more churches per capita. Once again, the only religious diversity was in the form of what favor of Christianity you wanted for the week. I did manage to run across a couple freethinking religion professors that mentored me in exploring religion. If anything, they pointed me to many different sources to satisfy my quest. I rarely pushed the envelope of my comfort level and only ended up exploring different forms of Christianity. During the two years I spent in little Rock Hill, SC, I attended Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Pentecostal and many non-affiliated/community churches. It would not be until another couple years before I would experience non-Christian religious expression.
Beyond the “Chosen People” Vision
Unsatisfied with the lack of religious diversity, I left Rock Hill, SC for the University of South Carolina in the state’s capital of Columbia (metro population: half-million). I thought, “Surely I can find other religions in a city this size.” Once again, I majored in religion. While in Columbia for the remainder of my undergraduate degree, I became extremely interested in Judaism, but not on a spiritual level, but rather, on an academic level. I was attracted to the Hebrew language. I took more than 4 years of a combined Bible and Modern Hebrew course and excelled at reading the original scriptures and reading Jewish prayers. In fact, because one of my professors was a local rabbi, I even taught 6-grade Hebrew school for a term (to this day, a decade later, I can still read the Hebrew texts). I was very involved with Judaism in Columbia, SC, but much like Christianity, it’s fundamental beliefs seemed empty to me. Inside, I asked questions like, “If the Jews are considered God’s ‘chosen people’ where does that leave me?” While at the University of South Carolina, I was exposed to a glimpse of Islam. I took a class entitled “Islamic Institutions and Traditions.” It was taught by a non-Muslim who had taught university in Egypt, so he seemed to be an authority on Islam but the class did little for me other than provide a good textbook background for me. Half the class consisted of Muslims, so I think the class’ integrity was kept in check. Half way through the class, I did visit the local mosque and witnessed salah (prayer) for the first time. Although I didn’t understand what seemed like an impersonal approach to prayer and worship I was impressed by Islam’s simplicity and humbleness (e.g. prostrating before almighty Allah) in prayer and worship. My brief encounter with Islam, both in a college class and my visit to a mosque, planted a seed that would grow for the next ten years. After my undergraduate studies, I went out into the workforce. For the next 5 years, I withdrew from religion and became what I considered to be agnostic. I knew there was one God, however, I didn’t know a lot about Him. For me, Christianity and Judaism did not address the issue of the proper worship of one God. My professional positions took me all across the United States where I finally settled in Fort Collins, Colorado. After waking up day after day to the beautiful mountains, prairies and expanses of Colorado, I began to question the concept of “God” again. How could there be so much beauty and order in the world and God not intimately reveal Himself to mankind? I began to recall the religious experience I’d had over the past 10-15 years. I looked at Christianity and said “No.” I still couldn’t accept the Jesus theology. I looked at Judaism. Again, “No.” I couldn’t live with the Jewish customs and belief in a “chosen people.” Finally, I began to look at Islam. My impression of Islam was a combination of several things. It consisted of the one class I took in university, my one visit to the mosque in Columbia, SC, and then the media (I’ve now discovered that the U.S. media does not accurately display Islam). I began researching the fundamental beliefs of Islam. I decided to strip away the stereotypes and examine exactly what Islam is all about. After some study, I found the following:
1-Islam has the strongest declaration of monotheistic faith of any religion (I said to myself, “check, I agree”),
2-the belief that God has no partners (again, “big check”),
3-the belief that God has revealed Himself many times through prophets and messengers and His message has been confused and distorted by man (I always had a hard time believing parts of the Bible and its interpretation, so “check for now”),
4-that Islam is not just a religion, but an entire way of life (very appealing, “check”).
Reading the Qur’an
After reading about Islam, I set out to inquire a little deeper. I set out to find a Muslim. At the time of my inquiry into Islam, I was working in a very large company with more than 1000 employees. I thought, “Surely there’s a Muslim or two that would be willing to answer my questions.”
My search did not take long. I met a kind, quiet Muslim man named “Hani.” I approached the man and told him that I wanted to learn more about his religion. The first thing Hani recommended was reading the Qur’an, the revelation of Allah to His Prophet Muhammad. Hani even gave me a Qur’an (In fact, the small Arabic-English Qur’an that Brother Hani gave me is still one of my prized possessions.) Hani inscribed in it the following words that continue to touch my heart: “May Allah guide us to the right path.” I began reading the Qur’an and to my surprise, it made sense to me. Coming from a Christian background with a good understanding of Jewish history/theology, the Qur’an connected all the dots for me. It confirmed so many doubts I had about Judaism and Christianity, and provided the roadmap that I was looking for. After reading only part of the Qur’an, I said to myself, “I believe in this. I should be a Muslim.” But what would my family say? What would my friends say? What would my co-workers think? So, for months, I kept my feelings quiet and continued to study Islam silently. I began to read more books, subscribed to Muslim email lists, purchased Islamic videos and even began memorizing the prayers. Out of all the aspects of Islam that I observed, the prayer impacted me the most. Like the worshipers I saw in the videos, I too wanted to bow down and prostrate myself before my Holy Creator. Finally, after more than eight months of inquiry with my friend Hani, he must have sensed I was ready to take the next step.
In early January 2001, he invited me to the Islamic Center of Fort Collins (Colorado). It is where more than 1000 Muslims in Northern Colorado go to pray and worship. He invited me to the Fajr prayer (before sunrise). At that time, it was around 6:15 a.m. You can imagine what I was thinking: “God, you want me to get up before 6:00 on a cold Colorado winter morning and go worship you?” I recall not sleeping too well the night before. I felt like I was being called to do something. I made it down to Islamic Center and met up with Hani. When I went in, I was instructed to take off my shoes in the vestibule. I walked through a large communal area and Hani showed me the area that Muslims perform wudu, the washing and purifying of one’s body before going before Allah. Hani and I then went into the prayer area. The prayer area was a large, simple, quiet room. There were many books, mostly in Arabic, on several of the walls, and the room seemed to point in one direction (the direction to the Ka`bah in Makkah, or the first house of worship to Allah). When we walked in, there were 6-7 Muslim men praying. For the second time, I saw again in-person what I had seen only in videos, worshipers bowing before their Creator, but with a new understanding after all the careful reading I did. It sent chills down my spine. I too wanted to worship as the men before me. The familiar call to prayer, the Adhan, was called and Hani asked me if I wanted to pray. I nervously said, “Yes!” Hani said, “Just do as the rest of us do.” And for the first time, I prayed and worshiped Allah as He commands. I didn’t know all the words or their meanings, but it had a powerful impact. After the prayer, Hani asked me if I would like to become a Muslim. Again, I said, “Yes!” I had already practiced and said the Shahadah dozens of times, and on that cold morning on January 3, 2001, at around 6:30 a.m., I said it in front of those Muslim men. Al-Hamdulilah (Glory be to Allah), I became a Muslim.
The moment I said “La ilaha illaAllah Muhammad Rasooul Allah” (There is no god but Allah, Muhammad is the Prophet of Allah) in front of those men, I felt a huge burden lifted from my heart. I felt liberated from my search. For the first time in my life, I knew the Truth—the Truth of Allah. It’s now been over a year since I became a Muslim. Has it been easy? Not always. Have I had struggles, setbacks and doubts? Absolutely, I’m human. However, the past year has been the best of my life. Allah has blessed me beyond belief. I’ve had a peace about me that is indescribable. And although I can’t really describe how it feels, I know where it comes from—it comes minute-after-minute, hour-after-hour, day-after-day, trying my best to follow Allah’s true Deen (religion, way of life). My peace is knowing that Allah has revealed the Truth to me. To my Muslims brothers and sisters and all non-Muslims, may Allah guide us all to the right path.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 23-23:
23. وَإِنْ كُنْتُمْ فِي رَيْبٍ مِمَّا نَزَّلْنَا عَلَى عَبْدِنَا فَأْتُوا بِسُورَةٍ مِنْ مِثْلِهِ وَادْعُوا شُهَدَاءَكُمْ مِنْ دُونِ اللَّهِ إِنْ كُنْتُمْ صَادِقِينَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 23-23:
23. And if ye are in doubt as to what We have revealed from time to time to Our servant, then produce a Sura like thereunto; and call your witnesses or helpers (If there are any) besides Allah, if your (doubts) are true.
It filled me with peace and happiness
It filled me with peace and happiness
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 folks believed in God, but did not “practice” their “faith”. I was raised as a devote Christian with my Grandparents being heavily involved with Church activities and members of the board. As I grew up I was extremely well versed in all the song hymns and scriptures (as well as I went to a private school for elementary).
When I went to college I went to a Christian University. It was there that I was first exposed to Islam. We were required to learn of other faiths; I believe this was to strengthen our faith. This exposure did not strengthen my faith, but rather created doubts and questions.
The odd thing is that while studying a little bit of Islam I met a Muslim man that I befriended who introduced me to their community of friends where I met a man that is now my husband. When married I still had not converted nor interested in conversion. I knew that there was only one faith and it was the path of Christianity. I had no intentions of converting my husband and he had no intentions of converting me. After about two years of marriage we decided to have baby and that’s when everything started to change for me.
My husband had been diagnosed with Kidney failure and I was two months pregnant. Times were difficult needless to say. I found myself angry and praying to God. I found little comfort in turning to God. At some point I think I just disconnected from God and my faith. When my daughter was about 2 ½ I started to think about her future and her up bringing. I knew there was a God, but had lost my relationship and could not raise a child into that type of world. I begin to look into Islam, as I knew my husband would not allow me to raise her in my faith. I did not share this with him because I did not want to be pushed into something I knew only a little bit about. I began going to the mosque and meeting with the Imam as I knew he was an educated man in Islam who could answer my questions in great detail. I struggled with the thought of conversion, as it was so ingrained in my head that “Christianity” was the only correct faith. I started to analyze my previous beliefs with what I was now learning and realized that I had some decisions to make and had to be honest with myself and reasons for even considering a new faith. When I stepped outside of the box it became apparent to me that I was following “Christianity” because that was what I knew and the only faith I really ever learned about. I realized that there were so many missing pieces to the puzzle in my faith and lack of understanding why certain routines and actions were being taken within the faith.
At first I thought, “Oh you are just doing this because you want your daughter to believe in “something”. It may be that which started the search, but it is not what ultimately made me decide to convert. After grilling a ton of people and reading a ton of books, I realized that Islam was a way of life that provided guidelines and with understanding. The day that I took Shahadah it filled me with peace and happiness. The idea of conversion also meant sharing the information with my family so that they would understand a few changes in my life. Change is always a struggle, but with our personal Jihad we grow and learn and this makes us stronger Muslims.
Sura 31 - Luqman [Luqman] Verse 5-5:
5. أُولَئِكَ عَلَى هُدًى مِنْ رَبِّهِمْ وَأُولَئِكَ هُمُ الْمُفْلِحُونَ
Sura 31 - Luqman [Luqman] Verse 5-5:
5. These are on (true) guidance from their Lord: and these are the ones who will prosper.
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 folks believed in God, but did not “practice” their “faith”. I was raised as a devote Christian with my Grandparents being heavily involved with Church activities and members of the board. As I grew up I was extremely well versed in all the song hymns and scriptures (as well as I went to a private school for elementary).
When I went to college I went to a Christian University. It was there that I was first exposed to Islam. We were required to learn of other faiths; I believe this was to strengthen our faith. This exposure did not strengthen my faith, but rather created doubts and questions.
The odd thing is that while studying a little bit of Islam I met a Muslim man that I befriended who introduced me to their community of friends where I met a man that is now my husband. When married I still had not converted nor interested in conversion. I knew that there was only one faith and it was the path of Christianity. I had no intentions of converting my husband and he had no intentions of converting me. After about two years of marriage we decided to have baby and that’s when everything started to change for me.
My husband had been diagnosed with Kidney failure and I was two months pregnant. Times were difficult needless to say. I found myself angry and praying to God. I found little comfort in turning to God. At some point I think I just disconnected from God and my faith. When my daughter was about 2 ½ I started to think about her future and her up bringing. I knew there was a God, but had lost my relationship and could not raise a child into that type of world. I begin to look into Islam, as I knew my husband would not allow me to raise her in my faith. I did not share this with him because I did not want to be pushed into something I knew only a little bit about. I began going to the mosque and meeting with the Imam as I knew he was an educated man in Islam who could answer my questions in great detail. I struggled with the thought of conversion, as it was so ingrained in my head that “Christianity” was the only correct faith. I started to analyze my previous beliefs with what I was now learning and realized that I had some decisions to make and had to be honest with myself and reasons for even considering a new faith. When I stepped outside of the box it became apparent to me that I was following “Christianity” because that was what I knew and the only faith I really ever learned about. I realized that there were so many missing pieces to the puzzle in my faith and lack of understanding why certain routines and actions were being taken within the faith.
At first I thought, “Oh you are just doing this because you want your daughter to believe in “something”. It may be that which started the search, but it is not what ultimately made me decide to convert. After grilling a ton of people and reading a ton of books, I realized that Islam was a way of life that provided guidelines and with understanding. The day that I took Shahadah it filled me with peace and happiness. The idea of conversion also meant sharing the information with my family so that they would understand a few changes in my life. Change is always a struggle, but with our personal Jihad we grow and learn and this makes us stronger Muslims.
Sura 31 - Luqman [Luqman] Verse 5-5:
5. أُولَئِكَ عَلَى هُدًى مِنْ رَبِّهِمْ وَأُولَئِكَ هُمُ الْمُفْلِحُونَ
Sura 31 - Luqman [Luqman] Verse 5-5:
5. These are on (true) guidance from their Lord: and these are the ones who will prosper.
Islam and me
Islam and me
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 name is Lyndsey-Yazmeen Koenig; I am 17 years old and I live in Maine in the northeastern United States of America. I have been a Muslim since September 18th, 2001. This is my story of Islam and me.
“Jewish people celebrate Hanukah and are a different religion than us – different from Christianity. Judaism and Christianity are the two main religions we should focus on…” As a teacher of mine from ninth grade reported to me I knew nothing of Islam. Nine years in Public School and didn’t hear one word about Islam. To be honest with you up until 9\11 I have never seen a hijaabed woman.
“It seems as though this was a terror attack aimed at the U.S.A. by someone or something that hated us simply hated us.” It was the day after 9\11 and I was watching the news, as I have done nonstop since then, and I heard about ‘Islam’ and ‘Muslims.’ I sat there wondering what they were. Right then I felt a string being pulled inside my brain sending a wave to my fingers telling me, “research, research, and research!” This happens to me a lot, I owe much of my knowledge to this reflex, which I adore so much. So the string was pulled letting the dam of knowledge came rushing towards me.
I run to the bathroom, bedroom find the comfiest pair of clothes I have preparing myself for a long day of reading and research. Grab a cup of coffee and put my long hair in it’s famous ‘rats nest’ on the top of my head. Turn the computer on and get comfy in the leather chair. Cold to the touch, but comforting like my pilot’s chair on my way to wisdom. I proceed to the search engine Dad has raved about; I type in ‘Muslim’ and press the magic ‘go’ key! My eyes fill with colors of red, white, blue – letters of ‘m’, ‘i’ – Links! Links! Links! Which to chose, they’re all so beautiful!? There are the regular sites…then there are the exceptional sites! The first one I ventured into was www.islamonline.net taught me the basics but I still yearned for more. I continued to visit numerous websites but I still couldn’t find exactly what I was looking for. I wanted to talk to a young Muslim girl my age. It took me about a week of serious searching and scaling almost all of the internet (probably, LoL) to find an e-mail pen pal site. Now the real story begins.
I filed my pen-pal form on the site writing, ‘Non-Muslim seeking to speak with Muslim young woman to find out more about Islam’ and hoped for the best. Within three days I received an e-mail from a young woman named Maryam who is a born Muslim, but her mom is a revert. Maryam and I began talking just about school, family, friends, and our problems. We became very close friends, almost sisters. As I was continuing to watch the American Media, which I would later find out is very bias, and usually sides with the Jewish people, I had more and more questions on Islam. Except this time I actually had someone to ask the specific questions to. The first question I asked was ‘Do u think UBL did this?’ and she kind of avoided my question (which I later found out why and will explain) so I went on. The next question was about the scarf (hijaab); she answered me with unwavering attention and precision. The hijaab was the hardest thing to put into action for me (I will explain later). But Maryam (bless her soul) did her best and told me everything she could – and what she couldn’t she gave me URL’s which I could read more information if I wanted. Then there were the rules about boyfriends, pork, and more. The rules weren’t the things that caught my attention, it was the benefits, love, structure, discipline, and most of all spirituality.
I was never religious before Islam. I went to church maybe a total of five times in my life. My mother grew up in a strict Roman Catholic family in New Hampshire with 6 children. My father grew up in a Protestant\Atheist household – really not practicing ever once. So our religious life in the Koenig family was not very strong. I can remember going to church as a child and hating it. The other times I can only remember are funerals and weddings. I just remember listening to the Priests babble on and on never made sense to me. Once in a great while when I was feeling low I would read some of the Bible but always felt like it was a boggled mess that was so difficult to understand and comprehend. Not just that but it didn’t make sense to me at all. Before Islam I always felt like there was a big chunk of my heart missing yet I didn’t know what it was.
“So, how do I convert?” I asked Maryam on an early fall day. “Take the shaada.” I took the shaada. Now I am a Muslim. The date is September 18th, 2001. My heart felt full, I felt I have a purpose, life inside me to live.
I went to good ol’ Wal-Mart and bought some plain handkerchiefs – blue, red, green, and pink. I decided to wear these as my souped up version of makeshift hijaab. I have worn handkerchiefs over my hair before; it was not a big difference for me. Then came the days of wearing the handkerchiefs for 2 weeks, maybe three and going out one damp cold morning without it. It was almost as though I couldn’t function. I realized it’s time to try the full hijaab. I met another sister, Umme (means Mom in Arabic, but she’s like a mom to me), from Maryland via the computer. Because I was looking for someone to send me some books, maybe some extra hijaabs. Bless Umme’s soul because I went to the mailbox one morning and got the beloved yellow slip saying ‘you have a box’ so I went literally POSTAL (no pun intended, yeah right) wondering if it was from Umme or my Aunt – my aunt always sends me tons and tons of hair products which I can’t get enough of. “Here it is…someone sent you a lot of stuff,” said the Postal Worker and I look up and to my amazement there’s a box as two times wider then me (and trust me, that’s wide) and half my height!!! My eyes open with wonder and shear excitement! I lug the box out to the car and squeeze it into my mom’s Nissan Altima, which thank goodness is a large car, if I would have had my Saab I would have had to tie it to the roof, and flew home as fast as I could. “It’s a box of treasures!!! Ma’ come look!! I can’t believe this!!” I said to my mother, screaming with excitement almost tearing up because I couldn’t believe a person could ever be this generous. This was my second encounter of the love and sincerity of Islam (of course Maryam).
The box contained treasures. Dresses, Hijaabs, Books, Pamplets, Qur’an, Pocket sized Qur’an, tapes, and the most beloved and used present of all “The Beginner’s Guide to Prayer”. I still have this pamphlet now and it’s falling apart – I still have to use it on the last part of my prayer (where you’re sitting) because I don’t know all of it yet. I have never used a book so much in my life.
I took out the hijaabs and the dresses and I wore my favorite outfit of all.
Now comes the story of hijaab; the best benefit Allah has given to us women. To start the story off correctly I should explain how my mother reacted to me being a Muslim. She at first didn’t understand what exactly it was. Luckily I had Maryam to help me out on this one as well. Her mother, is a revert and she had to go through the same thing I was going through (telling her family) and she was nice enough to send my mother an e-mail explaining and trying to help. She helped a lot; mom was a bit more relaxed. It took about a week for her to warm up to Islam; to this day she still asks questions and I couldn’t be more happy to answer them.
Onto hijaab story! The first day I went out in hijaab was in my new drabs (above) and could not feel more proud. There are not enough words in the English, French, and German dictionaries to explain the way I felt. Since this was about almost 2 months after 9\11 everyone was still on shaky ground about Muslims. I thought, living in the sticks of Maine, that everyone would be so mean to me because a lot of people here 99.99% of them are Christian and about 50% are racist. I was wrong; I totally underestimated my own people. People were looking at me (of course) but not in a negative way. I thought the hijaab was going to be a total mess (the first time I heard of it) but today it is the best blessing Allah has given to us. The benefits [to list] would take me years, if not centuries. The most important of all is the modesty in front of men. I always, since I began to become a woman, have felt like a sirloin steak being picked over by men every day! The only time when I feel safe and secure is in my Islamic Dress…that consists of hijaab (covering hair, neck and ears) and loose fitting clothes. Until this day, anytime which I go out without hijaab (which, alhumdulilah has been few) I feel like I am completely naked! The hijaab, for women, is the best thing possible. I would also like to point out [to the non-Muslims] this important fact! In the ‘Muslim’ countries (Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan, etc.) where 99.99% of the women cover, the rate of rape and sexual assault are so low they barely exist. This is a fact – (NOTE: Get the statistics from the sisters!)- Not just a rumor.
The rest of my story is incredibly amazing. I have been living the Muslim life, alhumdulilah, and I have been trying to do my best. I have since stopped a lot of haraam (sinful) actions and continue to work on getting rid of the rest. The last part of my story is the most amazing part. I would never guess this would ever happen. My father, who I said earlier has no religion, started to see the change Islam had on my life (for the positive) and he took note of this. I was on the telephone with him one night and he asked me to send him some information on what Islam consists of. When I heard this I said to myself, “This is the pure actions of Allah; no one, or thing, could have possibly done such an act of pure grace.” This is Islam in brief, and this is Islam and me.
Thank you (Salaams),
Author’s note: I would like to dedicate This to Maryam Ezzedine, Umme Zahid, And Allah.
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 85-85:
85. إِنَّ الَّذِي فَرَضَ عَلَيْكَ الْقُرْآنَ لَرَادُّكَ إِلَى مَعَادٍ قُلْ رَبِّي أَعْلَمُ مَنْ جَاءَ بِالْهُدَى وَمَنْ هُوَ فِي ضَلالٍ مُبِينٍ
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 85-85:
85. Verily He Who ordained the Qur'an for thee, will bring thee back to the Place of Return. Say: "My Lord knows best who it is that brings true guidance, and who is in manifest error."
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 name is Lyndsey-Yazmeen Koenig; I am 17 years old and I live in Maine in the northeastern United States of America. I have been a Muslim since September 18th, 2001. This is my story of Islam and me.
“Jewish people celebrate Hanukah and are a different religion than us – different from Christianity. Judaism and Christianity are the two main religions we should focus on…” As a teacher of mine from ninth grade reported to me I knew nothing of Islam. Nine years in Public School and didn’t hear one word about Islam. To be honest with you up until 9\11 I have never seen a hijaabed woman.
“It seems as though this was a terror attack aimed at the U.S.A. by someone or something that hated us simply hated us.” It was the day after 9\11 and I was watching the news, as I have done nonstop since then, and I heard about ‘Islam’ and ‘Muslims.’ I sat there wondering what they were. Right then I felt a string being pulled inside my brain sending a wave to my fingers telling me, “research, research, and research!” This happens to me a lot, I owe much of my knowledge to this reflex, which I adore so much. So the string was pulled letting the dam of knowledge came rushing towards me.
I run to the bathroom, bedroom find the comfiest pair of clothes I have preparing myself for a long day of reading and research. Grab a cup of coffee and put my long hair in it’s famous ‘rats nest’ on the top of my head. Turn the computer on and get comfy in the leather chair. Cold to the touch, but comforting like my pilot’s chair on my way to wisdom. I proceed to the search engine Dad has raved about; I type in ‘Muslim’ and press the magic ‘go’ key! My eyes fill with colors of red, white, blue – letters of ‘m’, ‘i’ – Links! Links! Links! Which to chose, they’re all so beautiful!? There are the regular sites…then there are the exceptional sites! The first one I ventured into was www.islamonline.net taught me the basics but I still yearned for more. I continued to visit numerous websites but I still couldn’t find exactly what I was looking for. I wanted to talk to a young Muslim girl my age. It took me about a week of serious searching and scaling almost all of the internet (probably, LoL) to find an e-mail pen pal site. Now the real story begins.
I filed my pen-pal form on the site writing, ‘Non-Muslim seeking to speak with Muslim young woman to find out more about Islam’ and hoped for the best. Within three days I received an e-mail from a young woman named Maryam who is a born Muslim, but her mom is a revert. Maryam and I began talking just about school, family, friends, and our problems. We became very close friends, almost sisters. As I was continuing to watch the American Media, which I would later find out is very bias, and usually sides with the Jewish people, I had more and more questions on Islam. Except this time I actually had someone to ask the specific questions to. The first question I asked was ‘Do u think UBL did this?’ and she kind of avoided my question (which I later found out why and will explain) so I went on. The next question was about the scarf (hijaab); she answered me with unwavering attention and precision. The hijaab was the hardest thing to put into action for me (I will explain later). But Maryam (bless her soul) did her best and told me everything she could – and what she couldn’t she gave me URL’s which I could read more information if I wanted. Then there were the rules about boyfriends, pork, and more. The rules weren’t the things that caught my attention, it was the benefits, love, structure, discipline, and most of all spirituality.
I was never religious before Islam. I went to church maybe a total of five times in my life. My mother grew up in a strict Roman Catholic family in New Hampshire with 6 children. My father grew up in a Protestant\Atheist household – really not practicing ever once. So our religious life in the Koenig family was not very strong. I can remember going to church as a child and hating it. The other times I can only remember are funerals and weddings. I just remember listening to the Priests babble on and on never made sense to me. Once in a great while when I was feeling low I would read some of the Bible but always felt like it was a boggled mess that was so difficult to understand and comprehend. Not just that but it didn’t make sense to me at all. Before Islam I always felt like there was a big chunk of my heart missing yet I didn’t know what it was.
“So, how do I convert?” I asked Maryam on an early fall day. “Take the shaada.” I took the shaada. Now I am a Muslim. The date is September 18th, 2001. My heart felt full, I felt I have a purpose, life inside me to live.
I went to good ol’ Wal-Mart and bought some plain handkerchiefs – blue, red, green, and pink. I decided to wear these as my souped up version of makeshift hijaab. I have worn handkerchiefs over my hair before; it was not a big difference for me. Then came the days of wearing the handkerchiefs for 2 weeks, maybe three and going out one damp cold morning without it. It was almost as though I couldn’t function. I realized it’s time to try the full hijaab. I met another sister, Umme (means Mom in Arabic, but she’s like a mom to me), from Maryland via the computer. Because I was looking for someone to send me some books, maybe some extra hijaabs. Bless Umme’s soul because I went to the mailbox one morning and got the beloved yellow slip saying ‘you have a box’ so I went literally POSTAL (no pun intended, yeah right) wondering if it was from Umme or my Aunt – my aunt always sends me tons and tons of hair products which I can’t get enough of. “Here it is…someone sent you a lot of stuff,” said the Postal Worker and I look up and to my amazement there’s a box as two times wider then me (and trust me, that’s wide) and half my height!!! My eyes open with wonder and shear excitement! I lug the box out to the car and squeeze it into my mom’s Nissan Altima, which thank goodness is a large car, if I would have had my Saab I would have had to tie it to the roof, and flew home as fast as I could. “It’s a box of treasures!!! Ma’ come look!! I can’t believe this!!” I said to my mother, screaming with excitement almost tearing up because I couldn’t believe a person could ever be this generous. This was my second encounter of the love and sincerity of Islam (of course Maryam).
The box contained treasures. Dresses, Hijaabs, Books, Pamplets, Qur’an, Pocket sized Qur’an, tapes, and the most beloved and used present of all “The Beginner’s Guide to Prayer”. I still have this pamphlet now and it’s falling apart – I still have to use it on the last part of my prayer (where you’re sitting) because I don’t know all of it yet. I have never used a book so much in my life.
I took out the hijaabs and the dresses and I wore my favorite outfit of all.
Now comes the story of hijaab; the best benefit Allah has given to us women. To start the story off correctly I should explain how my mother reacted to me being a Muslim. She at first didn’t understand what exactly it was. Luckily I had Maryam to help me out on this one as well. Her mother, is a revert and she had to go through the same thing I was going through (telling her family) and she was nice enough to send my mother an e-mail explaining and trying to help. She helped a lot; mom was a bit more relaxed. It took about a week for her to warm up to Islam; to this day she still asks questions and I couldn’t be more happy to answer them.
Onto hijaab story! The first day I went out in hijaab was in my new drabs (above) and could not feel more proud. There are not enough words in the English, French, and German dictionaries to explain the way I felt. Since this was about almost 2 months after 9\11 everyone was still on shaky ground about Muslims. I thought, living in the sticks of Maine, that everyone would be so mean to me because a lot of people here 99.99% of them are Christian and about 50% are racist. I was wrong; I totally underestimated my own people. People were looking at me (of course) but not in a negative way. I thought the hijaab was going to be a total mess (the first time I heard of it) but today it is the best blessing Allah has given to us. The benefits [to list] would take me years, if not centuries. The most important of all is the modesty in front of men. I always, since I began to become a woman, have felt like a sirloin steak being picked over by men every day! The only time when I feel safe and secure is in my Islamic Dress…that consists of hijaab (covering hair, neck and ears) and loose fitting clothes. Until this day, anytime which I go out without hijaab (which, alhumdulilah has been few) I feel like I am completely naked! The hijaab, for women, is the best thing possible. I would also like to point out [to the non-Muslims] this important fact! In the ‘Muslim’ countries (Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan, etc.) where 99.99% of the women cover, the rate of rape and sexual assault are so low they barely exist. This is a fact – (NOTE: Get the statistics from the sisters!)- Not just a rumor.
The rest of my story is incredibly amazing. I have been living the Muslim life, alhumdulilah, and I have been trying to do my best. I have since stopped a lot of haraam (sinful) actions and continue to work on getting rid of the rest. The last part of my story is the most amazing part. I would never guess this would ever happen. My father, who I said earlier has no religion, started to see the change Islam had on my life (for the positive) and he took note of this. I was on the telephone with him one night and he asked me to send him some information on what Islam consists of. When I heard this I said to myself, “This is the pure actions of Allah; no one, or thing, could have possibly done such an act of pure grace.” This is Islam in brief, and this is Islam and me.
Thank you (Salaams),
Author’s note: I would like to dedicate This to Maryam Ezzedine, Umme Zahid, And Allah.
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 85-85:
85. إِنَّ الَّذِي فَرَضَ عَلَيْكَ الْقُرْآنَ لَرَادُّكَ إِلَى مَعَادٍ قُلْ رَبِّي أَعْلَمُ مَنْ جَاءَ بِالْهُدَى وَمَنْ هُوَ فِي ضَلالٍ مُبِينٍ
Sura 28 - Al-Qasas [The Story, Stories] Verse 85-85:
85. Verily He Who ordained the Qur'an for thee, will bring thee back to the Place of Return. Say: "My Lord knows best who it is that brings true guidance, and who is in manifest error."
Impressed By Islamic Prayer - A Filipina Finds Her Way Home
Impressed By Islamic Prayer - A Filipina Finds Her Way Home
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.
By Melissa Perez
I was born into a very traditional Catholic family that observes and practices all kinds of innovations that are not even related to the real teachings of the Bible. All of my family, from my great grandparents to the youngest grandchildren, are all Catholic and most of my friends and neighbors were also Catholic.
We would observe all kinds of Catholic traditions and customs, such as the fiestas (celebration of saints' birthdays), Christmas, Holy Week, processions of saints, Sunday Mass, the rosary, and so on. Actually, all of these practices were a part of our life.
Although some of my family believe in one God, this "One God" is sometimes called Jesus, and at other times, the Father. This was a bit confusing for me.
In my opinion, the Catholic way of life is not really strict, although there are many clear laws found in the Bible that we should follow and practice. Despite this, I didn't feel much pressure to follow those rules because we were taught that God can forgive all sins the moment you repent sincerely to Him. This idea is similar to the teachings of Islam, but the difference is that, in Islam, everyone will be accountable and responsible for their own sins; whereas in Christianity, Jesus has already paid for everyone's sins.
I grew up knowing no other religion but Christianity. Neither my parents nor any of my family members knew anything about Islam as no one would teach us about it. We never heard anything good about it. I remember when I was young and my mother would inform us that Muslims were murderers and that when Muslims get angry, they will behead anyone around them. This is all we knew about Muslims.
In the Philippines, where I grew up, one rarely sees Muslims mingling with Christians, and Christians don't usually have Muslim neighbors or friends. Muslims and Christians do not associate with others, and that's why they have their own communities. Until now, the Muslims have been fighting with the Philippine government to allocate them a part of the country so they can have their own independent government.
If I were still living in the Philippines, I think it would be quite impossible to be interested in learning about Islam. However, I know the true message of Islam and who Muslims really are. I am glad to be Muslim, al-hamdu lillah.
My Youth
At a young age I learned to be independent. I experienced many difficulties in my life. My parents were separated when I was young, and we were forced to live with our relatives in their house. Those days were among the most difficult days in my entire life. Suddenly, at that time, I felt that all of the responsibilities had been laid on my shoulders.
Although I had to face all these hardships, there was no one around with whom I could talk, so I only could call upon God for help.
At the age of 18, I started working abroad with my mother in the hope of fulfilling our dreams of owning our own house in the Philippines. With God's blessing and the help of my mother and brother, I was able to buy a house at the age of 23.
While working abroad, I was exposed to new cultures, traditions, beliefs, and different ways of lives, and I made new friends. Everything was very different from the way I was brought up. I had lots of freedom while abroad, which led me to commit sins for which I ask Allah the Almighty God to forgive me.
The Need to Settle Down
At the age of 29 I wanted to settle down. I felt that I had done so much in my life and that it was time to start my own family. I met my husband through the Internet, and we talked together only for about two months. I then traveled to Egypt to see whether he was serious or not, and, al-hamdu lillah, we got married there.
In the beginning I was in a quandary because he was a Muslim and I was a Christian. How could I deal with such a situation? He assured me that religion and belief would not come into our relationship and that in Islam, a Muslim man is allowed to marry a Christian woman. I also wondered how I could explain to my family that suddenly I was going to get married to a Muslim man whom I had known for only two months.
Anyway, I am the kind of person that, when I want to do something, no person or thing can get in my way; I will always stand by what I want through thick and thin. At the back of my mind I have always held the belief that God is there to help and guide me, and I don't need anyone else except God to guide me to the right way.
While I was on the plane to Egypt, I asked for God's guidance to decide the affair for me about my future husband and, al-hamdu lillah, God was so kind in listening to my prayers. We got married in Egypt, and then my husband moved with me to Hong Kong. In the beginning he had a culture shock from seeing some practices of the local cultures and customs, which he had never seen while living in Egypt. In any case, I did not blame him for having these feelings because it was his first time to be away from his homeland.
Because I used to regularly attend Sunday Mass, I invited my husband to come along with me to attend the prayers, which he did not mind doing and in fact he came with me to church services.
God Decided to Guide Both of Us
One day my husband decided to renew his faith, to study Islam, and to start practicing it. Suddenly he started to observe prayers, fasting, etc. For me, it was the first chance that I had to observe the way Muslims worship God. My husband started learning and reading more about Islam. During the course of his studies, he started to preach Islam to me.
At first I was hesitant because I loved Jesus very much, but when I learned that Muslims also love Jesus, I started to learn with my husband and gain more knowledge about the teachings of Islam.
What touched me most was the Islamic prayers, especially during the prostration. I told myself that this was the right way to pray — kneeling and bowing down before God. God was worthy of being praised like this.
In my heart I wanted to try to pray in the same position, but I had not yet made my declaration of faith because, in my heart, I was still not 100 percent clear about what I was getting myself into.
While my husband and I were in the Philippines, I asked him whether it was possible to pray with him in the Islamic way without having to be a Muslim. I tried performing the Islamic prayers several times and I liked it. However, at that time, I wasn't sure if I was ready to perform the five daily prayers or adhere to other obligations, such as wearing the hijab. In addition, I didn't know very much about the Prophet Muhammad.
My husband told me, "You could learn gradually. You do not need to know everything in one day; you do not have to wear hijab until you want to know the wisdom behind it and when you are totally ready to do anything that God ordered you to do."
Many times my husband told me to declare my testimony of faith that God is one and that Muhammad is His Messenger. H told me that I had to make this decision without compulsion or force but that I also shouldn't delay because I didn't know if I would be alive tomorrow or not.
My Shahadah
Anyway, one day we were listening to one Islamic lecture called "The Purpose of Life" by Sheikh Khalid Yasin. While I was listening, one part of the lecture caught my attention when Sheikh Yasin said, "Why can't you declare that God is one and Muhammad is His Messenger? Are you arrogant?"
After hearing those words, my heart was wide open and I decided not to be arrogant. By at the end of this tape I had declared my Shahadah. Al-hamdu lillah, I was able to say, "Ashhadu an la illaha illa Allah, wa ashhadu ana Muhammad rasulullah." A few minutes later, I declared my faith before my husband, who was my first witness after God Almighty.
Until this day, I am trying to learn about and understand Islam. There is no end to the learning process. A saying goes "Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave." Every day in our lives we need to learn by reading and through experience.
Shortly after embracing Islam, I read a book entitled The Bible Led Me to Islam by Abdul Malik LeBlanc. This book inspired me and opened my mind and made me aware God is really One and Unique in His attributes and that Jesus is one of the messengers and prophets of God.
Also, I read another booklet called The Gift of Muhammad. It was a very touching booklet that contained some of Prophet Muhammad's sayings. It introduced me for my first time to the teachings of this great prophet. I remember one of the sayings that touched me a lot, when God says "If you come to Me walking, I come to you running" (Bukhari). Amazing.
Hijab
It took me some time to decide to wear hijab. It was not easy for me to dress the way the Muslims do because I had been living for about 30 years as a non-Muslim and had dressed in an immodest style. All of the people who knew me were used to seeing me in "very attractive clothes," and so I always thought of what they would say if they saw me wearing hijab. Yet I asked myself what was more important to me — people or God. The answer was God, He Who had given me more than what I asked for. I told myself that if wearing the hijab is really what pleases God, then I would do it without hesitation.
Performing Hajj
A few months after I had said my Shahadah, God continued to bestow His mercy and kindness upon me. God was merciful by allowing me to visit Makkah and to perform the Hajj. This amazing experience increased my faith in Islam, and I felt that I was really on the right track. I cannot describe how wonderful I felt when I entered, for the first time, the Sacred Mosque in Makkah and saw the Ka`bah. Tears of happiness filled my eyes and I was entered into a completely real peace within myself and with people around me.
After Embracing Islam
After becoming a Muslim I began to be more aware of what I was doing in life. Now I feel that God is always present, watching over me in everything that I do. I have found the inner peace that I was looking for, and I know what the purpose of this life is and what lies ahead in the hereafter.
I am trying to strive to follow Allah's commandments to have a place in Jannah (Paradise), in sha' Allah. Until this day, I continue to learn about the Islamic rules and obligations, which one day, in sha' Allah, I hope I will perfectly follow.
My Family's Reaction
My mother didn't really get mad at me, al-hamdu lillah. In fact my conversion made her think more deeply about Islam and she gave away all her images of Jesus, Mary, and the cross and decided not to worship them anymore. Although she hasn't taken her Shahadah yet, I hope one day that Allah the Almighty God will open her heart to Islam. Ameen.
Al-hamdu lillah, I've witnessed many other people who have decided to embrace Islam, especially in Hong Kong. One of our friends even took her Shahadah in our house, al-hamdu lillah.
Thank you for reading my story, and may Allah, the Almighty God always show us the right path. 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.
By Melissa Perez
I was born into a very traditional Catholic family that observes and practices all kinds of innovations that are not even related to the real teachings of the Bible. All of my family, from my great grandparents to the youngest grandchildren, are all Catholic and most of my friends and neighbors were also Catholic.
We would observe all kinds of Catholic traditions and customs, such as the fiestas (celebration of saints' birthdays), Christmas, Holy Week, processions of saints, Sunday Mass, the rosary, and so on. Actually, all of these practices were a part of our life.
Although some of my family believe in one God, this "One God" is sometimes called Jesus, and at other times, the Father. This was a bit confusing for me.
In my opinion, the Catholic way of life is not really strict, although there are many clear laws found in the Bible that we should follow and practice. Despite this, I didn't feel much pressure to follow those rules because we were taught that God can forgive all sins the moment you repent sincerely to Him. This idea is similar to the teachings of Islam, but the difference is that, in Islam, everyone will be accountable and responsible for their own sins; whereas in Christianity, Jesus has already paid for everyone's sins.
I grew up knowing no other religion but Christianity. Neither my parents nor any of my family members knew anything about Islam as no one would teach us about it. We never heard anything good about it. I remember when I was young and my mother would inform us that Muslims were murderers and that when Muslims get angry, they will behead anyone around them. This is all we knew about Muslims.
In the Philippines, where I grew up, one rarely sees Muslims mingling with Christians, and Christians don't usually have Muslim neighbors or friends. Muslims and Christians do not associate with others, and that's why they have their own communities. Until now, the Muslims have been fighting with the Philippine government to allocate them a part of the country so they can have their own independent government.
If I were still living in the Philippines, I think it would be quite impossible to be interested in learning about Islam. However, I know the true message of Islam and who Muslims really are. I am glad to be Muslim, al-hamdu lillah.
My Youth
At a young age I learned to be independent. I experienced many difficulties in my life. My parents were separated when I was young, and we were forced to live with our relatives in their house. Those days were among the most difficult days in my entire life. Suddenly, at that time, I felt that all of the responsibilities had been laid on my shoulders.
Although I had to face all these hardships, there was no one around with whom I could talk, so I only could call upon God for help.
At the age of 18, I started working abroad with my mother in the hope of fulfilling our dreams of owning our own house in the Philippines. With God's blessing and the help of my mother and brother, I was able to buy a house at the age of 23.
While working abroad, I was exposed to new cultures, traditions, beliefs, and different ways of lives, and I made new friends. Everything was very different from the way I was brought up. I had lots of freedom while abroad, which led me to commit sins for which I ask Allah the Almighty God to forgive me.
The Need to Settle Down
At the age of 29 I wanted to settle down. I felt that I had done so much in my life and that it was time to start my own family. I met my husband through the Internet, and we talked together only for about two months. I then traveled to Egypt to see whether he was serious or not, and, al-hamdu lillah, we got married there.
In the beginning I was in a quandary because he was a Muslim and I was a Christian. How could I deal with such a situation? He assured me that religion and belief would not come into our relationship and that in Islam, a Muslim man is allowed to marry a Christian woman. I also wondered how I could explain to my family that suddenly I was going to get married to a Muslim man whom I had known for only two months.
Anyway, I am the kind of person that, when I want to do something, no person or thing can get in my way; I will always stand by what I want through thick and thin. At the back of my mind I have always held the belief that God is there to help and guide me, and I don't need anyone else except God to guide me to the right way.
While I was on the plane to Egypt, I asked for God's guidance to decide the affair for me about my future husband and, al-hamdu lillah, God was so kind in listening to my prayers. We got married in Egypt, and then my husband moved with me to Hong Kong. In the beginning he had a culture shock from seeing some practices of the local cultures and customs, which he had never seen while living in Egypt. In any case, I did not blame him for having these feelings because it was his first time to be away from his homeland.
Because I used to regularly attend Sunday Mass, I invited my husband to come along with me to attend the prayers, which he did not mind doing and in fact he came with me to church services.
God Decided to Guide Both of Us
One day my husband decided to renew his faith, to study Islam, and to start practicing it. Suddenly he started to observe prayers, fasting, etc. For me, it was the first chance that I had to observe the way Muslims worship God. My husband started learning and reading more about Islam. During the course of his studies, he started to preach Islam to me.
At first I was hesitant because I loved Jesus very much, but when I learned that Muslims also love Jesus, I started to learn with my husband and gain more knowledge about the teachings of Islam.
What touched me most was the Islamic prayers, especially during the prostration. I told myself that this was the right way to pray — kneeling and bowing down before God. God was worthy of being praised like this.
In my heart I wanted to try to pray in the same position, but I had not yet made my declaration of faith because, in my heart, I was still not 100 percent clear about what I was getting myself into.
While my husband and I were in the Philippines, I asked him whether it was possible to pray with him in the Islamic way without having to be a Muslim. I tried performing the Islamic prayers several times and I liked it. However, at that time, I wasn't sure if I was ready to perform the five daily prayers or adhere to other obligations, such as wearing the hijab. In addition, I didn't know very much about the Prophet Muhammad.
My husband told me, "You could learn gradually. You do not need to know everything in one day; you do not have to wear hijab until you want to know the wisdom behind it and when you are totally ready to do anything that God ordered you to do."
Many times my husband told me to declare my testimony of faith that God is one and that Muhammad is His Messenger. H told me that I had to make this decision without compulsion or force but that I also shouldn't delay because I didn't know if I would be alive tomorrow or not.
My Shahadah
Anyway, one day we were listening to one Islamic lecture called "The Purpose of Life" by Sheikh Khalid Yasin. While I was listening, one part of the lecture caught my attention when Sheikh Yasin said, "Why can't you declare that God is one and Muhammad is His Messenger? Are you arrogant?"
After hearing those words, my heart was wide open and I decided not to be arrogant. By at the end of this tape I had declared my Shahadah. Al-hamdu lillah, I was able to say, "Ashhadu an la illaha illa Allah, wa ashhadu ana Muhammad rasulullah." A few minutes later, I declared my faith before my husband, who was my first witness after God Almighty.
Until this day, I am trying to learn about and understand Islam. There is no end to the learning process. A saying goes "Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave." Every day in our lives we need to learn by reading and through experience.
Shortly after embracing Islam, I read a book entitled The Bible Led Me to Islam by Abdul Malik LeBlanc. This book inspired me and opened my mind and made me aware God is really One and Unique in His attributes and that Jesus is one of the messengers and prophets of God.
Also, I read another booklet called The Gift of Muhammad. It was a very touching booklet that contained some of Prophet Muhammad's sayings. It introduced me for my first time to the teachings of this great prophet. I remember one of the sayings that touched me a lot, when God says "If you come to Me walking, I come to you running" (Bukhari). Amazing.
Hijab
It took me some time to decide to wear hijab. It was not easy for me to dress the way the Muslims do because I had been living for about 30 years as a non-Muslim and had dressed in an immodest style. All of the people who knew me were used to seeing me in "very attractive clothes," and so I always thought of what they would say if they saw me wearing hijab. Yet I asked myself what was more important to me — people or God. The answer was God, He Who had given me more than what I asked for. I told myself that if wearing the hijab is really what pleases God, then I would do it without hesitation.
Performing Hajj
A few months after I had said my Shahadah, God continued to bestow His mercy and kindness upon me. God was merciful by allowing me to visit Makkah and to perform the Hajj. This amazing experience increased my faith in Islam, and I felt that I was really on the right track. I cannot describe how wonderful I felt when I entered, for the first time, the Sacred Mosque in Makkah and saw the Ka`bah. Tears of happiness filled my eyes and I was entered into a completely real peace within myself and with people around me.
After Embracing Islam
After becoming a Muslim I began to be more aware of what I was doing in life. Now I feel that God is always present, watching over me in everything that I do. I have found the inner peace that I was looking for, and I know what the purpose of this life is and what lies ahead in the hereafter.
I am trying to strive to follow Allah's commandments to have a place in Jannah (Paradise), in sha' Allah. Until this day, I continue to learn about the Islamic rules and obligations, which one day, in sha' Allah, I hope I will perfectly follow.
My Family's Reaction
My mother didn't really get mad at me, al-hamdu lillah. In fact my conversion made her think more deeply about Islam and she gave away all her images of Jesus, Mary, and the cross and decided not to worship them anymore. Although she hasn't taken her Shahadah yet, I hope one day that Allah the Almighty God will open her heart to Islam. Ameen.
Al-hamdu lillah, I've witnessed many other people who have decided to embrace Islam, especially in Hong Kong. One of our friends even took her Shahadah in our house, al-hamdu lillah.
Thank you for reading my story, and may Allah, the Almighty God always show us the right path. Ameen.
Ibrahim
Ibrahim
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 time comes in everyone’s life, or at least I hope it comes, when they realize that they have to not only believe what they believe in, whatever it may be, but get out there and proclaim it to the world. Luckily, that time came early for me. I am 17, and Islam is the belief that I’m proclaiming.
I was raised Catholic. Not internally as much as externally. I went to Catholic Sunday school, called CCD, but the Catholic view of God never played a major roll in my childhood. It was a Sunday thing. Anyhow, I started to enjoy Mass around 7th grade. It made me feel good to do the right thing. I was always a rather moral person, but I never really studied the fundamentals of Catholicism. I just knew that I felt good worshipping my creator.
I really liked Catholicism, but I always saw it as us (the Catholics) with Jesus worshipping God, not us worshipping God and Jesus as one. I saw Jesus (peace be upon him) as my example on how to be a good follower of and submitter to God’s will, but not as God himself.
Before I was confirmed in 8th grade, in the fall of 1999, I learned a lot about what Catholicism was. The Catholicism of the Church had a lot on viewing Jesus as God in it. Nothing like my “undivided God being worshipped by me with Jesus as an example” train of thought. It was like they just opened up a can of cold, illogical confusion and tried to feed it to me. It didn’t feel right.
I continued with the Catholic church, and kept on worshipping. But I talked to many in the church about my feelings that Jesus wasn’t God but more of a Prophet, an example. They told me that I had to accept him as God and as a sacrifice, and so on. I just wasn’t buying it. I tried to buy it but I guess God withhold the sale for my own benefit. There was a better car out there for me. I continued at the church.
Sometime in mid-December of 1999, for no reason that I can recall I started reading up on Islam in encyclopedias. I remember making a list of bolded words in the entry for “Islam” in an old 1964 Grolier World Book that I found in my closet, and studying them. For some reason I was amazed by this faith and that it was all about God and that it was everything that I believed all my life - right here. Previously, I had accepted that there was no faith like I felt inside of me. But I was amazed that I had found this faith. I found out that “my” faith had a name, and millions of other adherents!
Without ever reading a Qur’an or talking to another Muslim, I said shahada (declaring your belief in no god but God) on 31 December 1999. As the months passed, I learned more. I went through many periods of confusion, happiness, doubt and amazement. Islam took me on an enlightening tour of me, everyone else, and God.
The transition was slow. I was still attending Mass five months into my change of faith. Each time I went, I felt more and more distant from the congregation, but closer and closer to Prophet Jesus and God.
During Ramadan 2001, the second time I fasted (the first year, I converted during Ramadan and did not fast), I went to the library during lunch period. It was better than sitting at a table with my friends, because I got work done in the library. I swear my grades went up. I started talking to the only other Muslim at my school, John. We talked about Islam a little more each day. He’s an awesome brother and he took me to the mosque on the last Friday of Ramadan. Going was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. God really answered my prayers this time. I thought I would be nervous, but I wasn’t at all. It was the most natural thing I ever did in my life. I felt home. I realized something before leaving. As I sat there on the floor, praying to God, I realized that the room was full of others but it was OK. See, at home when someone asks me what I am doing, I never say I am praying. I never admit it to anyone. It is too awkward. But there, at the masjid, I was praying to God in front of a score of other Muslims and I felt perfectly fine. Better than fine! I felt natural and safe. It was the most liberating thing since I accepted God into my heart that cold New Year’s Eve almost two years ago.
I never told my parents right out. In fact, I don’t plan to. The most significant clue that I gave came around 1:00 AM on 16 December 2001, when I finally told my dad I was going to the mosque in the morning with a friend when he asked me why I was setting my alarm. He chewed me out, to say the least. I never told them straight out because I figured it was best to test the waters by revealing clues bit by bit; I didn’t want to send a shockwave through the family. I can only imagine what my dad would do if he knew I was actually a practicing Muslim. I understand that my dad is a depressed man, so I don’t really hold this all against him. I mean, it is his fault for thinking himself so smart that he doesn’t need God. That thought is what got him so depressed. But I don’t think he realized how hard one’s heart can be when you deny your human need for a relationship with your Creator. So I don’t hold it all against him. He didn’t know what he was getting into. My mom doesn’t know that I am a Muslim, but at least she hasn’t shown her anger over me going to the mosque. As God commands, I’ll continue to try my best to be nice to my parents as long as they don’t attempt to take away my Islam. The best thing that I can do for them is to be a good example so that maybe one day, inshallah, they can see that there is a better way of living than living in the dark world of God-denial.
I’ve never been to the Mid-East, but I am studying Islam every day. I read books from every point of view. Sufi, Shia, Sunni, books on the Qur’an alone... The Muslims view sects as haram, so no matter what you believe you are always a Muslim and nothing extra. You may have completely different views than another Muslim, but as long as you both believe that there is no god but God, you are both Muslims and that’s that. I read a lot on-line, and discuss a lot with other Muslims on-line and on the phone. I’ve met some really great people on-line who have taught me a lot about life, Islam and God.
Right now, I am 100% a Muslim and that will never change, inshallah. I thank God that I’ve gone through so many periods of doubt. When I look back I see that it was not God leaving me but God telling me that it was time that I asked myself how much I loved God, and what I was willing to go through to understand my faith. A week of crying, depression, prayer, reading to the extreme, and ignoring most other things in life sounds harsh...but the reward - knowing so much more about yourself, God, and the relationship between you (Islam) - is worth more than any material things. Through my interrogation of Islam I gained God’s most precious gift - Islam, or surrender to the peace. I’ve heard Christians say that with Christianity you “know God on a personal level.” In Islam, your relationship with God is so much deeper than that. God is with me every moment, guiding me, teaching me, loving me, protecting me, liberating me, enlightening me, comforting me... Alhamdulilah for Islam! Islam has done a lot for me. More than I could have ever guessed. And every day, it just gets better. At first it was like Allah was turning on lights where it was dark. Now, He is shining light into places that I never KNEW were dark! It is just total enlightenment and consolation at the same time I feel like I’m getting the warmest, truest hug. I went from living my life on a trial-and-error basis to embracing guidance, and now knowing what the best choices are for me to make. From seeking who I am and spending a life in confusion, I am being guided. I can’t find the words to say what its like, but I’ll try again: God reveals to me what life is. I don’t have to guess anymore.
Sura 93, “The Morning Hours”
By the morning hours
By the night when it is still
Your lord has not abandoned you
and does not hate you
What is after will be better
than what came before
To you the lord will be giving
You will be content
Did he not find you orphaned and give you shelter
Find you lost and guide you
Find you in hunger and provide for you
As for the orphan, do not oppress him
And one who asks, do not turn him away
And the grace of your lord -- proclaim
That is what I went through, what God did for me - what I am. So here is my proclamation to the world. Islam is more than you think it is, in fact more liberal than most would wish it to be. But do not only listen. Study all views for yourself...and come to your own conclusion. God says “let there be no compulsion in religion” because faith in God is a choice made by the heart, and it can’t be forced.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 185-185:
185. شَهْرُ رَمَضَانَ الَّذِي أُنْزِلَ فِيهِ الْقُرْآنُ هُدًى لِلنَّاسِ وَبَيِّنَاتٍ مِنَ الْهُدَى وَالْفُرْقَانِ فَمَنْ شَهِدَ مِنْكُمُ الشَّهْرَ فَلْيَصُمْهُ وَمَنْ كَانَ مَرِيضًا أَوْ عَلَى سَفَرٍ فَعِدَّةٌ مِنْ أَيَّامٍ أُخَرَ يُرِيدُ اللَّهُ بِكُمُ الْيُسْرَ وَلا يُرِيدُ بِكُمُ الْعُسْرَ وَلِتُكْمِلُوا الْعِدَّةَ وَلِتُكَبِّرُوا اللَّهَ عَلَى مَا هَدَاكُمْ وَلَعَلَّكُمْ تَشْكُرُونَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 185-185:
185. Ramadhan is the (month) in which was sent down the Qur'an, as a guide to mankind, also clear (Signs) for guidance and judgment (Between right and wrong). So every one of you who is present (at his home) during that month should spend it in fasting, but if any one is ill, or on a journey, the prescribed period (Should be made up) by days later. Allah intends every facility for you; He does not want to put to difficulties. (He wants you) to complete the prescribed period, and to glorify Him in that He has guided you; and perchance ye shall be grateful.
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 time comes in everyone’s life, or at least I hope it comes, when they realize that they have to not only believe what they believe in, whatever it may be, but get out there and proclaim it to the world. Luckily, that time came early for me. I am 17, and Islam is the belief that I’m proclaiming.
I was raised Catholic. Not internally as much as externally. I went to Catholic Sunday school, called CCD, but the Catholic view of God never played a major roll in my childhood. It was a Sunday thing. Anyhow, I started to enjoy Mass around 7th grade. It made me feel good to do the right thing. I was always a rather moral person, but I never really studied the fundamentals of Catholicism. I just knew that I felt good worshipping my creator.
I really liked Catholicism, but I always saw it as us (the Catholics) with Jesus worshipping God, not us worshipping God and Jesus as one. I saw Jesus (peace be upon him) as my example on how to be a good follower of and submitter to God’s will, but not as God himself.
Before I was confirmed in 8th grade, in the fall of 1999, I learned a lot about what Catholicism was. The Catholicism of the Church had a lot on viewing Jesus as God in it. Nothing like my “undivided God being worshipped by me with Jesus as an example” train of thought. It was like they just opened up a can of cold, illogical confusion and tried to feed it to me. It didn’t feel right.
I continued with the Catholic church, and kept on worshipping. But I talked to many in the church about my feelings that Jesus wasn’t God but more of a Prophet, an example. They told me that I had to accept him as God and as a sacrifice, and so on. I just wasn’t buying it. I tried to buy it but I guess God withhold the sale for my own benefit. There was a better car out there for me. I continued at the church.
Sometime in mid-December of 1999, for no reason that I can recall I started reading up on Islam in encyclopedias. I remember making a list of bolded words in the entry for “Islam” in an old 1964 Grolier World Book that I found in my closet, and studying them. For some reason I was amazed by this faith and that it was all about God and that it was everything that I believed all my life - right here. Previously, I had accepted that there was no faith like I felt inside of me. But I was amazed that I had found this faith. I found out that “my” faith had a name, and millions of other adherents!
Without ever reading a Qur’an or talking to another Muslim, I said shahada (declaring your belief in no god but God) on 31 December 1999. As the months passed, I learned more. I went through many periods of confusion, happiness, doubt and amazement. Islam took me on an enlightening tour of me, everyone else, and God.
The transition was slow. I was still attending Mass five months into my change of faith. Each time I went, I felt more and more distant from the congregation, but closer and closer to Prophet Jesus and God.
During Ramadan 2001, the second time I fasted (the first year, I converted during Ramadan and did not fast), I went to the library during lunch period. It was better than sitting at a table with my friends, because I got work done in the library. I swear my grades went up. I started talking to the only other Muslim at my school, John. We talked about Islam a little more each day. He’s an awesome brother and he took me to the mosque on the last Friday of Ramadan. Going was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. God really answered my prayers this time. I thought I would be nervous, but I wasn’t at all. It was the most natural thing I ever did in my life. I felt home. I realized something before leaving. As I sat there on the floor, praying to God, I realized that the room was full of others but it was OK. See, at home when someone asks me what I am doing, I never say I am praying. I never admit it to anyone. It is too awkward. But there, at the masjid, I was praying to God in front of a score of other Muslims and I felt perfectly fine. Better than fine! I felt natural and safe. It was the most liberating thing since I accepted God into my heart that cold New Year’s Eve almost two years ago.
I never told my parents right out. In fact, I don’t plan to. The most significant clue that I gave came around 1:00 AM on 16 December 2001, when I finally told my dad I was going to the mosque in the morning with a friend when he asked me why I was setting my alarm. He chewed me out, to say the least. I never told them straight out because I figured it was best to test the waters by revealing clues bit by bit; I didn’t want to send a shockwave through the family. I can only imagine what my dad would do if he knew I was actually a practicing Muslim. I understand that my dad is a depressed man, so I don’t really hold this all against him. I mean, it is his fault for thinking himself so smart that he doesn’t need God. That thought is what got him so depressed. But I don’t think he realized how hard one’s heart can be when you deny your human need for a relationship with your Creator. So I don’t hold it all against him. He didn’t know what he was getting into. My mom doesn’t know that I am a Muslim, but at least she hasn’t shown her anger over me going to the mosque. As God commands, I’ll continue to try my best to be nice to my parents as long as they don’t attempt to take away my Islam. The best thing that I can do for them is to be a good example so that maybe one day, inshallah, they can see that there is a better way of living than living in the dark world of God-denial.
I’ve never been to the Mid-East, but I am studying Islam every day. I read books from every point of view. Sufi, Shia, Sunni, books on the Qur’an alone... The Muslims view sects as haram, so no matter what you believe you are always a Muslim and nothing extra. You may have completely different views than another Muslim, but as long as you both believe that there is no god but God, you are both Muslims and that’s that. I read a lot on-line, and discuss a lot with other Muslims on-line and on the phone. I’ve met some really great people on-line who have taught me a lot about life, Islam and God.
Right now, I am 100% a Muslim and that will never change, inshallah. I thank God that I’ve gone through so many periods of doubt. When I look back I see that it was not God leaving me but God telling me that it was time that I asked myself how much I loved God, and what I was willing to go through to understand my faith. A week of crying, depression, prayer, reading to the extreme, and ignoring most other things in life sounds harsh...but the reward - knowing so much more about yourself, God, and the relationship between you (Islam) - is worth more than any material things. Through my interrogation of Islam I gained God’s most precious gift - Islam, or surrender to the peace. I’ve heard Christians say that with Christianity you “know God on a personal level.” In Islam, your relationship with God is so much deeper than that. God is with me every moment, guiding me, teaching me, loving me, protecting me, liberating me, enlightening me, comforting me... Alhamdulilah for Islam! Islam has done a lot for me. More than I could have ever guessed. And every day, it just gets better. At first it was like Allah was turning on lights where it was dark. Now, He is shining light into places that I never KNEW were dark! It is just total enlightenment and consolation at the same time I feel like I’m getting the warmest, truest hug. I went from living my life on a trial-and-error basis to embracing guidance, and now knowing what the best choices are for me to make. From seeking who I am and spending a life in confusion, I am being guided. I can’t find the words to say what its like, but I’ll try again: God reveals to me what life is. I don’t have to guess anymore.
Sura 93, “The Morning Hours”
By the morning hours
By the night when it is still
Your lord has not abandoned you
and does not hate you
What is after will be better
than what came before
To you the lord will be giving
You will be content
Did he not find you orphaned and give you shelter
Find you lost and guide you
Find you in hunger and provide for you
As for the orphan, do not oppress him
And one who asks, do not turn him away
And the grace of your lord -- proclaim
That is what I went through, what God did for me - what I am. So here is my proclamation to the world. Islam is more than you think it is, in fact more liberal than most would wish it to be. But do not only listen. Study all views for yourself...and come to your own conclusion. God says “let there be no compulsion in religion” because faith in God is a choice made by the heart, and it can’t be forced.
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 185-185:
185. شَهْرُ رَمَضَانَ الَّذِي أُنْزِلَ فِيهِ الْقُرْآنُ هُدًى لِلنَّاسِ وَبَيِّنَاتٍ مِنَ الْهُدَى وَالْفُرْقَانِ فَمَنْ شَهِدَ مِنْكُمُ الشَّهْرَ فَلْيَصُمْهُ وَمَنْ كَانَ مَرِيضًا أَوْ عَلَى سَفَرٍ فَعِدَّةٌ مِنْ أَيَّامٍ أُخَرَ يُرِيدُ اللَّهُ بِكُمُ الْيُسْرَ وَلا يُرِيدُ بِكُمُ الْعُسْرَ وَلِتُكْمِلُوا الْعِدَّةَ وَلِتُكَبِّرُوا اللَّهَ عَلَى مَا هَدَاكُمْ وَلَعَلَّكُمْ تَشْكُرُونَ
Sura 2 - Al-Baqara [The Cow] Verse 185-185:
185. Ramadhan is the (month) in which was sent down the Qur'an, as a guide to mankind, also clear (Signs) for guidance and judgment (Between right and wrong). So every one of you who is present (at his home) during that month should spend it in fasting, but if any one is ill, or on a journey, the prescribed period (Should be made up) by days later. Allah intends every facility for you; He does not want to put to difficulties. (He wants you) to complete the prescribed period, and to glorify Him in that He has guided you; and perchance ye shall be grateful.
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