Like so many other unsaved souls out there, Firuza is a Muslim woman who became a victim of circumstances surrounding her birth and environment. She was born into a Muslim background and as such didn't have the opportunity of following the path if any other religion.
This is her story...
“First, I am from a Muslim background. “In school we were taught there was no God. God doesn’t exist… I learnt about God in my family. My grandfather was a Muslim leader, a mullah. He taught us stories of God from the Qur’an.”I had always loved to be a devout woman. This was what made quit school at the age of fifteen for Islamic studies because I thought that was the only path to God. Ten days into my quest, i returned home.
The head of the [school] was a very rude, yelling woman, all covered in black, and I was scared. I didn’t see any godliness.
I re-enrolled in high school, learnt reading and Arabic script, and continued following standard Islamic practices: attending the mosque, praying and fasting during Ramadan. After finishing high school, I decided to study in my country’s capital city.
There, I heard about Jesus for the first time.
A group of Westerners invited me, along with other students, to watch the Jesus film at their apartment. While the cinematography impressed, the video’s message fell flat.
The first impression I had was, "Oh, they make good movies about their prophets. We must make good movies about Mohammed as well. I didn’t know it was all taken from the Bible. I didn’t believe the Bible was real.
That mind set, in fact, was the first barrier to my believing in Jesus. Shortly after viewing the film, I started avoiding the people who had extended the invitation. However, God pursued me.
I heard about Jesus from my roommate in the dormitory. My teacher at the university, she gave me the Bible in three languages… In my working place, I heard about Jesus. They were inviting me home, having coffee, talking about Jesus, Of course, I always avoided those people. I didn’t want to talk to them.
And although i kept the Bibles, i put them away, afraid I would be a sinner if i even touched the books.
While taking a tram to work one day, an old woman approached me, who was standing in the middle of the overfilled car. “No person died for people’s sins, only Jesus Christ did,” the lady told me.
Um-hmm, i thought, plastering a polite smile on my face as i turned away. She’s one of them.
God was kind of chasing me. He was sending all kinds of people: friends, people that I knew, people that I didn’t know, strangers.
Another day, on my way to work, a prayer came to me. I began to cry as i prayed, “God, I only want you. I want to go to paradise. What if…when I go to you, my sins would be heavier than my good deeds?”
This is what Muslims believe —if the points fail to add up, they disappear, “and I will have to go to hell.”
Not long after that experience, I had a dream. I was on the very top of a mountain or hill, a high place, and the sun started rising. I was watching it. It came right above me. Then I reached my hands, and it came, it landed in my hands. And I lowered my hands, and I looked, and the sun became a baby. The sun became a baby.
The dream occupied my thoughts. This must definitely mean something,” I pondered.
To be continued next week...
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