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contd...
From the very beginning, certain things struck a chord
with me and answered doubts I had always had concerning
the religion I was raised in. I had always taken issue
with the idea that God could have offsprings. From my
readings, I recognized this belief as being derived from
pagan sources. Zeus, Odin, and numerous other pagan gods
all had children.
In the case
of Odin, his followers even believed that he had been
hung on a tree, much like Christians believe that Jesus
was hung on a cross. Odinists, the name given to the
followers of this ancient northern European religion,
also believed in a trinity of sorts formed by Odin, his
son Thor, and his consort Freja. It was clear this
innovation of the Christians did not have its basis in
God, but in previous pagan beliefs.
The other
issue that I had always struggled with was the concept
of original sin. The idea that God could be so unjust as
to hold myself and everyone else responsible for the
sins of others who had died thousands of years before me
just seemed so unjust. I had a basic concept of God, and
the idea He could be so unjust to do such a thing just
did not sit well with me.
It always
seemed to me that Christians just didn’t have the answer
to these questions, and if they did, their answers just
reinforced these unjust positions. I looked to Judaism,
but that religion offered more questions than answers as
well. Their attitude towards the prophets (peace be upon
them all) was disgraceful. Their religious texts accused
these greatest of men of the most terrible crimes and I
refused to believe God would pick such men to lead His
people on earth. If Judaism held such beliefs, how could
I look to them for guidance?
It seemed
clear that Islam had all of the answers. It cleared up
the confusion of the lie of the trinity and asserted
Jesus’ true role as a prophet, and not as the son of
God. Islam reveres all of the prophets and recognizes
them for the great people they were. In Islam and the
values it promotes, I saw the answer to my problems and
questions, and the future of mankind. My main issue was
to try implementing Islam in my life.
As I said
before, I was married to a woman who came from the same
background as I did. She didn’t have an easy time
dealing with my interest in this subject, whether it be
Islam or Middle Eastern politics. I knew that the way I
needed to change my life was to start living in a proper
manner, but I knew this was going to cause us serious
issues. It eventually came to the point where I would be
unable to practice my new found religion and stay
married to this woman, so we split up. Before I left
England, I went with a young Lebanese man I had met in
London and said my Shahadah in a mosque there.
When I left
my ex-wife, I was forced to leave England. I would have
loved to stay there because the opportunity to learn
about my new-found religion there would have been great,
but al-hamdu lillah, I was to learn later why God chose
this turn of events for me. I quickly got a job working
for the US government in Alaska.
Of course,
there is not much in the way of a Muslim community in
Alaska, and it is centered in Anchorage and Fairbanks. I
was working hundreds of miles from either of these
cities, so I took the opportunity to continue reading
and searching for information concerning Islam the best
I could, from the Internet and other sources.
I used to
travel, from time to time, to the Washington DC area for
business. I made friends within the Muslim community
there. At this point, I had been thinking about getting
married. I had been divorced for several years and I
knew that one of the main ways for Muslims to fulfill
their deen (religion) is through marriage.
I was a bit
worried about this, being a convert. I knew that many
Muslims came from ethnic backgrounds that would not be
too welcoming of a white American convert marrying their
daughter. This was compounded further because I had
tattoos from my teenage years, and I was very uncertain
that I would find a Muslim woman and her family that
would accept me.
A new friend
of mine said that he knew of a sister who was looking to
get married, so he asked her if it was OK to give me her
number. I tried to call her when I first got home, but
she wasn’t there and I left a message. The next day I
called her back, and we talked for hours. We exchanged
e-mail addresses and for the next three days, we talked
for dozens of hours. We hardly slept those first three
days. I got so little sleep that I found myself falling
asleep at work. We talked about all of the important
things that we would need to know to make a successful
marriage work.
It was clear
from the beginning that we had a lot in common, and that
it all centered around our devotion to our faith and to
God. I had this feeling that she was meant for me. She
was such a good God-fearing Muslim woman and she had so
much she could teach me about the religion. Not only
could she teach me about religion, but she could also
help me with Arabic because she was a native speaker. We
talked on the phone and via e-mail for several months.
Talking and
e-mailing were wonderful, but we both knew that we had
to meet each other face-to-face to see if the connection
we had would still be there. Always keeping God and our
religion in mind, we wanted to make sure we did
everything halal and in the proper manner. We decided,
with the permission of her family, that I would visit
during Ramadan of that year to join the family for
dinner and the breaking of the fast.
I was very
nervous, and I think I had a right to be. There is one
bit of information I have left out here and after I say
this, you will understand my nerves. My wife and her
family are from Saudi Arabia; both of her parents were
born in Makkah. My earlier fear of the cultural issues
that any prospective wife and her family might have with
me were compounded 100 percent by this fact.
Trusting in
God, and having a lump in my throat, I set off to meet
this wonderful woman and what I supposed to be her
intimidating family. I arrived in Washington DC right
before sundown, collected my bags, and waited for a
taxi. When it was my turn for a taxi, I jumped in. The
taxi driver was wearing a red and white checkered gutra,
or Arab headdress. I greeted him with “as-salamu `alaykum”
and he returned the greeting. The sun had gone down and
he was just breaking his fast with a date. He asked if I
was fasting, and when I replied in the positive, he
offered me one of his own dates to break my fast. It
turned out this nice older gentleman was originally from
Afghanistan, I saw this as a very positive sign.
After
dropping off my luggage at my hotel, I proceeded to the
family’s house with a traditional gift of dates and
incense in hand. As I got out of the taxi and started
walking up to the door, I just said “bismillah” to
myself and knew God would choose the best for me. All
sorts of scenarios played through my mind. She would
like me, but the family would hate me. The family
wouldn’t mind, but she would be indifferent. What if
they liked me and I didn’t like them? The 20-foot walk
from the curb to the door seemed to me like 20 miles.
Finally, I got to the door and rang the bell.
What seemed
to be a dozen people answered the door: family elders,
people my age, sisters, sons, daughters, and family
friends. I was warmly welcomed and asked to come into
the house. After I entered, I was asked to take off my
shoes and join the family in the meal they had made for
me. It turned out, al-hamdu lillah, that I need not have
been worried. The family and I took to each other
instantly. In talking during the dinner and after, it
was clear that the nice young woman and I had a
connection that transcended the miles and the phone
line.
I came back
to the Washington DC area that January, when we got
married in front of friends and family. We took a nice
honeymoon, and then I had to return to my work in
Alaska, which was not to finish until the end of April.
When it finished, I moved to the Washington DC area and
took up a job with a division of my company. I have been
here almost two years now.
It is
amazing, subhan Allah, how God led me from disbelief in
a home filled with hate and then guided me to Him. At
first glance, it might seem that in my childhood house I
couldn’t have been farther from Allah, but I would argue
that this wasn’t the case. Allah was always there
looking out for me; He directed me through some
dangerous and bad times to become the man and the Muslim
that I am today.
People say that miracles do not happen today, but I
would contend that my story proves them wrong.
* (Source
www.islamonline.com: This story first appeared on
www.welcome-back.org. It is republished with kind
permission.)
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