How
We Came To Embrace Islam
American, Khadija Evans,
who experimented with umpteen Christian denominations, atheism and even
Wicca tells how her post-September 11 investigations of Islam led first
herself then her husband to their final spiritual home.
My name is Khadija Evans and
this is the story of how my husband and I came to embrace Islam.
I can remember standing in the
kitchen of the house I lived in when I was just 7 or 8 years old and looking
towards the door that went outside. I prayed to a god whom I wasn't sure
existed and I begged Him to show himself to me if He was really there.
Nothing happened.
I can remember being 9 or 10
years old and writing a letter to God and hiding it in the heat register in
my bedroom, thinking that God, if He existed, would come and retrieve it and
answer my prayers. But the next day, the letter was still there.
I had always had a hard time
accepting the existence of God, and of understanding the beliefs taught in
Christian churches. Even though my parents weren't very religious, and
rarely went to church, they thought it was best that my two brothers and I
go. We were allowed to choose our religion when we very young. I think I was
about 6 or 7, and my brothers were 1 and 2 years older then I. I chose a
Methodist church for no other reason then it was a few blocks away from our
house, and my brother's chose a Lutheran church because it was also close,
and I hadn't chosen it.
I went to the church until I
was 13 years old. I was baptized and confirmed there when I was 11. I went
along with the baptism and confirmation because all children who were 11
received confirmation, and if they hadn't already been baptized, that was
done at the same time. Even then I knew that doubts I had about God and
Christian teachings were things best kept to myself.
When I was 13 my family moved
to another town with no churches within walking distance, and my parents
weren't eager to get up early and drive us kids to church, and so our
religious training stopped until I was 15 and my mom suddenly found
religion. She began attending an Assembly of God church, occasionally
dragging my dad along. I went willingly. I had already begun a search for
God that wouldn't end until I was 42 years old.
I remember being "born again".
Caught up in the fervor of the hell and damnation that the minister preached
at the Assembly of God church. I became "high on religion" thinking I had
finally found "Him." Little did I know, but the high would be short lived,
as I again began to have doubts and unanswered questions.
When I was 17 I met the
daughter of an assistant Baptist minister and began going to their church.
My dad from the time I was at least 6 years old had sexually abused me and I
told the assistant minister about it. He arranged with my parents to let me
live with him and his family in a type of "private foster care." My dad paid
him $100 a week. My parents also attended the church for a brief time, until
the minister announced from the pulpit that my dad was a child molester.
Before that day though, my mom, dad and I were each baptized at the church.
One day after spending the day
with my parents I returned to my foster home only to find the house empty.
Cleaned out. Not a stick of furniture. We found out that the minister had
been caught embezzling from the church and he and his family had left town
in a hurry. I returned to my parent’s home and the abuse.
As a result of what that
minister had done, what little belief I had in God was totally lost and I
became an atheist. For the next 25 years I would fluctuate between
believing, Agnosticism, and Atheism.
When I was 26 I went to 3
months of Rights of Initiation for Catholic Adults and then was baptized and
confirmed in the Roman Catholic Church. I had been allowed to by-pass the
full year of classes because I hadn't called the church to inquire about
converting until 3 months before the Easter Vigil Mass when confirmation for
adults was held.
I had entered the Catholic
religion with the same philosophy that I had once heard Alcoholics Anonymous
has, "Bring your body, your mind will follow." I didn't really believe in
God, or in the core teachings of the Catholic Church, but I wanted so badly
to believe in a power higher then myself, that I went faithfully to Mass 7
days a week, hoping that somehow I would start to believe. But after several
months, I began to realize that it wasn't going to happen, and my Mass
attendance became a once a week thing, then once a month, until when I was
30 and met the man who today is my husband and who wasn't Catholic, and I
stopped attending Mass altogether.
I had never told anyone before
my husband that I didn't believe in God. I don't think he took me seriously
at first. I don't think he had ever known an Atheist. And he couldn't
understand why I would have been going to church if I didn't believe in God.
My husband is 29 years older
then I. We've had a wonderful marriage for these last 10 years. When we
first met, I still desperately wanted to believe, and kept making him
promise me, "When you get to Heaven" he would ask God to give me the
strength to believe, and if at all possible, he would give me a sign, one
that I couldn't chalk up to my imagination, so I would know there really was
a god. He always promised me he would.
We were living in rural
Alabama when I was 32 years old. I developed ulcerations on both corneas and
when they healed, I was legally blind. Because of damage from infection that
had been done to the tissue that donated corneas would have to adhere to, I
couldn't find an eye surgeon who believed that transplanted corneas wouldn't
be rejected.
I was still searching for God.
I was searching for hope of something better then what this world had to
offer. Some kind of evidence of the chance for existence after death. Some
way to achieve it.
As a teenager I had watched
Pat Robertson on the 700 Club, and as a young adult I listened faithfully to
televangelist Rev. Jimmy Swaggert. In my 30's I watched programs on the
Trinity Broadcasting Network. All the while hoping that one of the ministers
would say something that would click in my mind, and I would finally know,
"Yes, there really is a god!" None of them ever said anything that caused
that connection to happen, though many said things that confused me even
more.
During the first 10 years
after I became legally blind, I tried attending different churches, Baptist
again, Assembly of God again, non-Denominational, Church of God, Mormon, and
even studied up on Wicca. But I always lost interest after just a few
months. Things the religions taught just didn't add up. There were just too
many things left to faith. Things that had no proof other then one's faith.
I couldn't believe something when the only proof was some words in a book
that in large part didn't make sense.
I remember one night when I
was about 35 years old, lying in bed and praying to God, whom I still wasn't
sure existed, and asking Him that if He did exist to lead me to someone who
could help me to believe. But I found no one.
At age 36 I acquired a Braille
Bible and started reading it, once again hoping to find proof of God's
existence. But with the Bible being so hard to understand, with so much of
it not really being explainable, I lost interest after reading just a few of
its books. At about that time, although still wanting to find God, I gave up
my search. I had become completely disillusioned with religion.
On September 11, 2001 I was
sitting at my computer. It was before 9 a.m. and as usual the television,
which was sitting to my right, was turned on for background noise. I heard
the sound that is made to notify viewers of an important news announcement.
I stopped and turned towards the TV. A reporter began talking and one of the
towers of the World Trade Center showed in the background. He said an
accident had happened. A small plane had hit one of the towers of the World
Trade Center. I'm legally blind, but I could see well enough to know that it
wasn't a small plane that had hit the tower. The hole was massive. And I
didn't think it was possible to accidentally hit something so big.
As I watched, another plane
flew into the other tower. I couldn't see the plane itself, it was too small
for me to see even during the instant replays with my face practically
pressed up against the screen, but I saw the fireball that exploded away
from the building.
I jumped up and ran into the
bedroom and told my husband to hurry and get up because terrorists were
flying planes into the World Trade Center buildings! He immediately got out
of bed and came in to the living room and sat in his recliner and began to
watch. It was about 9 a.m.
As time went by it was
announced that a plane had been flown into the Pentagon and another hijacked
plane had crashed in Pennsylvania. I wondered when it would end? And what in
the world was going on???
At one point the reporter said
it looked like "debris" was falling from the buildings. My husband said it
was people jumping. Something he has never been able to forget. I was
grateful that my vision was too bad for me to be able to make out what even
looked like "debris."
The reporter said a part of
the first tower had fallen away from the building. He spoke in a kind of
hesitant voice. Now I wonder if he was unsure of what he was seeing. Because
we later found out that a part of the building hadn't fallen away. The
building had completely collapsed.
A female reporter was crying
and a male reporter hugged her. I was crying too. And my husband hugged me.
For weeks afterward I would
start crying for no apparent reason. I'd be riding on the bus and have to
turn my head towards the window and pretend I was looking out so that other
riders wouldn't see the tears escaping my eyes.
When we were in a restaurant,
I'd have to use my napkin to dab the tears welling up in my eyes before the
other diners noticed and wondered if I was some kind of a nut.
I was Christian then and I
cared. And I was devastated. I couldn't understand how a religion could
promote such violence, as the media was saying Islam did. It made no sense
to me. So I decided to find out for myself. One way or another I wanted to
know the truth.
Because of my partial
blindness I was limited to information from the Internet. Finding books
about Islam in Braille or ink print that was large enough for me to read was
impossible. I was able to use a computer because I had magnification
software installed so I could enlarge the font on the screen to a size that
I could read.
I did searches and I began to
read about Islam. I went to web sites that taught the basics of Islam, and I
joined Muslim women's e-groups where I was able to ask and get answers that
I confirmed through further research.
I've always been a sceptic.
It's always been hard for me to believe something that I didn't understand.
I was never one to believe something simply because someone said it was so.
I had to know it in my mind as well as in my heart.
While studying Islam I learned
that the God Muslims worship is the same God as that of Christians and Jews.
The God of Abraham and Moses. I found that Islam doesn't promote or condone
hatred of non-Muslims, nor does it condone the killing of innocent people.
By studying Islam I found the
answers that the media wasn't telling us and I came to know that Islam is
the True Religion. Alhumdulilah! I read a lot of convincing evidence, but
the things that proved to me that there is a god, and that Islam is the True
Religion and that that the Qu'ran is the Word of God, were those in the
Qu'ran itself. The things that are of a scientific nature. Things that have
been discovered by scientists only in the last 100 years. The only one who
could have known those things 1400 years ago was God.
For example, one day I was at
a web site that was about some of the scientific proofs in the Qur'an. One
of the verses in the Qur'an tells about the death of our own solar system.
Al-Rahman 37-38 "When the sky
is torn apart, so it was (like) a red rose like ointment. Then which of the
favors of your lord will you deny?"
There was a link that went to
the NASA web site.
http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/ap991031.html
When I clicked the link I had
no idea what was going to be on the next page, but what I saw took my breath
away. Tears came to my eyes. I knew - if I had had any doubts left - I knew
at the moment, that Islam is the True Religion of God. Mash'allah!
The page the link took me to
showed what looked like a red rose. It was the "Cat's Eye Nebula." Which was
an exploding star 3000 light years away. It had been photographed with the
Hubble Space Telescope. Scientists say that it is the same fate that awaits
our own solar system. Muslims refer to it as the "Rose Nebula." It had been
described in the Qur'an 1400 years ago. People back then had no way of
knowing about it. Only God could have known.
On September 12, 2002, the day
of my birthday, scientists using the Hubble Space Telescope found a second
Rose Nebula. A gift from God to all mankind. This time the scientists called
it by its rightful name, "The Rose Nebula."
http://www.cnn.com/2002/TECH/space/09/12/hubble.rose/
After accepting in my mind as
well as in my heart that Islam is the True Religion, I knew that I was
already a Muslim and the only thing left to do was to profess my faith.
I looked in an Internet
directory for mosques in my community. I called the one in the next town and
told the person who answered the phone that I wanted to convert to Islam,
and asked him when I could make my Shahada (Profession of Faith). He
told me to be there at 4 p.m. on Saturday when the Imam would also be there.
I told him that I ride the bus everywhere and it wouldn't be running late
enough for me to be able to get back home and so could I come earlier? He
said not to worry; someone would give me a ride home. I arrived as
scheduled, and as God had scheduled, I began my new life. Mash'allah!
I have since come to realize
that on that day, the greatest event of my life occurred. I had always
thought that the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me was the day that
I married my husband. But I now know it wasn't. The most important day of my
life was the day I made my Shahada and accepted Islam as the way of
life God intended me to live. It was the day I acknowledged that Islam is
the way to salvation, to Heaven, and I made a choice to practice it.
I can't say my converting to
Islam thrilled my husband. He believed what the media was saying about
Muslims and the religion. He didn't like it that I went to the masjid
[mosque] several evenings a week and left him home alone to be bored. One
night after he was finished complaining about me going to the masjid yet
again I sat down a few feet away from him and I calmly told him, "I will
never ask you to practice a religion you don't believe in. I love you too
much to try and force that on you. But I do want you to learn about Islam so
that you will at least understand what it is that I believe." I then stood
up and went into the bedroom and finished dressing to go to the masjid. I
kissed him goodbye and I left.
When I returned home I found
his whole attitude had changed. He was bright and cheerful. That night,
before going to bed, he began to learn about the beautiful religion of
Islam.
My husband began going to the
masjid with me. While I studied with the women, he would talk with a man and
ask him questions. At home he read things on the Internet, and books that he
had borrowed from the masjid. We would discuss different things he was
learning, and when a reporter on television would relate the latest lie or
myth about Islam I would point it out to him and explain the truth.
When the day came and he told
me about how some aspect of Islam was to be practiced, in a "know it all"
tone of voice, as if it were a fact, something that I myself didn't know
about, I asked him to tell me "How do you know that???" and he replied,
"Because it's in the Qu'ran!!" I was stunned! He believed! Alhumdulilah! He
knew that Islam was True! Mash'allah! If it was in the Qur'an, as far as he
was concerned it was true! Thirty-six days after I publicly professed my
faith in God and His messenger, Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him), my
husband professed his. Mash'allah! We had an Islamic marriage ceremony the
same evening. I cried when my husband made his Shahada. I knew we
would be in Eternity together!
A month before, a man at the
mosque had asked me what I thought the chances of my husband converting
were. I didn't want this man getting his hopes up, or expecting more of me
then I could deliver and so I bluntly told him, "Zero." I said, "I can't
imagine someone so dramatically changing their beliefs after having believed
something else for 70 years." But 14 days before his 71st birthday he
embraced Islam as his religion and his way of life. Alhumdulilah!
In the Muslim community we
have found another family. We have found friendship, love and acceptance
that were taught in the Christian religions we practiced at different points
in our lives, but that we felt never actually existed among most of the
members of the churches we went to.
Most of the Muslims in our
area are immigrants, but we have found no intolerance of Americans whether
they are Muslim or not. We were both welcomed into the family of Islam the
very first time each of us went to the masjid. We've always felt welcome and
accepted.
Since embracing Islam We have
found direction and purpose for our lives. We have found the meaning for our
existence. We have come to realize that we really are here only for a short
time and that what comes afterwards is far better then the fleeting
pleasures that this world has to offer us.
I have found a sense of
security concerning life after death that I had never known before. We have
both come to see the problems that we once saw as being major as actually
being opportunities to grow. We thank God for what we have, as well for what
we don't. God knows best.
Today we are Muslim. We still
care about 9/11. I still cry when I think a little too much about the events
of that day. My husband still remembers the people jumping from the
buildings. We wish all we could say about that day was where we had been
when we "heard" that the WTC had been attacked. But we did see it happen,
and it was the most devastating thing to ever happen in our lives. But from
tragedy came victory. From death has come the knowledge that we will have
life after our death. And it will be spent together.
Khadija Evans -