There are seven generations of Muslims in my family on my father's side. So becoming a Christian in my family was a big deal. I was raised to believe that there is no god but Allah and Muhammad was his messenger. I was taught the read the Quran (and only the Quran) and attended Islamic school as a child. I was told Jesus was only a prophet and that the Bible was changed and corrupted and that Christians were non-believers. However, on a September evening in 2008, my life completely changed.
It was during the month of Ramadan (a largely celebrated Muslim holiday) that I started to question my beliefs. I remember thinking to myself that if Islam was not the right religion, I hope God tells me which one is the right one. I believed that Islam was true, because that's how I was raised, but I was somehow curious about Christianity. So I thought I'd started with the bible my mother had given me a bible as a small gift. She was not a Christian, but she had given it to me because it was the color blue, my favorite color at the time. I had placed it on my dresser months before, but decided that I should read it.
Now, being raised Muslim I had no idea of where to start reading in the Bible, so I decided to turn to the very last book of the Bible, the Book of Revelation. I started reading it and in the very beginning of the chapter, the first things that caught my eyes were phrases like, "Jesus, the faithful witness….the ruler of kings on earth…to Him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood." Most of this didn't make sense to me, but I decided to keep reading through the book because its seemed interesting.
Halfway through the book, I became immensely afraid. It was a fear that I had never known before, it was the fear of God. I was seeing the wrath that He was pouring out on the world, and I knew deep down, that His wrath was somehow directed towards me, because I didn't believe in the God of the Bible, nor Jesus Christ.
After I finished the entire book, I closed the Bible, and knew there was something that I needed to do. I got on my knees and prayed. I didn't know how to pray as a Christian, and I don't remember everything that I said, but I do remember praying to God, the God of the Bible, saying that I believed, I believed in His Son, and I knew that Jesus Christ died on my Cross for my sins, and I asked for forgiveness for my unbelief. The very next day, I read through the gospel of Matthew. After finishing it, I was able to understand the missing pieces of the gospel, and how truly great Jesus Christ really was. I shared the gospel with my sister, who was saved a few days later.
But, there was still something I had to do. I had to tell my father that I was a Christian. I knew that he wouldn't take it well, so after a few days, when he took a trip back home to Senegal (we were living in NYC at the time), I called him on the phone and told him the great news. I was a Christian now! The news wasn't so great for him, and we did not speak for three years. But, praise be to God, we have since reconciled, and I have been able to share the gospel with him, and our relationship is restored. I thank God for the Word of God, because after reading it I could no longer accept a counterfeit faith.