Call to atheists - Believe that God exists!

He is the Creator of you and gave you life on earth.

Do you want to wait until death to believe in Him?

If you don't want to believe in God, then DO NOT INSULT RELIGIONS and do not spread hatred and animosity towards Islaam.

How many former atheists (or secular humanists) have embraced Islam and found peace, truth, justice, and blessings from Almighty God? Many of them, male, female, young, old, academicians, scientists, who just could not hold back the truth any longer.

And do not insult or smear your `ex-atheist friends' who have stepped out of ignorance and rebellion against God, into peace and truth in Islaam.

Just because you can use the Internet doesn't mean that you can write lies and negative propaganda targeted at Islaam and the Muslims.

Just because you dwell in `man-made city and habitat' doesn't mean that you are beyond God's power and knowledge.

Just because you have all the man-made technology doesn't make God irrelevant or useless to you.

Just because you look up to and admire all the secular atheist figures doesn't mean that they were to be emulated faithfully.

If you have had `faith' and admiration of those atheists writers and persons, bear in mind that many of them were dead and you don't ever want to ponder what is happening in their graves?

Know that He the Almighty and All-Wise, is closer to your self, than your jugular vein.

Every breath you inhale is by the Mercy of God. Wait until you are struck with thunderbolt, brain hemorrhage, or heart attack, and you find yourself on bed unable to move yourself, and who will be on your side? Your atheist friends?

Muslims have no problem about being bed-ridden because we depend only on God to keep us alive, and when death comes, we look forward to the Angel of Death to bring our souls to Heaven, and hope that we will be put in the rank of the succesful.

And don't be so arrogant about your belief that there is no God, there is no Heaven nor Hell, no such thing as angels and satan, or your belief that life simply ends by death.

Why do you want to deny something that is universally true? Are atheists more united in your war against religion, or do you make a living churning out atheism materials and propaganda?

When the tsunami, Katrina, and all sorts of `nature's fury' struck humanity, haven't you been one of the many who immediately call for God's mercy and help? Aren't you one of those rescuers and doctors rushing to the disaster scene who watched the sufferings and call to God? Or are you one of the anti-religion zealots who are incensed because the sufferers did not beg for your help, but turn to God?

If you choose o discard atheism, to believe in Allah, the God of Mankind and the Universe, to submit yourself to Him, then you are welcome like long-lost friend. Be sincere and be truthful, and the Muslim brothers and sisters will be more than happy to assist you.

_____________________________________________________

http://thetruereligion.org

Gregor Shepherd

Assalamu Alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuhu

My parents tried to bring us up as Catholics but they never have taken worship seriously, so it never rubbed off. Im not very religious myself, but none of my family members really have any religion in their lives. My mothers younger sister was a nun with the Carmelite sisters but she dumped the order in 1994 after probably thirty or so years with them. (May Allah show her Islam). My mothers father converted to Catholicism when my mother was still quite young and he took religion quite seriously. He died before I was born so I dont know what he was like. I guess this is why my mother respects religious people but she doesnt do anything herself. Just before I accepted Islam she said to me that Islam is one of the worlds great religions. She also said to me to study Islam properly and stick to it. She advised me not to disappoint myself by accepting Islam, not living up to it and then dumping it later on. The most astonishing point she had to say was that if I ever became a Hindu that she'd kill me, and I know she meant it!

I firstly need to state that I was not a Christian before accepting Islam. I still remember the day clearly when I was in grade five, I couldnt have been much more than ten, that I rejected God. We used to have ritualised prayers to thank God for lunch and all the kids in the class were praying according to how they felt it should be done. Some placed their hands on their chests, others knelt, one of my friends held his arms outstretched above his head. Yet, everybody tried to say the same formula for the prayer. I dont remember the prayer but I remember thinking to myself that I dont believe in this, there is no God. So by the time I was ten I had rejected not only the Catholic Church, Jesus and everything else Christian, but God also. God never was a serious thought in my head until I was nineteen, in my second year at university.

Some converts to Islam have told me that they were spiritual people but I most certainly wasnt. To me, God was a four letter word! Religion was the last topic I could tolerate. I hated the falseness of the church establishment. I remember that a year after I had rejected God we were asked by our teacher in religion class to draw what the church means to us. I drew the priest standing behind the altar drunk, telling the congregation that it wasnt a bad drop at all. I know that these Christians were trying to worship God but they dont have any guidelines to follow. When I was in grade one, we used to be full of awe in the church or cathedral. The atmosphere instilled fear into us, but as we grew up, it slowly wore off.

The way that Christians, no matter what sect, present Jesus made me hate him, Allah forgive me. He was presented as a lamb, a weak man, even a hippy. We are expected to look up to Jesus for guidance as a leader but Christians destroy the true picture for a version which is wimpy! I found through Islam the real Jesus, as a leader of the believers and as a real man, a prophet to love as an example and to be proud to be a follower of.

Christianity made me hate the Christ, but it was Islam that made me love him.

After we had our first Reconciliation, or confession, as it was once called, we used to go off to tell the priest what sins weve done and ask God to forgive us. A child of ten is not going to know fully what is a sin and what isnt, but since the priest is always telling us how sinful we all are then I had to quickly think of some made up sins to tell as lies to the priest and escape with a few Hail Marys! Isnt it sad that we had to sin in order to admit our sins. There was not the slightest desire to actually repent to God, it was just fear of looking stupid in front of the priest, trying to avoid a flogging.

First Communion was performed but I dont remember it and I remember going through the motions of Confirmation with much bewilderment and reluctance. I thought to myself, why do I have to do this when I dont believe in it?

When I was in grade nine after much argument and harsh words my parents dragged me off to town for Christmas Mass (we lived in a country town in New South Wales of 2500 people 22 kilometres from the next large town) and there was such a huge gathering at the church that people were standing outside. I sat on the grass and waited for the boring hour to end so I could go home and go swimming. In our grade twelve religion class, our principal was the teacher and for the whole year he only turned up to the class a handful of times! I remember the day towards the final high school exams when our class debated with him the existence of God! This was at a Catholic school! Its not hard to see why God did not mean very much to me.

When I went to university in Melbourne I enrolled in a Chinese Business
course. I really excelled in Chinese and in my first year I was awarded a
scholarship to Beijing for three and a half months over the 1990-91 summer break. It was in China that I first really met Muslims. The university where we studied had over one thousand students from more than two hundred countries. In my class there was a Pakistani girl sitting in front of me, but religion was never spoken of. I really learned how to get drunk in China, something that my parents would even now be shocked to know. I would drink everyday. China was just plain fun and religion wasnt further from my mind.

Towards the end of my stay in China I was able to go on a student trip. There were four destinations offered, Shanghai, Canton, the North East or the Mid West. I opted for the trip to Xian in the mid west since that was the only one I could afford. Little did I know that it would set me on a trip towards Islam. On the journey about half of the twenty or so students were Muslims. They included Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Syrians and one Sri-Lankan. While travelling we discussed religion with the Nepalese Hindus who were with us. The Arabs sternly and firmly announced that there is only one God. The Nepalese proudly boasted of millions of gods one for each person, individually granted to each child by the Hindu priest upon birth. I thought that the Hindu idea was totally ridiculous but I was still uninterested in God and religion.

I was, however, interested in languages so I asked the Syrians how they read Arabic since I had heard that Arabic is spelled without vowels. We found communication difficult since we all spoke Chinese together and communication broke down. The Sri-Lankan Muslim spoke English also and he explained to me from his Tamil-Arabic book the function of the fathah, kasrah and dhammah over the letters. He was also the only Muslim that I saw doing salat while travelling in China, though at the time I didnt know what he was doing. I never knew his name.

Later when we had arrived in Xian from Beijing we needed to transfer from the train to a coach and since I had two travel bags, I was having a little trouble. One of the Syrians looked like a big Italian Mafia boss from New York and since he was an Arab, I knew he had to be a dangerous terrorist. This dangerous man immediately came to my rescue and without me asking took my heavy bag and climbed up into the bus. I followed him and when he saw me, he simply said Qing zuo!, Please sit, slapping his hand on the seat next him. So how could I refuse? This was the beginning of one of the deepest friendships I ever had. We talked together all the way to the hotel and we couldnt keep apart during the rest of the tour.

The tour lasted about a week and on the last day of our tour around Xian our tour guide asked us if wed like to go to the Jamia mosque or the Forest of gravestones. Since half of the students were Muslims we opted for a visit to the mosque and the gravestones sounded dull. The mosque is about one thousand years old and looks rather like a Chinese temple except for all the Arabic calligraphic decorations. I saw one design on the wall and took a photo of the design. Years later while flicking through my photo album I looked at it carefully and realised that it was the kalimah, La ilaha illAllahu Muhammadur Rasulullah!

My stay in China ended two weeks later and I wept when I had to leave my Syrian friend behind. I had known him for only three weeks but I loved him more than any other person in the world. When we returned from the tour he would ask me to visit his dorm room and share warm milk with him, something I had never done before. He and the other students showed me the Islamic virtue of Ikram, generosity, without wanting anything in return. We never really discussed religion except that I found out that Muslims believed in Noah and his Ark. Oddly, when I asked him if as an Arab he hated Jews, he asked me why should I hate Jews? I also suggested that Jews and Muslims had similar religions, something which he firmly rejected, they seemed almost the same to me.

My love for my new friend led me to an insatiable curiosity with everything Arabic. Back home in Australia, I always talked about my Syrian friend and things Arabic which I think must have startled my friends and family. Months later my best friend handed me a book called The Life and Times of Muhammad by Pasha Glubb, a British orientalist who had been in the Jordanian Army. It is a terrible book, but at the time I revelled in the story of a man called Muhammad unfolding in front of my eyes like the images of a movie on a screen. By the time I had finished the book I fully believed that Muhammad really was a prophet.

My curiosity in Arab things led me to get books about the Arabic language, so I went to the Victorian State Library to find books. I found one old book that had the Fatihah on the first page with a transliteration and a translation. After reading the translation, I was so impressed by the prayer that I copied the whole thing into my notebook, Arabic and all! My curiosity also led me to my College library where I found a copy of the Quran. I didn't expect to find one, but the whole shelf must have had about fifty or so copies by various translators. I picked a small one that had photos of mosques from around the world. It turned out that this particular translation was by N.J. Dawood, an Iraqi Jew, who had mixed up the order of the surahs, so its not so dull to read. Even part of the text was missing due to bad printing! Despite all this, there was no way that I could put the book down. I read it in bed before sleeping, and the first thing I did after waking up was to read some more. I read it on the train to university and on the way home, even in class when the lecture became boring! I remember even taking it to a classmates home when I stayed over the night. The main impression I got from the Quran was the gravity of the next life and particularly Hell. I remember while reading the translation saying to myself that I have to become a Muslim.

So I had believed in Muhammad and I now believed in the Quran, the next step was God, the four letter word! I was walking with my parents to the shop one afternoon and I asked them if it was stupid to believe in God, to which they replied, not really, we do. That reassured me, but it also meant a challenge to my whole being and I found myself struggling with this new and almost foreign spirituality. I thought that to believe in God was fine but did I have to adopt Islam to do it? I then decided to read the Bible. It was so dull that I don't think that I got past Numbers or Kings. It just didn't have the power of the Quran. So I asked my mother to take me to a Latin church service and I loved it. There was so much ritual and formalism in the Latin Mass and I was in ecstasy with the Latin. I understood nothing but I felt closer to God and that the few people there really wanted to worship God. It was in the city cathedral and I was just over awed. I remember visiting the cathedral with my girlfriend later on and having to hold back my tears from weeping. The interest wore off just as quickly as it started because it was just not quite right. There was still something missing.

Later my girlfriend's mother was to be the new principal at a Catholic primary school and the mass there was so wishy-washy and modern that I was almost physically sick. The service was in a hall with chairs arranged in a circle with the little kids under four years sitting in the centre. They sang such childish and puerile songs that I was disgusted. That was not worshipping God, it was a sick joke! When I reflected on what church used to be like when I was a child it was at that point that I lost hope in Catholicism.

I had learnt so much about Islam, Arabic and Muhammad that I felt I needed to ask Muslims more questions about Islam, but I didn't know any and it never occurred to me that there were mosques in the city. However, there was a Muslim girl from South Africa, in one of my classes who wore hijab so I knew I could ask her, but I was too shy. I assumed that all people were like me, (thank God they are not!) and that she would be offended to discuss her religion. Our class assignment had to be done in pairs and Allah arranged that she was to be my partner for the assignment. After the assignment I approached her one day in the college canteen and I coyly and quietly asked her if she would mind answering some of my questions about Islam. Her reply stunned me, Of course! What would you like to know?

I was introduced to two other ladies at the college, one Australian and another Turkish, who also helped with my search. The Islamic society at the college played the movie The Message which I went to see, but unfortunately a storm caused a power failure and I did not see the end of it. I was weeping in the theatre. I was so impressed by the scene where the companions of Muhammad go out into Makkah to declare their faith. I had a dream the next day and when I woke up I had the words There is no god but God and Muhammad is the Messenger of God on my lips, just like those companions. I rang up the South African girl to tell her about it. She introduced me to her father and brother and they helped a lot. Her brother-in-law is the son of a prominent Imam in Melbourne and they invited me to a youth gathering in the city on weeknights after the end of year exams were to be over. I couldn't wait and I begged them to let me go that very week.

When I went along the first time, I saw the men doing salat and I remember comparing it church and I then knew that salat is the correct way to worship God. The azan for the following Friday but it never happened. Since also had a great effect on me. Later a book was read aloud to the group. I do not remember the title or author, but I know that it was the reading of this book which clinched my belief in God. The passage being read meant roughly; ...for the non-believer there is no caring, loving, sustainer who protects and provides for him, helping throughout life... it was at that point that I felt as if my entire body had been shattered into each individual atom and scattered throughout the universe. I remember feeling so incredibly lonely and empty that I even felt my head tilt backwards from despair. The reader kept going, however, and I listened to him read; ...but for the believer there is a caring, loving, sustainer who protects and provides for him, helping at every moment... it was at this point that all those atoms in my body came flooding back together from across the universe and I became one again. I was convinced that Allah really exists! I knew then that I had to accept Islam.

My new Muslim friends at the youth group organised my conversion party for the following Friday but it never happened. Since my father had been given a transfer with the Air Force to Brisbane, a farewell party held by his friends meant that I couldn't make it. I also wanted to move with my parents and start a new life as a Muslim avoiding all the difficult questions my friends and associates were bound to ask. We moved to Brisbane the next week.

Now in Brisbane I had no friends and no contacts, just my translation of the Quran which I read three times over and a few simple guidebooks on Islam. We spent a few weeks settling into the new house which was in the vicinity of the Holland Park Mosque (there were only four mosques then in Brisbane and they were all far apart) and I spent most of my time learning about Islam and trying to do salat. We went on a two week Christmas holiday to the beach and I did much of the same.

About one week before I accepted Islam a class friend from Melbourne came to visit me while on holidays in Brisbane. She asked me to go with her and her friends to a disco at the local high school. I only went since she had just come two thousand kilometres for a visit. I was rather bored there with the dancing and enjoyment, I never really liked that kind of thing. After an hour or so the fellow who was singing in the band to us all there not to forget the reason why we had gathered tonight and then has said, so lets do this next song for Jesus! And they promptly sang a foolish disco rap song about how Jesus has saved us! I felt ill.

Later that same night I went home and got into the pool in the back yard and sank into the water so that only my nose and eyes were free and I stared up at the stars above me. I simply said to myself, God or whoever you are, help!

I was incredibly bored and desperate to talk to someone about my new faith, so I decided to just walk up to the mosque to meet some Muslims. I walked the twenty minutes to the mosque but Shaytan told me to forget it, so I did, and I went home. The inexorable attraction to the mosque led me right inside the next day, but unfortunately there was nobody there at about three p.m. When I was just about to leave, a Lebanese brother asked if he could help in any way, so I told him that I wanted to talk about Islam. He asked me to follow him and he then led me up the street to the mosque house where half a dozen young Muslim men were living. I was introduced to another Australian brother and my wish came true, at last someone to talk to about Islam! I didn't understand much of what we talked about but I knew that it was true and that was all that mattered. I accepted Islam with the Imam the next night, January 21, 1992 and I took the name Abdul Azim, servant of The Tremendous.

Since my acceptance of Islam I have lived in Pakistan for one year, where I also got married and thanks to God I now have two young sons, Aftab and Muhammad.

Wassalam.
gl.shepherd @ student.qut.edu.au

(GREGOR SHEPHERD)

Ibrahim Karlsson (Formerly Ulf)

I was born in an ordinary , non-religious Swedish home, but with a very loving relationship to each other. I had lived my life 25 years without really thinking about the existence of God or anything spiritual what-so-ever; I was the role model of the materialistic man.

Or was I? I recall a short story I wrote in 7th grade, something about my future life, where I portray myself as a successful games programmer (I hadn't yet even touched a computer) and living with a Muslim wife!! OK, at that time Muslim to me meant dressing in long clothes and wearing a scarf, but I have no idea where those thoughts came from. Later, in high school, I remember spending much time in the school-library (being a bookworm) and at one time I picked up a translated Qur'an and read some passages from it. I don't remember exactly what I read, but I do remember finding that what it said made sense and was logical to me.

Still, I was not at all religious, I couldn't fit God in my universe, and I had no need of any god. I mean, we have Newton to explain how the universe works, right?

Time passed, I graduated and started working. Earned some money and moved to my own apartment, and found a wonderful tool in the PC. I became a passionate amateur photographer, and enrolled in activities around that. At one time I was documenting a marketplace, taking snapshots from a distance with my telelens when an angry looking immigrant came over and explained that he would make sure I wasn't going to take any more pictures of his mum and sisters. Strange people those Muslims...

More things related to Islam happened that I can't explain why I did what I did. I can't recall the reason I called the "Islamic information organisation" in Sweden, ordering a subscription to their newsletter, buying Yosuf Ali's Qur'an and a very good book on Islam called Islam - our faith. I just did!

I read almost all of the Qur'an, and found it to be both beautiful and logical, but still, God had no place in my heart. One year later, whilst out on a patch of land called "pretty island" (it really is) taking autumn-color pictures, I was overwhelmed by a fantastic feeling. I felt as if I were a tiny piece of something greater, a tooth on a gear in God's great gearbox called the universe. It was wonderful! I had never ever felt like this before, totally relaxed, yet bursting with energy, and above all, total awareness of god wherever I turned my eyes.

I don't know how long I stayed in this ecstatic state, but eventually it ended and I drove home, seemingly unaffected, but what I had experienced left uneraseable marks in my mind. At this time Microsoft brought Windows-95 to the market with the biggest marketing blitz known to the computer industry. Part of the package was the on-line service The Microsoft Network. And keen to know what is was I got myself an account on the MSN. I soon found that the Islam BBS were the most interesting part of the MSN, and that's where I found Shahida.

Shahida is a American woman, who like me has converted to Islam. Our chemistry worked right away, and she became the best pen-friend I have ever had. Our e-mail correspondence will go down in history: the fact that my mailbox grew to something like 3 megabytes over the first 6 months tells its own tale. She and I discussed a lot about Islam and faith in god in general, and what she wrote made sense to me. Shahida had an angels patience with my slow thinking and my silly questions, but she never gave up the hope in me. Just listen to your heart and you'll find the truth she said.

And I found the truth in myself sooner than I'd expected. On the way home from work, in the bus with most of the people around me asleep, and myself adoring the sunset, painting the beautifully dispersed clouds with pink and orange colours, all the parts came together, how God can rule our life, yet we're not robots. How I could depend on physics and chemistry and still believe and see Gods work. It was wonderful, a few minutes of total understanding and peace. I so long for a moment like this to happen again!

And it did, one morning I woke up, clear as a bell, and the first thought that ran through my brain was how grateful to God I were that he made me wake up to another day full of opportunities. It was so natural, like I had been doing every day of my life!

After these experiences I couldn't no longer deny God's existence. But after 25 years of denying God it was no easy task to admit his existence and accept faith. But good things kept happening to me, I spent some time in the US, and at this time I started praying, testing and feeling, learning to focus on God and to listen to what my heart said. It all ended in a nice weekend in New York, of which I had worried a lot, but it turned out to be a success, most of all, I finally got to meet Shahida!

At this point there was no return, I just didn't know it yet. But God kept leading me, I read some more, and finally got the courage to call the nearest Mosque and ask for a meeting with some Muslims. With trembling legs I drove to the mosque, which I had passed many times before, but never dared to stop and visit. I met the nicest people there, and I was given some more reading material, and made plans to come and visit the brothers in their home. What they said, and the answers they gave all made sense. Islam became a major part of my life, I started praying regularly, and I went to my first Jumma prayer. It was wonderful, I sneaked in, and sat in the back, not understanding a word the imam was saying, but still enjoying the service. After the khutba we all came together forming lines, and made the two 'rakaas'. It was yet one of the wonderful experiences I have had on my journey to Islam. The sincerity of 200 men fully devoted to just one thing, to praise God, felt great!

Slowly my mind started to agree with my heart, I started to picture myself as a Muslim, but could I really convert to Islam? I had left the Swedish state-church earlier, just in case, but to pray 5 times a day? to stop eating pork? Could I really do that? And what about my family and friends? I recalled what Br. Omar told me, how his family tried to get him admitted to an asylum when he converted. Could I really do this?

By this time the Internet wave had swept my country, and I too had hooked up with the infobahn. And "out there" were tons of information about Islam. I think I collected just about every web page with the word Islam anywhere in the text, and learned a lot. But what really made a change was a text I found in Great Britain, a story of a newly converted woman with feelings exactly like mine. 12 hours is the name of the text. When I had read that story, and wept the tears out of my eyes I realized that there were no turning back anymore, I couldn't resist Islam any longer.

Summer vacation started, and I had made my mind up. I had to become a Muslim! But after all, the start of the summer had been very cold, and if my first week without work was different, I wouldn't lose a day of sunshine by not being on the beach. On the TV the weatherman painted a big sun right on top of my part of the country. OK then, some other day... The next morning; a steel grey sky, with ice-cold gusts of wind outside my bedroom window. It was like God had decided my time was up, I could wait no longer. I had the required bath, and dressed in clean clothes, jumped in my car and drove the 1 hour drive to the mosque.

In the Mosque I approached the brothers with my wish, and after dhuhr prayer the Imam and some brothers witnessed me say the Shahada. Alhamdulillah! And to my great relief all my family and friends have taken my conversion very well, they have all accepted it, I won't say they were thrilled, but absolutely no hard feelings. They can't understand all the things I do. Like praying 5 times a day on specific times, or not eating pork meat. They think this is strange foreign customs that will die out with time, but I'll prove them wrong. InshaAllah!

An interview with Ibrahim Karlsson

WHAT ARE THE TRUE FACTORS THAT BROUGHT YOU TO ISLAM?

Tough question. I guess the logic of it all. You see. I had no belief in god, and all this religious stuff seemed strange to me. But then I had some powerful "god-experiences" whilst out taking pictures sin the wilderness. A great sense of belonging to something bigger, being a tiny part of a plan for all the creation.

I don't know how long I have favored Islam, I just knew that Christianity wasn't for me. I couldn't accept all the layers of "servants" and clerks between me and God. Priests, bishops etc. And worshiping the "half-god" Jesus seemed really strange

I found a friend on the net, she too were a convert, and her liberal, yet firm belief spoke to my heart too. And gradually I began to believe in God (of course I after my God-experiences, what could I do?)

Reading the Quran, and listening to Muslims were the key factors. The logic and reasoning of the Quran. the scientific facts. All made it clear to me that this was not the work of a man, but the words of God.

And there you have it, I believed in God, and fully accepted that Muhammed were one of God's Prophets. Whet else could I do but Revert to Islam?

WHAT DIFFICULTIES YOU HAD IN THE WAY?

Only my own cowardliness. My previous experiences with Muslims were nil. And I've always looked at religious people with skepticism. I were simply afraid what would happened to me. If I tried to search my own feelings. Afraid of what I might become.

Also living in a community without Muslims made it harder, I have to travel 1 hour to get to the nearest Muslim community. And there were not always the possibility to go and see them when I needed to.

WHEN DID YOU COME TO ISLAM AND WHAT WAS THE RESPONSE OF YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS?

I converted the 24th of July this year, but what made me take the step that day is a long story. Let's just say that Allah gave me some subtle pushes...

The response from friends and relatives is all positive. They have all taken it very well, of course they have asked some polite questions; like why, and why not Christianity. But. I must repeat, only positive responses (at least as far as I know) my dad makes some silly jokes, but that's just the way he is.

HOW ISLAM CAN CHANGE AND IMPROVE ONE'S LIFE?

I don't know how, but I'm much happier now. Not so tense and uptight. Secure in my belief and secure in Allah's protection. My friends say I'm much more relaxed, spreading an atmosphere of control and calmness around to people.

I were never much of a party animal, so there's no change there, but others have given up their bad habits and are living a much healthier life. I treat women with much more respect (at least I want to) than before. Especially Muslim women whom I hold in high regard now.

And finally, Islam made me grow up. I feel much more mature. Perhaps because the searching for peace of mind is over. This is the biggest difference I feel within myself as a consequence of reverting to Islam.

PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT YOURSELF AND YOUR FAMILY.

Oh. I'm a 25 year old (male) Swede from the mid-class. Grown up in a stable home with both parents working, no problems in the family what-so-ever (I'm being the black sheep by converting to Islam..) Have a good job at a Nuclear power plant maintaining health-physics and other instruments. A job I really like (although some days I feel like killing my boss.)

I'm in the process of getting new connections and friends within the Muslim community, which isn't as easy as it sounds, living 60 miles from the nearest Muslims. e-mail and the internet is a great help to me. accessing Muslim communities all around the globe.

http://www.islamfortoday.com/evans01.htm

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 -