BREAKING FREE!

by Cyn Dee

Copyright 2009 CynDee

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I
was born in the U.S. as a Christian, or at least I was called a Christian, as is the

tradition of anyone born into the religion of his/her parents. I began going alone to a

local Baptist church when I was around ten years old.

The preacher scared me intensely, during one of the Sunday Sermons, when he shook

his stern pointer finger right towards me and said I was going to “hell in a hand basket“.

He was talking to the entire congregation, but at ten years old and no one there to

explain things to me, I felt he was indicating hell for me personally and solely.

I walked reluctantly up the church aisle a few times, between the ages of ten into my

early twenties, to make a public profession of faith, more out of fear than understanding.

I couldn’t comprehend the concept of some of the doctrine of Christianity, like the Trinity.

It was never explained to me about Jesus being the Word, as John

speaks of in his Gospel. I memorized John 3:16 -

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“for God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosever

believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life”.

I was taught that He was the Son of God, but I really didn’t appreciate or assimilate the

true essence of that statement.

My interpretation within the finite walls of my little pea brain was that God was the mean

and vengeful one and Jesus was the loving one who turned the other cheek. The Holy

Spirit played no part in my life at all. Since I could never begin to understand His role, I

just dismissed that part altogether. I had no inkling of God’s undeniable character and

deep and abiding love for me at that time.

I thought I was saved, but my walks up the aisle at church didn’t seem to quite take hold

in my life. I would become emotional at a church meeting or revival, but there was

never a real change in my heart, nothing lasting. Rather than try to study and pray

more in hopes of making sense of it, I turned from religion altogether when I was in my

twenties.

My experience in church had become more of an emotional struggle than a spiritual

awakening and personal walk with God. It would be years before I tried to even speak

to God again. I didn’t think He cared about me at all. I no longer knew what to believe

about the differing doctrines in the diverse churches and denominations I tried over that

time. The more I saw in church, the more confused and skeptical I became. Church no

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longer played a role in my life at all. I became totally lost and thrown off balance by life’s

circumstances, as I was naïve and perplexed about how to handle the trepidation of life.

I left God at church, and went out to find my own answers and seek my own way. I

would later learn that we are all here on this earth for a purpose. That purpose is to

worship our Creator, our loving Heavenly Father.

In 1998, I met a Muslim man online in a chat room. He

began telling me about Islam. I was so naïve at that time

about any and all religions, and as far as I knew, Muslims

were the people who worshipped cows. I was completely

ignorant on the topic. He promptly set me straight,

informed me that this is not what Islam is about, and then proceeded to introduce me to

a teacher at the Islamic Society of North America in a major U.S. city where I lived. This

encounter eventually would lead to a drastic and chaotic chain of events that would

forever change my life. The next ten years of my life would give rise to a reign of horror

unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. That horror had a name - Islam.

I was given just enough of the teachings of Islam to be convinced that it was truly a

religion of God, a religion of peace. It came at a time in my life when I was looking for

spiritual fulfillment from a Higher Power, and definitely a little peace in my life. I

believed in God, but that was about it. The Muslims had me at an advantage, because

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my religious slate was practically clean. They could easily convince me of anything they

wanted, and they did.

It should have been a red flag to me that I was forbidden by this teacher to have a

Qur’an, or even read it in the beginning, until he approved me to do so. Just the same, I

was lured into this cultic fanatical religion based on the facts regarding Islam given to

me at that time. Their teachings - first and foremost, Islam is a “religion of peace“.

I was taught that Islam shared the same Prophets as Christianity; the same Abraham,

Noah, Moses, David, and even Jesus. Muslims’ belief in creation is the same as

Christians in that they believe Adam was the first man born from the spirit of God, and

Eve was created as his helpmate. That was pretty much the end of similarities between

Christianity and Islam, as I would later learn. These basic beliefs in most of the same

Bible characters appealed to me, allowing for a smoother transition and convincing

proof for converting to this new religion called Islam.

I had been confused for years about the concept of Christianity’s Trinity, not being able

to wrap my head around the idea of it, so I just let it go. Islam took care of that

confusion by denying the Trinity altogether, and condemning that belief as a major,

unforgivable sin called shirk - having more than one god, or associating partners with

God.

Another positive aspect of Islam for me at that time was the idea that all Muslims were

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considered equal, and no racism supposedly existed under the umbrella of Islam.

Racism is something that I had vehemently abhorred most of my life.

An astounding statistic introduced to me was that Islam was the fastest growing religion

in America at that time. It was recorded that one fifth of the world’s population were

Muslim. I had to wonder why this was the case. What was it about this religion I had

never heard of before that was so appealing to so many Americans today, especially

women? One reason for this is that Islam teaches that women are important citizens of

Islam, being allowed to keep their own name when they marry, as well as their own

property, and are to be protected by their male counterparts. Muslim women are to be

allowed their freedoms, according to Islamic propaganda. Another reason, besides the

“peace” factor, is that Islam advocates giving to the poor and needy. How can such a

religion that upholds charity as one of its main tenets of faith be bad?

One major belief held by Muslims is that Jesus is not the Son of God. One who holds

the belief that Jesus indeed is the Son of God is called a kafr or infidel, according to

Islam. This was the hardest part of Islam for me to swallow. I had a difficult time letting

go of that long-held Christian belief about Jesus, but was eventually convinced with

traditional Islamic propaganda that Jesus wasn’t the Son of God as the so-called kafr’s

believe, but indeed was highly respected by Muslims as “one of the mightiest

messengers of God” and a major prophet of Islam, bringing the message of the

Oneness of God to the Israelites by way of the Injil, or the Gospel.

Muslims also deny that Jesus indeed died on the cross,

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believing instead that Judas Iscariot died in his place, and Jesus was ascended up to

Heaven. It took a while for me to be convinced that Jesus was not the Son of God, but

rather a messenger for God to the people of Israel only.

According to Islam, all prophets came with the same message, preaching One True

God - Allah. Four prophets came with Holy Books - Moses brought the Torah for his

people, David came with the Psalms for his people, Jesus with the Injil, or the Gospels,

for the Israelites, and Muhammad, the final messenger of Allah, the Qur’an, for all

mankind. They strongly believe and teach that the Bible has been corrupted, and only

parts that coincide with the Qur’an are accurate.

Once I fell for the lies and manipulation, I began attending the Islamic class, and

converted to the religion the following month. I was treated like royalty; waited on hand

and foot, invited to various homes, made to feel extremely important, and completely

accepted, like I had never experienced before in my life. What human being wouldn’t be

enticed by that sort of special treatment, especially if you are longing for that sense of

belonging and persistent yearning to be loved and accepted by your peers? This

explains in part the reason for so many cults these days. Parents and teachers should

beware of these dangers.

Eventually I was assigned a 'wali', which, for a convert, is sort of like a step-father. My

wali just happened to be the Pakistani teacher of the Islamic class in the city where I

lived. During that same time, it became a foregone conclusion that I should marry, as it

is an important part of the religion.

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 I met and married a Palestinian Muslim man from the class a

few months later. He seemed very kind, loving, and thoughtful,

at least at first. As soon as we were married, within the first

week, everything changed. He no longer was kind, but became

extremely controlling, overbearing and quite physically and

verbally aggressive toward me. I was immediately ordered to

begin wearing Islamic clothing any time I would leave my home, which included to work.

He would show up at my job to make sure I was wearing traditional Islamic dress, which

included a hijab (head scarf), and he insisted that I wear no makeup, perfume or

jewelry.

I was not to talk to any men at all, even friends I had before we were married. My

husband was extremely jealous. He, however, used 'dawah' (spreading of Islam) to

collect emails from women. He met a myriad of unsuspecting females in the grocery

stores, all in the name of Islam, despite the fact that Islamic law prohibits men from

looking into the eyes of a woman who is not his wife, or be alone with them. He always

used Islam to capture their attention, citing that he wanted to "save them from the

hellfire".

It was only within a few months that I became completely isolated from all my prior

friends and ultimately my family as well. I was not allowed to go shopping or do any of

the fun things I had done before, like seeing movies or going to the beach. I was denied

to have any collectibles, and to have any pictures of my family on the walls was

forbidden. I was often called stupid, crazy, dog, and a few other choice names. I was

berated and told that I was weak-minded, that I needed him, that I couldn't make it

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without him, that no one in the world cared about me or loved me. What little

confidence I had became completely shattered.

I was instructed to memorize verses from the Qur'an and to read

the entire book each month, which I did faithfully. I was strongly

advised also to read and write Arabic, as Allah would not accept

my prayers if I did not pray them in Arabic, which was the chosen

language of God. I read the hadiths (sayings and teachings of

Muhammad) daily, and gave my husband a report on what I

learned. Most of the teachings he had never heard of before, as

he obtained most of his knowledge about Islam from the Imam at the local mosque. It is

quite a familiar scene to find Muslims, especially women, who are not educated about

the teachings and beliefs of Islam. Oftentimes, as was in my case, the converts

became better teachers of the religion due to the fiery fervor they exude in relation to

their newfound faith.

I was often whisked off to churches and other sites to speak to Christians and

Americans in general about Islam, and show them that a blue-eyed, blond-haired

American woman believed in Muhammad and Islam, so they should too.

Basically, I was used to help spread their propaganda and win souls into the fold of

Islam. I was used to teach new Muslim women the five daily prayers and the basics of

Islam, and eventually became a scholar of sorts for the women in the Islamic

community. In general, women of Islam are not encouraged to study their own religion,

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yet American converts are pushed to the forefront, in the hopes of getting more converts

to embrace Islam.

Once I was showing my husband some

revealing negative stories and aspects

about Muhammad from these hadiths.

One story read that Muhammad had a

couple killed for rejecting Islam, despite

the religion’s teaching that there is no

compulsion in religion.

Another hadith is about a non-believing woman who was

married to a Muslim man. She was saying all sorts of evil

things against Muhammad. Her husband killed her;

Muhammad was grateful to him and appreciated his

actions. Muhammad ordered his men to kill all non-

believers, I.e., Jews and Christians (People of the Book),

as well as Pagans.

Muhammad married one of his wives, Aishah, when she was six years old,

consummating the marriage when she was nine years old. When she was older, she

often complained when Muhammad would compare women to dogs or donkeys. When

I shared these stories from the Islamic books with my husband, he accused me of

“trying to shake” his faith, or that the “Jews must have planted” these awful stories in his

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own Islamic books.

Shortly thereafter, I made the mistake of saying something that he didn't like. He beat

me so badly that I could barely sit for a full week. Many times I tried to leave, but when I

attempted, he would pull my hair, throw me to the ground and call me names. I was told

that I was no good, and that no one cared about me except him. He convinced me that I

would never make it on my own. Never in my life have I felt so alone and hopeless.

On September 11, 2001, I was completely and utterly devastated, as were all

Americans, and even the entire world. If you were old enough to remember that tragic

event, you remember exactly what you were doing on that horrific day that forever

changed the lives of every American for all time.

I was teaching third and fourth grade at an

Islamic School. One of the other teachers, who

was an American convert married to a Saudi

Muslim man and had seven children, came

running to tell me what had happened. At first,

I thought, how sad that a plane hit a building in

New York.

A few minutes later, she ran back to tell me that a

second plane hit the second tower, and that it was

apparently intentional. I became terrified and

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wondered what was happening in my world, just as millions of other citizens were

wondering the same thing. My husband became defensive when I questioned him

about these terrorists being Muslims, telling me that no Muslim could do this, believing

that it had to have been the Jews who were responsible.

His hatred for the Jews was unwavering. When I asked him why he hated them so

disdainfully, he stated, “I’ll have to get back with you on that”. In other words, he had no

answer without speaking with the Imam first.

After the 9/11 tragedy, I really began having misgivings about

this marriage, as well as about the religion of Islam. The day

after this horrific terrorist attack on our homeland, he ordered

me to dress in full Islamic clothing and paraded me around at

the local U.S. Post Office. I begged him not to make me do

this. I felt he did this only for show. He wanted people

(Americans) to see me like this for his own wicked and twisted

agenda. It was as though he wanted to flaunt it in their faces.

I was terrified of how I would be treated after such a devilish ordeal the day before.

The next few years were not good ones for our marriage and my faith. I no longer had

any faith to speak of. For one thing, I could not understand why God/Allah, would not

accept my prayers unless I said them in Arabic. It seemed to me to be a lot of ritualistic

acts with some head knowledge, devoid of any heart connection with God at all. To me,

this didn’t seem right. I began doubting that Islam was really the truth from and about

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the God that I knew as a child and young adult. I started to veraciously soul search,

but didn’t exactly know how to begin or where to turn.

I read a book by Ibn Warraq, “Why I Am Not a Muslim”. I went to different sites all over

the internet, trying to find out what would make a Muslim want to leave Islam. I was

looking for a good excuse to leave, even though I no longer had faith in Islam at all. I

was looking for help, a way out. I also began corresponding with renowned Egyptian

activist and author Nonie Darwish. She had converted to Christianity after being born

Muslim, and having a father in the Fedayeen, who died a martyr when she was young.

Nonie sent quite a number of convincing emails to encourage me to leave this religion

and my unhappy marriage to a man who had no respect for me as a human being,

much less his wife.

In 2004, I finally left him with strong encouragement from my now grown children. It was

a very difficult thing to do, because I had absolutely no confidence in myself to

accomplish any task without his help. I couldn’t do anything on my own and feel good

about it because I had been told how ignorant I was for so long that I completely

believed every word he had said to me for all those years.

I had to sneak away while he was at work because I was terrified of my husband. I had

no idea what he might be capable of. He considered this apostasy a betrayal towards

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him personally.

While living away from him, my tires were slashed. I called AAA, and the guy told me

the tires were deliberately cut. My husband had his friends call me constantly to go

back with him. I broke down and went back home to him after a short while. Even

though I had been away from him for a six-month time, he still had me mentally in his

grips.

In 2006, I really began soul searching and praying for God to show me the truth. I was

feeling so hopeless at this point that I didn't even want to live any more. I literally

begged God for death. I wanted to die in the worst way. I prayed to Him day and night,

begging for His mercy and His forgiveness and His help. I told Him that if I couldn’t find

the truth, I would rather die than to go on living the life I now believed to be untruths

regarding Islam.

I couldn’t bear to hear any longer of how Christians would go to hell for making partners

with God, but yet suicide bombers were martyrs, and would enjoy their 72 beautiful

virgins in Paradise. I could no longer stand it when my husband would tell me that it

was a good thing that a Jewish baby had been killed by Palestinians so he wouldn’t

grow up and become a Jewish man. I couldn’t allow myself to listen to another absurd

word from an Imam stating matter-of-factly how wonderful and blessed the 9/11 terror

attack was. How wonderful and blessed? Are you kidding me? The mindset of some of

these people now in my life was simply mind boggling.

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My husband told me on numerous occasions that I would only be allowed to go to

Paradise if he was pleased with me. For me, making that man happy was an impossible

feat at this point in life. I could no longer pretend, as I had done for the past few years

that I believed in a god named Allah or his prophet Muhammad, who was evil incarnate.

I could no longer stand behind my husband and in all earnest pray to a god that didn’t

hear me because I couldn’t pray in Arabic. I was finished with all the five daily prayers,

dressing in Middle Eastern garb, and going to the mosque to listen to senseless rhetoric

and irrational and foolhardy propaganda against my beloved country and its people.

I was finished with the unrelenting thirty-day fasts that caused excruciating bladder

infections, bleeding stomach ulcers, and exceeding resentment, all done in vain for a

man who had no respect for women, who followed and believed in a pedophilic,

murdering false prophet with a hijacked religion called peace, backed up with a little

made up god named Allah, also previously known as Allat, the moon god, who had no

power to begin with.

I had been cut off from the Islamic community years prior because of my lack of faith in

Islam and Allah and Muhammad. More than once I asked why they worship and follow

after this dead guy. This, by the way, was not advisable conversation to have with

devout Muslims.

Something in me told me to go back to my roots, back to the

beginning when I had a little faith. Fearfully and tearfully I began

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going to church. I was afraid of what my husband might do if he found out, but I was

also afraid I would go to hell for doubting the way I was, and for trying to worship God

the wrong way by doing shirk (making partners with God). I literally shook over my

entire body the first visit to church.

The first person I met was a very tall, friendly woman who could clearly sense my

anxiety and apprehension, albeit she had no clue what was happening in my life. She

came to me and put her loving arms around me as though she really cared, despite the

fact she had never seen me before in her life. I could feel the power of God in this

place. Everyone was so kind and nice and gentle, and real.

As she walked with me to show me where the worship center was, I told her a bit about

my past few years and my involvement with Islam. This was my last best hope. I

needed God more than I needed air to breathe.

This sweet and precious lady led me to a seat in the back of the church, per my request,

in case I felt the need to run out. She promised to come for me and to walk me to a

ladies class after the service.

I was worried that the devil might be in this

place, as I had been taught in Islam. I was

afraid that being in this church might cause

me to be a kafir (unbeliever), and I

definitely had enough faith to know I didn’t

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want to go to hell for being in a church with other kufar (unbelievers).

I sat in a chair all alone in the worship center, yet I didn’t feel alone at all, but excited

and extremely anxious, watching people connect with one another in a positive, loving

manner, unlike the fighting I so frequently saw in the mosque. I saw husband caress the

back of his beloved wife, and I saw neighbor reach out to neighbor in a friendly gesture,

as they embraced one another in a way that seemed so genuine.

When the music played, and the words to the melodies were sprawled across the vast

overhead projections, I read every word, as precious, loving people around me

worshipped Jesus and seemed to believe the words they were singing. I read along,

grasping hold of each word, trying to understand what this was all about. I read about

the saving blood of Jesus and how much He loves us. I listened intently to the pastor tell

about the mercy and grace God bestows on each one of us, that we are all unworthy

sinners and deserve hell, but that God had mercy on us when He sent His Son Jesus to

die for our sins.

Wow! What an experience. After the service, the tall lady came back to get me just as

promised, and together we went to the Ladies Sunday School class to learn more.

These ladies were the most accepting and loving group of ladies I had encountered in

many, many years. The women I was used to at the mosque would push you and fight

you for a meal during Ramadan. These ladies in the Sunday school class seemed like

they would give you anything they had, and genuinely feel like they were blessed to do

it. I was very happy, yet nervous to be there, but I knew in my heart, it would not be my

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last visit to this wonderful and caring place. There was something there that I needed

tremendously - hope.

I did indeed go back to that precious church with those kind and caring ladies in the

class. At first, I would tell my husband I was going somewhere else that he would

approve of. It didn't take him long to figure out something was going on. The church

knew about me, so they were being very discreet, never calling me at my home, but

encouraged me to call them when it was safe and I was able to do so. Even then, these

wise ladies knew the dangers that loomed around me during this pivotal time of my life.

The giveaway was that I had a newfound joy! God was changing my heart, and the Holy

Spirit was leaping up and down in my gut, even though at the time I had no clue what

was happening! I began to understand God and His precious love for me and all people,

even Muslims.

The change didn’t happen overnight though. It

took hours and hours, days and days, weeks and

weeks of diligent seeking and earnest prayer. I

would lock myself in my bedroom so I wouldn’t be

discovered studying the Bible and researching old

Biblical manuscripts on the internet.

God had to first convince me that the Bible was His Word, true and infallible. In Islam, I

was taught, along with my husband, to tear the Bible apart, looking for inconsistencies. I

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believed, like he did, that the Bible was corrupted. God had to prove to me that it was

His Word, and that, like Him, it was not changed, but was His Word, inspired by Him,

inerrant and infallible.

Once God convinced me that the Bible is His Word, I knew I had to believe everything in

it. It was not an option to pick and choose

according to my comfort. It was all or nothing. I

chose all, because God showed me it was all.

I sent numerous emails to the Sunday School

Teacher, asking her questions one by one. Each question would lead to a deeper

understanding of Christianity and God, which would lead to a hunger that I would keep

feeding with more of the Word and more questions for the teacher at church, as well as

questions for God. He began to teach me to trust Him to show me things I never knew

before. Everything years ago that didn't make sense about God and Christianity finally

began making complete sense.

I believed and accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, converted back to

Christianity and had an overwhelming desire to be baptized to show the world that I was

a believer, that Jesus was my Savior, that He died for my sins, and that He loved me

and knew me before the world was.

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The Gospel of John was an important lesson for me in that it finally helped me to

understand the Trinity. In John 1:1, it

says,

“In the beginning was the Word. And the

Word was with God, and the Word was

God. He was in the beginning with God.

All things were made through Him, and

without Him nothing was made that was made.

And in John 1:14, it says, “

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as

of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”

I understood! This crucial part of Christianity as a child, I had not been taught. Jesus,

the Word, is God. God took a part of Himself, wrapped it in flesh and became like us,

not only to show us an example of how to live, but to also allow us a glimpse into the

face of God. Just as in days before, when the Jews made a twice daily sacrifice with a

lamb for the forgiveness of sins, Jesus became our sacrificed Lamb for all eternity, for

all people. John 1:12 says,

“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to

those who believe in His name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh,

nor of the will of man, but of God.”

I believed, therefore, according to God’s Word, I became a child of God, a joint heir with

Jesus.

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See what great a love our God has for us? He is merciful, loving, kind, forgiving, and

completely sufficient. The Bible says that no one has seen the Father and lived. But

Jesus was there with the Father from the beginning of time. We are allowed to see God

because of what Jesus did for us. And the Holy Spirit is given to us so that we have the

power and authority given to us by Jesus to spread His word, and to live our lives as He

gave example by His life here on Earth.

At that point in my life, I wanted all that God had to offer me, and I wanted to please my

Lord. Finally I had Hope that I could count on. I had a trust and belief in that Hope that

was stronger than anything I had ever experienced in my life. My Hope is Jesus.

By that time, I could no longer keep my new faith a secret. I began talking about it, in

the hopes that my husband would be saved too, and that we could worship God

together in a loving way like I had witnessed other couples in the church do. That wasn't

to happen. He became a nightmare.

He began to terrorize me mentally and emotionally. He told me I would be sorry if I

went through with the baptism. He spit in my face and said, "If you do this, you will be in

danger". I took this threat very literally. I warned my family that if anything happened to

me, he did it!

I prayed for his salvation and that God would open his heart and the eyes of his

understanding. I wanted him to experience the awesomeness of God. I wanted

salvation for him too, and I prayed fiercely for it, but it just didn’t happen. He would not

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even listen to my explanation of how I came to realize the truths about God. He wanted

no part of it.

I asked him so many times to just pray to God, ask God to reveal to him anything that

was not truth. He was arrogant about it, and refused to discuss it any further with me,

but only became argumentative, telling me that it would be better for me to not believe

anything at all, rather than to believe Jesus is God’s Son.

I went through this for about a year. I had to get out because I felt my husband was right

when he said I was in danger. Not that I was afraid of what he could do to me physically,

but rather most importantly, that my spirit would be harmed, and my faith would dwindle.

My spiritual growth was at risk of being stunted.

Then, too, I was afraid of what Christianity said about divorce. I was very concerned

about making a mistake and losing this precious love of God I had been searching for

so long. I searched high and low, deep and wide, for a word, a scripture, a whisper

from God; something to tell me it was ok to leave this man. I still had no confidence in

my abilities to be on my own, so I became completely dependent on God for help.

God showed me in The Word in 1 Corinthians 7:13 that what I was doing in this case

was completely ok.

“If a woman has a husband who is not a believer, and he is willing to live with her, she

must not divorce him. “

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My husband was not willing for me to live with him under these circumstances. He

made it adamantly clear that I was not wanted unless I was a Muslim wife and I gave up

all ideas of Jesus being the Son of God.

That was all I needed. I had prayed for him long and exhaustively, but he wouldn’t

budge. I felt God gave me permission to leave. It was time

to take a stand for what I believed in. It was time to confess

loudly and proudly to this man that I did and would forever

believe that Jesus, the Son of God, the Lamb of God, was my

Savior. I believed that He died for my sins, and I believed that He

would take care of me for the rest of my life. I needed nothing

else. As Romans 1:16 states,

“I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation, for

everyone who believes…”

God gave me the confidence and the strength and the means to do what needed to be

done, but He made it so easy for me, and confirmed that what I was doing was

completely His perfect will. My husband not only signed the paperwork for an

uncontested divorce, but he bought me a new car, and paid for my move to a new

apartment. He would never have done this on his own. God softened his heart to do

these things for me; because that is the kind of mighty God we serve. If he can use a

donkey to talk to people, he can use unrelenting husbands to move according to His

perfect plan.

I left his home, stayed strong, went to church, moved to the other side of town, got a

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divorce immediately, and changed my name back to my own American birth name.

God grew my confidence and kept teaching me in order to strengthen my faith in such a

way that no one could ever convince me that His love for me is not real. I went through

trials like everyone else, but I have since learned that those trials are what grows our

faith and shows us the depth of the love our Heavenly Father has for us.

Since that time, I have become strong in the Christian faith, and continue my spiritual

journey daily. I had some trouble with the Muslims online for a while, continuing to

spread articles on Islamic websites that I had written in the past, but as it is written in

Romans 8:31,

"If God be for us, who can be against us"!

And also, Isaiah 54:17 says,

“No weapon formed against you shall prosper…”

I have since learned what a blessing the Holy Spirit is as well. He gives us the power

and boldness we need to do God’s will. I have found that God’s love is a perfect love, a

fulfilling love that the world can’t possibly offer. It is never failing, it is not jealous, it is

always available, and is completely unconditional. He doesn’t call names, except good

ones.

With true faith and true salvation comes

a complete change in our hearts, and

not just an emotional high that goes

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away a few hours or even a couple of days after a church service. God is always there

for us, to encourage us, to strengthen us, to give us hope, and to give us peace. This

peace is not the peace Islam talks about, but it is a peace in every sense of the word.

God’s peace comes on us from the inside of us, where He dwells.

Now, I have an overwhelming desire to teach others about this grand love of God that I

have discovered and experienced firsthand from day to day, glory to glory. My prayer is

that God will use me to hopefully save some women from the same torment I went

through. I considered myself to be one of the lucky ones because I got out alive. I

don’t call that luck. Now I call it BLESSED!

God loves you too, and wants the very best for you. If you feel that stirring in your

heart, or that gnawing in your gut that you just don’t want to live another day the way

you are living, or you feel completely hopeless with the situations in your life, God can

totally and forever change your life. You will never regret that decision for a single

moment. You were chosen by Him before the creation of the world. He knew you

before you were even born. He knows all your faults, all the sins you have committed,

and all the thoughts and feelings you are experiencing right now. The greatest thing is

that God will accept you and love you unconditionally just the way you are.

He will never force you to choose Him. He has given you free will. Today could be the

first day of the rest of your life. Today you can be a new creation in Christ, with a new

birth and a new life in Him. He can carry your burdens and He can forgive your sins and

give you the love you have longed for all your life.

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What could happen if you don’t choose Him when He calls? You may not get the

chance again. If you were to die today, do you know where you would spend eternity?

You decide. If you don’t understand it all, God understands your heart. He will meet you

where you are right now.

If you want to know Jesus and have a personal relationship with Him, pray this prayer:

Jesus, I choose to believe in You. I don’t understand everything right now, but I believe

that with just a little faith, you will teach me. Please forgive me all my sins. Wash me

with your saving blood. Come into my life and change me and make me a new person.

Help me to be all you would have me to be right now. Thank you for loving me. Show

me how to love you, so that I may love others the way you love me. In Jesus’ name.

Amen

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This book is dedicated to all the lovely ladies at the Sunday School Class who loved me
unconditionally, and was there for me every step of the way. You know who you are!

I love you!
Cyn Dee

Contact Cyn Dee at

www.grace4grace.com

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