Sunday, June 18, 2006

"O" 's story

He lost his mother when he was seven and within three years, his father also, and was left to the care of the extended family. He was sent to school, but could not find his place in it. He escaped and lived as a street cat for a few years, looking after himself, until an uncle discovered him and took him under his wing. The uncles ‘wing’ and the job he offered to teach him was drug trafficking! It was just a matter of time before falling into police hands. He escaped a couple of times and eventually joined some men who were leaving behind the calamities of Afghanistan searching for a better world.
He entered six different European counties, was caught without papers and expelled. So he ended up in Athens and one day came through the gates of Helping Hands. Bewildered, hurting, with no walls within him, despaired yet daring to hope, craving for true love and affection.

He was only 16 and a bit!!!!! Survivor and fighter but damaged.

He was loved by all here and was introduced to Jesus. He took some steps towards Him but he faltered. The conflicts within him and an amazingly sensitive heart made his sorrows unbearable at times, and so, last September, his life, he felt, came to a dead end and he suddenly took off and left us, ending up in Holland.

Prayers, many prayers followed him.

Here are some of the messages some of the messages that came through my mobile phone during the months of August and September last year, at the height of his distress.

Aug 04
Dear Kallia, my name is hope but I have not hope to life. I miss you. I want to see you. Love from "O"

Aug 04
BROKEN HEART IS FOR ME. ALONE IS FOR ME. BUT GOD IS FOR WHO? God forget me. ALONE is for me, sad is for me but God is for others. I want dead.

Aug 04
Dear Kallia , please do not forget me. You are my last hope. I cry. You love me or you kill me. I am alone , my mother.

Aug 04
FORGET ME FOR EVER. Angels death say Hello to i. Come with us.

22 Aug 04
Forget me. I died.

Sep 04
Dear Kallia, how are you. Love from my deep heart

Sep 04
Dear Kallia and Jim, today I went to see baptism. I want to change myself but everytime I am sad. I am thinking about before, future, time and life. Every people they think bad about me. I sit in park and I thinking. Some people saw me and think I am crazy.Yes I am.

Sep 04
Dear Kallia, today I spoke with brother Jim. He listens to me like my father, all day I was thinking about this. I am not fighter, I am weak. I swim but until when

5 Sep 04
Mountains can fly,
Ocean can dry,
You can forget me,
But never can I.

And here is, a year later, his latest e-mail message found in my computer, sent
from a refugee complex, in Holland!!!!!!!

25 Aug. 05
Dear Kallia and Jim. How are you? I am good. How is life with you? I hope you have a good time. I love you for ever…
If I can do anything for you just tell me, I have God now.

A lady who is looking into the possibility of adopting him wrote, ‘…he is in the Word constantly and I truly believe he is walking in the path of God…A lady missionary working in Holland writes, ‘during one of the projects in Amsterdam he personally led two Muslim boys to the Lord’!!!!!

Dear brothers and sisters, is any tragedy in this universe bigger then the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and is any wilderness more desperate than the desperate pursuing of the Divine Lover?

Dear partners in this ministry, please continue to intercede on the behalf of this young man until Christ is fully formed in him. His name is "O".

AND HERE IS O's STORY TOLD FROM HIMSELF...

My father was born in Kabul and lost his father when he was 10 years old. They killed his father and he was a policeman in Kabul. When he was 12 years old his mother fell from 2nd floor of the house when she was hanging out the clothes, and she died. My father grew up with different families. When he was 18 he started working for politics. He was first a soldier and when he was 20 years old the government sent him to Russia to special politic university in Moscow. He met my mother there and a relationship they started. After 4 1⁄2 years he finished university and moved back to Afghanistan but he was already married with my mother. He was 6 months in Afghanistan andthey sent him back to Moscow to keep him working.... like making bombs... like the different projects they had between different countries. After 10 months I was born in Rjazan, Russia (1988?). (“The calendar years in Iran are different than in the Netherlands calendar.”)

My mother died in the hospital from operation when I was born. When this happened it changed my father inside and he decided to stop his work. Then he told the government I don’t want to kill more people. It's enough to kill people by making guns or bombs for killing people. And the government told him that he must work for them because they sent him to university.

For the time they can use him and he must not stop the work. Also he knew what project they wanted to do, and when this happened my father took the stuff he had, like papers and documents that he had from his work. We went and we were refugees in Iran because they told him that if he didn’t work they will kill his son and they will kill him also.
We lived in Tehran and I grow up in Tehran. We had a very hard life. My father was going to work in the shop making watches. I was going to school. We were hiding ourself and every house we were living in we were using other names. In the house we had a gun because he was afraid. We moved every year to other houses. In Iran we were really afraid. We did not have contact with anybody.

One time 10 pm in the night the phone in our house was ringing. I was 13 years old. My father took the phone and after he answered he was really nervous. He went very fast and took the keys for his motorcycle, and his wallet, and his phone book, and some papers and told me go hide in the closet and not to come out until he is back. He went out and after a few minutes he came back again and said I must go with him. He was really afraid. I was asking him what is wrong. What happened? He said don’t worry I am here. I won’t leave you. We got on the motorcycle and we went to downtown Tehran. He told me to sit on the motorcycle and told me he would be back. If somebody comes near you and something happens, or you hear a voice or something, just run away. After 20 minutes my father came back. His face was white and on his forehead was blood. On his left hand was blood. He was not normal. He was dragging his foot.

I asked him what happened. He didn’t tell me. He said to just jump on the motorcycle.
We rode to the street that was going to Khavaran. When we got there in the middle of the street he stopped and he said to me to get off. I did, and right after I got off he fell down with the motorcycle. His face was really white and his eyes were red and from his mouth was coming blood and some yellow stuff. Also from an ear was coming blood. Also when he fell down he was shaking all over his body and suddenly it stopped. The people in the street helped me take him to the hospital on that street. The doctor said this man is dead. After 30 minutes a police car came and took me to the police station.

I was 1 week there in the jail with all kinds of people like killers. I was really afraid. In the jail was 5 men they hurt me so much. The room was dark and they raped me. After 1 week a soldier came and told me to come out. I went out and I went to the office there and they told me I could go.

I asked him what happened with my father. He said to me you must be happy we let you go from here and forget your father. If you know what problem your father had you would not go out from this police station. In the one week when I was there they were asking me what I know about my father and what happened. I was saying I don’t know. They asked me do you think your father had a heart attack or something like that. I asked where is the body of my father and they didn’t answer me. They gave me back the key of the motorcycle and the wallet of my father, but they did not give me back the telephone book or the papers that were with him.

After that I was going back to Khavaran to my house. When I went the door was closed. On the door was a paper from the bank saying we didn’t pay and it was closed. That day was the 3rd of the month and we payed already on the 1st. When I was coming out from the house one car came near me and they pushed me in. They covered my eyes and put something on my head. They tied up my hands and my feet on one chair. They started hitting me. And they startedasking questions from me, about the work of my father and what I know from him. And about where are the papers, the documents he was taking from Russia. They hit me and they broke my right hand, my left foot from inside was bruised from the hitting. My ribs were forced down from being hit in the chest with wood, something in their hand, and the man kicking me. Also they took hot water and poured it near my left knee. They cut with scissor my pinkie finger and on my index finger on my left hand. On the right they did the same. They were hitting me with brass knuckles and asking me the same questions. After 5 days one time I was on the floor. The things over my eyes were coming off. I saw the face of them – 3 men and one woman. They were just talking to each other in the room. Two of them look like Afghani people. The woman and the other man looked Russian – blond hair. After that they understand that I saw them. They put me on the chair again and started using electricity and a cable with wires on my chest and on my neck. After that I fainted again.

Next day one of the men came to me and he said this is your last day. If you tell us where are the documents we will let you go. If you don’t tell we will kill you. I had fallen down near the windows. My hands and feet were not tied. The window was open and the man busy with some books on the other side of the room. Something in myself said just jump from this window. I was really afraid. I was on the 2nd floor of the house but I jumped and I came down on the grass. The house was like a villa. I was just running far, as far as I can from that place. I went to one park and I sleep three days in a park, cold weather. I sat on a bench and I couldn’t move. My foot was swollen and it could not move. All my body was in pain.

Somebody came and said my name. I saw it was the friend of my father. He asked me what happened and I tell all the things to him. He took me to a hospital. I was 1 month in the hospital. They did an operation on my hand and my foot, and treated my burns. After that the friend of my father said he was going to Turkey and he asked me if I wanted to go with him or not.

Actually he said I must go with him or these people will take you and kill you. Also he made a photo of my injuries. He said if you go to another place you will have something to show to them.

From Iran to Turkey we were one month on the way. First we took a bus from Tehran to Kordestan. We crossed the border with a horse. After that we were walking in the mountains and after we went with one truck to Ankara. And from there we went with another truck to Istanbul.

I was in Istanbul 4 months. First in Haghsarai and after another house in Zatunbornu. After that the friend was leaving to Greece. He took me and we were 5 days on the way. First we went by truck to the border. We crossed the border with a boat. In that time so much people died because of drowning, but we made it. We were in Athens and the friend of my father left earlier than me from Greece. He went to Norway.

I was living alone in Athens. It was there I became a Christian. I was baptized and grew in my faith.    Then was beginning other problems for me with Muslim Afghanistan people about the religion. I was talking with so many people about Jesus. Also I was going to Helping Hands. They gave me a house because I had nothing. I didn’t have clothes, even I was taking food from the garbage and eating that, from hunger.

When I became a Christian everything changed. The Muslim Afghanis were trying to tell me to leave this religion. If you don’t do it we will kill you. One night a group was coming and they were just hitting me. In the middle of this time I decided to leave Greece. I try to do that. I asked one smuggler to make a passport for me. That time was the Olympic Games 2004.
Near the end of the Olympic Games one time in the night I was walking to the house, I was living at the Helping Hands house. A bunch of people came and they had something hiding their faces. They put me into something... like plastic... like a tarp... my hand was tied and my feet were tied. They put me in the trunk of a car. They took me to a place near the sea and they threw me into the water. I was lucky because at that time a boat... God saved me... the boat of the police was crossing there. They took me out from the water and asked me who did this to you? I did see their faces. I didn’t know what to tell them.

That time I was afraid and I took the passport and I went with the bus to one island of Greece. From there I bought a ticket to Italy. I tried first time, and second time, but I couldn’t. They understand that the passport is not mine. I came out from where the ship is and two boys tried to take me to a dark place to rob me. Again I was lucky because the police were crossing there. God was with me. After that I went back to the harbor and bought the ticket of the last ship. I prayed and I went inside the ship without a problem.

After 15 hours I was in Italy, Ancona. From Ancona I took a train to Rome. When I was in Rome I only had 2 euros and I was sleeping in the street for one week. I remember a woman I met in Greece from America and she was living in Virginia. Her name is Darlene. I went to a calling center where after the phone conversation you pay. My call was exactly 2 euros so I could pay when I came out. Darlene sent me about $300.

With that money I bought a ticket to Paris. From Paris I bought a ticket to Amsterdam. In Amsterdam I called a woman living in Netherlands. I had her number from the friend of my father. She said to me if I say I was in Greece they will send me back to there. I must tell some other thing. I was afraid to go back to Greece because I tried so much to live there and I had so much problem with the Muslim Afghanistan people. That is why I lied. Also I was thinking if I tell the story of my father the police of Netherlands will get me and put me in prison. For me police is the same as those Iran. I keep that in myself.

About two months ago I had a phone call from Norway at 4 am. Somebody in the place of the friend of my father was calling me. He was trying to know where I am living, but I understand it was not my father’s friend but another man. I had so many phone calls in these two months from them. In the first phone call he told me I have something for you. I asked what is that. He said it is the phone book of your father and it has your picture
in it.

They told me my father was a terrorist and they asked me what I know about my father and if I have those documents from my father I must send back to them. They said to me if I know something about my father or if I see what is inside the document I am one of them. If somebody is in this work they can never get out of it. Like your father--he wanted to stop but we killed him.

The last phone call I had was 1 December. They gave me one week time to send the documents back to them. They said if I don’t send back to them they will kill me. And they told me exactly what they were doing in that villa in Iran to me. I am really afraid of them. I don’t want to start again running to other country because when I came in Netherlands was beginning a big rest for me. Netherlands was a paradise for me. Here I can go to school. They give me house, food, clothes, I don’t need to be afraid from people. I had very nice time till now here with so many friends from church and school.

I decide to trust God and the government and that is why I tell all this story. Till now I saw so many things from God and now I trust Him. He has blessed me with so much. When I have trust in Him I must tell the truth. Now I just tell the truth.    I am sure God is with me and He is helping me. Also I pray He touch the heart of the person who is reading this also.

Monday, June 05, 2006

"A" 's story

My name is " A" . I'm 28 years old, and I from Tehran, Iran. I am married and I have a one and a half year old son. I've lived outside Iran for almost 7 years. I was in Turkey for 6 years. I have been in Greece now for almost 7 months.

4 years ago I returned to Iran to get married, then I returned to Turkey with my wife. After 2 years, God gave us our son. I gave him as a gift to God to use him anywhere. Because of the economic problems in Turkey, I sent my wife and son back to Iran 9 months ago. I came to Greece by myself.

I grew up in a strict Muslim house. When I was 16 years old, I started work as a tailor in a shop that employed 40 people. The owner of the shop was an Armenian Christian. One day he came to visit the shop. He came up to me-it was a Thursday, the last day of the Muslim week, when my week's work was already over-and I was just sewing a pair of trousers for myself. When he saw my job, he asked if I would like to work with him privately. Two weeks later, I quit that job and started working for him in his house. His customers were Armenian as well. His house was far from our house, so my employer decided to let me sleep at his house and I would go home on weekends. When I told my parents, they didn't want to let me go because they believed that my employer's family was unclean (because they were not Muslims), that I should not eat with them, and that I shouldn't even accept their money. But I told my parents, "I know them, and they are really polite, and I love them." My employer had 2 children. His son was 4 years younger than me, and his daughter was 6 years younger, so we became exactly like brothers and sisters. His wife loved me like her children. She didn't let me wash my own clothes but would do my laundry herself. I worked for them for 5 years, and during that whole time, they would talk about Jesus. His wife was a wonderful believer. She wanted to make sure that I knew that Jesus was the Son of God and He is the only way to salvation.

When I got older, I was had to go into the army. I became friends with my fellow soldiers and became more like them. I can say that, before, when I was in my employer's house, I didn't sin, but in the two years I was with my fellow soldiers, I sinned enough to send me straight to hell. After a couple of months, I was reassigned in the army to the religious police division, where I was taught how to interrogate and brainwash people. There was a mullah (Islamic religious leader) there who encouraged us to engage in Sighe, a sort of "short" marriage, blessed by a mullah, that only lasts between a man and woman for a certain period of time (from two months to one year). [The orphanages in Iran are mostly filled with children from these kinds of "marriages."] So I did. But after a couple of these Sighe, something inside me told me, "Don't you know anything about Jesus? Why are you doing this?" So I decided to walk separately from my friends. It was difficult because I was in the army.

When I got out of the army, I went to Turkey. I didn't know there was an Iranian church in Turkey. I'd never been to church because my employer was afraid to bring me to a church back in Iran. [It is forbidden for Muslims to enter a church or for Christians to speak about their faith to Muslims.] After I had been in Turkey for 4 years, I was walking in the open-air market with my wife when I saw a man and a woman approaching us. They had heard us speaking Farsi. They gave us a book called What Is Christianity?and invited us to the church. I had talked to my wife prior to that about Christianity and my employer, and she was interested in Christianity too, but she didn't know anything about it. So we were so glad to find the church in Istanbul. We went to the church and Sister Gity from England was there. That was our first day in church. We were so impressed. After ten months, we saw the fruit of Jesus in our lives. We also saw a lot of miracles in our child's birth. So we decided to give our lives to Jesus and ask Him to use us and live in us. Last year, we got baptized.

I want to share some of the things that have happened since I've believed in Jesus. Recently, my wife was sick because she was alone because we had been separated for so long. She was so depressed that she couldn't move half of her body. She couldn't sleep at all for a whole week. It was during the First Timothy Project, and Brother Themis asked us to all pray for each other. Brother Sam prayed for me. Two days later, when I came back to Athens from attending the Project, I called Iran. It was 10 o'clock at night, and I woke my wife. She told me that she had been able to sleep for two days, from exactly the time that Sam prayed for her. I thank God for that.

I believe that all of our problems can be taken to God by faith. I wish for all the believers to refresh their spirits with faith and prayers. And I pray for unbelievers to open their hearts to have Jesus' love and peace inside. The Grace of our God, Jesus Christ, be with you forever.

"E"'s Story

Finally, a Purpose!

Into this universe, and why not knowing, nor whence, like water willy-nilly flowing:
and out of it, as wind along the waste, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
- Omar Khayam, Rubaiyyat"

As a boy in Iran, I dreamt big. I grew up in a military base, where my father served as an officer in the Iranian Army. Ours was an orderly life, filled with predictable days and practical goals. I was a good kid and I did what was expected of me. I was also ambitious and saw everything as a great adventure. I loved to run through the fields and race through the soldiers' obstacle courses; a small warrior conquering imaginary enemies.

But as I grew up I became restless. I felt confined in that military base and my dreams spilled over the walls. Alone at night, I dreamt of leaving Iran and of traveling to faraway countries. I also dreamt of victory, of freedom, and of great experiences of many types. But beneath these goals was a deeper dream: to find my purpose. I thought that I could achieve this through escape and success, so I was driven by my dream and determined to make it real.

Every dream requires a first step, and my first step was to go to university. I graduated with a degree in English, then taught in Tehran. Soon I'd saved enough money to take another step toward my dream: leaving Iran. After four failed attempts, I finally crossed the border into Turkey. I headed to Istanbul, found a job, and met other Iranians who also dreamt of going west. We were young, energetic and confident. Together, we planned our escape to Greece.

Going to Greece was a dream but the journey was a nightmare. We took a boat and then walked for a week, growing wearier every day from the cold and hunger. En route, we were falsely accused us of goat stealing and I used most of my money to pay off the accuser. Finally, we stumbled into Athens, rented a room in Omonia, and set off to find work.

Slowly, each of us found jobs and settled down. I didn't like being in Athens, though, so I kept myself busy by working, learning English and saving money to buy fake passports. Armed with these, I was free to leave Greece. I bought the passports but needed money for tickets, so I continued working. But I couldn't save money. I was getting discouraged and felt that my dream was fading. What did the future hold? Would I be a refugee in Athens forever?

During this time, a friend invited me to a Christian church. Having nothing better to do, I went. I didn't know much about Christianity, but like most Muslims, I'd heard that Jesus was a prophet. To me, He was a myth, like Ali Baba.

But as I walked into the church, I could see that the Christians had a very different idea. To them He was real, and He was everything. I watched, amazed, as they praised Him joyfully and prayed to Him lovingly. They seemed to know Him as a friend, and yet they spoke of Him as God. Several told how Jesus had saved them and had given their lives a purpose. They called Jesus their Savior and their Lord.

Their Savior? I didn't understand why these people needed to be saved or how a myth could give them purpose. To me, the Christians' dependence on Jesus was a weakness and their enthusiasm was foolish. I looked down on their naiveté.

But then something happened that melted my defenses: the pastor began to speak. He spoke of God in a way I had never heard. And he spoke of Him so passionately and pragmatically that I wanted to hear more.

First, the pastor said that God loves us. He read from the Injil, "God so loved the world that He gave His only son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not die but will have eternal life." (John 3:16) The pastor said that one of the names for God is "Abba", the Hebrew word that small children use to address their fathers. He said that God loves His children more tenderly than the most attentive father on earth.

He said that God is a good father who wants to give His children a wonderful life. He read from the Injil: "I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly," (John 10:10). Like a good father, God has a plan for His children. "For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11) Furthermore, God loves us so much that He offers us the gift of spending Eternity with Him in Heaven.

All of this seemed too good to be true. God loves me? God has good plans for my life? God wants to give me a future and a hope, and spend Eternity with me? I wanted to know more. If God loved me and had a plan for my life, how could I feel that love and find that purpose? How could I become the child of such a wonderful Father?
Perhaps, I thought, I had never known God's love and plan because I hadn't tried hard enough to please Him. Perhaps I could become His child by working harder or by living a perfect life.

Yes, said the pastor, perfection was necessary. But none of us can be perfect. Even if we follow religious rules, perform good deeds, fast, and go on pilgrimage, we still won't be holy. We are sinners, said the pastor, and our sin separates us from God. The Injil makes this clear: "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23); "As it is written, 'There is none righteous, not even one." (Romans 3:10); and "All our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment." (Isaiah 64:6).

I had never considered myself a sinner. In fact, I thought I was a good person. But if good deeds couldn't save me and make me right with God, what was the answer?

The answer, said the pastor, is Jesus. Jesus can save us because Jesus is more than a good prophet; Jesus is God's perfect Son. He died on the cross and rose from the dead to pay the debt for our sins. When Jesus was dying on the cross, his final word was "tetelestai", a Greek phrase meaning "the debt has been paid, the work is finished." If a person believes in Jesus, God forgives his sins, adopts him as His child, and promises him Heaven after death (I John 5:11-13).

When the pastor finished speaking, he invited us to pray. I didn't pray. But the next week, I went back to that church. I arrived early and saw several young people kneeling in prayer. Suddenly, my spirit was moved and I burst into tears. I was so embarrassed that I ran into the bathroom to hide.

As I wept, my vision cleared and I felt as though a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I knew then that God loved me, and that I needed Jesus. I knew then that I could spend the rest of my life running from country to country in search of purpose and peace, but that only Jesus could make my dream real. I prayed and told Jesus everything, and then asked Him to be my Lord and my Savior.

Since then, God has given me my deepest desire: great peace, and a purpose higher than any I could have imagined. I know that because of Jesus, I am God's child and my sins are forgiven. I was restless and afraid for my future, but now I know that God is leading me. I may not get everything I want, but God will give me everything I need. I now have the greatest purpose on earth: the privilege of serving my Savior and God. And when I die, I will see Him face-to-face and spend Eternity with Him. Now that is an adventure.

I traveled the world and finally found my home in Jesus. When I doubted my fate, God had a purpose behind every step of my refugee journey. I believe that God called me to travel west, to come to Athens, to attend the Christian church, to hear about Jesus and to believe in Him.

Before I knew God, He knew me and loved me. Before I heard Him, He was calling me.

I believe that He is calling you, too. Will you answer?

"D" 's Testimony

A New Life

When someone becomes a Christian, he becomes a new person inside.
He is not the same any more. A new life has begun!
- II Corinthians 5:17

As a young man in Afghanistan, I knew something about Jesus. Like other Muslims, I thought He was a special prophet and an amazing person. I respected Him and even believed that He rose from the dead, but I didn't believe that He was God.

Gradually, my interest in Jesus grew and my ideas changed. This began when I had a dream about Jesus. I'd been thinking about my future, and told my parents that I wanted to change my religion and leave Afghanistan. You can imagine how they responded! They said the same thing that your parents would have said: They told me I was crazy. I had been a very religious Muslim so they couldn't understand my change of heart; but they loved me and didn't forbid my pursuits.

Then I had a second dream: I dreamt that I left Afghanistan, converted to Christianity, and was being baptized in the sea. This dream was really outrageous since I had little hope of escaping Afghanistan and no reason to change religions. But that dream never left me and it kept my interest in Jesus alive.

When I was 17 years old, I rejected Islam and began searching for another religion. Some of my friends who knew of my search called me an atheist.

But Afghanistan is not the place for religious experimentation. I knew that if I wanted to learn more about Jesus, I would need to leave my country. To prepare me for the journey, my sister's husband suggested that I learn English. My parents, who had never learned to read their own language, cheered me on. If my dream of leaving Afghanistan became real, I wanted to be ready.

As I studied, something wonderful happened: I met an American family of Christians in Afghanistan. They welcomed me like a son and soon I could see that their lives were different. They were honest, gracious, and full of hope. I was attracted to their optimism and wondered how I could find the same joy. In those days, as I dreamt about the future and tried to find the truth, I felt as if there might be a door through which I could walk to begin a new life. I didn't know how to find that door, but I felt that these Christians were closer to it than anyone I'd ever met before.

I loved that family and wanted to become like them. I though that I could do this by going to America. I asked the mother how I might accomplish this. It isn't easy, she said. Go step by step. If God wants you to go to America, He'll lead you there.

Step by step, my journey began. From Afghanistan, I went to Pakistan, and then on to Iran. There, my curiosity about Jesus grew. How could I find out more about this forbidden faith? I found my answer in an unlikely place: on the street. As I wandered in the markets, I saw a vendor selling Bibles. I bought one and marveled that I hadn't been caught, since buying Bibles is illegal for Muslims in Iran.

I began to devour that Bible, reading first the Old and then the New Testaments. Much of what I read mystified me but I continued my search. I tried to attend a Christian church in Iran, but the Christians feared that I was a Muslim and wouldn't let me enter the building. I waited outside, tried to listen to the message, and then went on my way.

As I traveled west, other significant events helped me to understand more about Jesus. In Iran, I saw a movie that claimed that He was the Son of God, and that He died on the cross to pay the price for the sins of the world. When I arrived in Turkey, I went to Catholic and Orthodox churches and learned a bit more.

When I arrived in Athens, my search took on a new urgency. I slept in Alexandreas Park for two months and was relieved when someone there told me about Helping Hands in Omonia. At Helping Hands, I ate soup and met other guys my age who were traveling west. I went to the English and Bible lessons, and I liked the friendly Christians who ran the center.

I especially liked the Bible teacher. I learned many good things about Jesus and got a clearer understanding of the Bible by attending his classes. The teacher told us often that Jesus could give a person a new life. He read from the Injil: When someone becomes a Christian he becomes a new person inside. He is not the same any more. while going to America might give me a better life, knowing Jesus would give me the best life.

That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, so I took matters into my own hands. I joined a group of men who planned to go to Italy. As we waited for the ferry boat in Patra, a woman approached me and handed me a book about Jesus. I was stunned. There are hundreds of people here in the crowd, I thought to myself. Why did she give this book to me?

Meanwhile, passengers were boarding the ferry boat and my friends urged me to follow them. But I realized that I didn't want to follow them, and felt an urge to return to Athens. I was sure that an important encounter awaited me there, and so I returned alone as my friends sailed west.

When I got back to Omonia, I marched into Helping Hands. I told the Bible teacher about the woman in Patra and said that I wanted to become a Christian. The Bible teacher listened patiently and then asked me why I wanted to change my religion. Do you want to become a Christian to go to America, or to know Jesus? he asked.

That was a hard question, and I didn't know the answer. I realized that my motives were mixed. I asked God to show me which religion I should choose. Oh God, I prayed, Show me the way! Soon I had a third dream: I dreamt of the cross of Christ, and I heard Jesus say, I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father, but through me. (John 14:6).

Shortly after that, the Bible teacher asked me to translate some of the Koran into English. As I read the passage describing Jesus' birth, I compared the Koran's account with the Injil's, and was convinced that Jesus wasn't only a prophet, but the Son of God who came to earth to die for my sins and to give me a new life.

That moment of belief was the important encounter that awaited me in Athens -- the most important encounter of my life. Soon I was baptized in the sea, thus fulfilling my boyhood dream.

What have I gained from following Jesus? First, joy. I'm very happy because I know that Jesus has saved me from the sins that should have condemned me. I'm also happy because through Jesus, I can know God, and can talk to Him like a son. God also encourages me during the hard times when the realities of the world bring me pain. Last year, for example, I had a bad accident in Athens and I was tempted to doubt God. But I learned that suffering builds my faith.

Trusting Jesus as my Savior has also helped my attitude. Before I was a Christian, I was a good, hard worker who minded the law. But I was also very proud and I judged other people harshly. Now I am humbled that Jesus took the punishment for my sins and that I am only saved by His grace. God has given me love for my enemies, patience, and the peace that my life is safe in His hands.

One of my favorite stories in the Injil is the story of Jesus and the demoniac who lived among the tombs. The man, tormented by demons and darkness, was hopeless. But Jesus healed him and gave him a new life. Before he left the man, Jesus said to him, Return to your house and describe what great things God has done for you. The man went away, proclaiming throughout the whole city what great things Jesus had done for him (Luke 8:38, 39).

I feel like that man! Jesus has given me a new life, and He can give you a new life, too.

As you read this, I am somewhere in Italy, or perhaps I am even further in my journey. I don't know if I'll ever see America, but that isn't important to me now. I have found the Door to a new life, and His name is Jesus.


Scott and Vicki McCracken
Panagiotou 3
Papagou 15669
Athens, Greece

Tel: (30) 210-65-28-191
E-mail: scott.mccracken@iteams.org
Web: www.ITRefugeeMinistry.org
(click "TEAMS", click "ATHENS)

Sunday, April 23, 2006

"Q" 's Testimony

"Q" 's Testimony (March 2002)

I knew about Christianity when I lived in Iran. I met a lot of Christians there, and they had many good characteristics that drew me toward them. There is a big difference between Christians and Muslims, their behavior, their speech, everything. It's very easy to tell if someone is a Christian or a Muslim. The Christians act like they have been in God's presence. But everyone knows that, in Iran, if you go to church or ask questions about Christianity, it's dangerous...you risk your life. There is no way to learn more about it. Still, I wanted to learn all I could about Christianity.

Two years ago, I left Iran. I wasn't escaping from any particular, big problem (unfortunate for my case file story when applying in other countries for asylum). I just wanted freedom. In Iran, there is no freedom; everything involves religion. They stop your mouth with religion...you must keep your own thoughts in your own head or else worry that you will get in trouble.

I was there three years ago when the elections led to huge student demonstrations in Tehran, and I saw the way the protestors were treated. I watched demonstrators being arrested, people who have never been heard from since. I watched twelve and thirteen year old boys...children...beating the protestors, not knowing anything except what they had been taught about religion. This is the way animals act, not people.

So I left Iran for Turkey. When I had been there one month, I heard from some Christian friends of mine back in Iran, who told me there was an Iranian church there in Istanbul. So I went because I was curious. I loved Christian people and their behavior. I wanted to steal their characteristics but not their religion; I wanted to be like them but not one of them. I didn't want to change my religion.

Reza, one of my friends in Istanbul, told me he wanted to go to church one Sunday and asked if I would go with him, and I told him I would. It happened to be a baptism day. (My friend didn't tell me it was HIS baptism day!) At this church in Turkey, they wore white robes and had a special ceremony, baptizing inside the church building. I was Muslim, and my friend had been Muslim. It was a huge testimony to me that he would change his religion. He asked me, "Do you want to change your clothes and be baptized too?"

I told him, "I think you're homesick and alone, and that's why you are changing your religion, because these people have accepted you." I was very angry with him. But he didn't listen to me. I was sad that he was so lost.

When the congregation was singing, the worship songs were printed out on sheets of paper, and I followed along with the words, but the paper shook because my hands were trembling. I loved the way the people prayed with joy instead of weeping. They could dance for their God instead of flaying themselves until they bled, like good Muslims do. I wanted to be able to pray to God with joy, too, not sadness.

I stayed until the end of the service when the baptism took place, but I was sad. Even so, the next week I told my friend I would go to church with him again. I decided, "If the questions I will ask get answered, then I will come again." I went to the church for five months, every week...a regular member, attending Bible studies and Sunday morning services. In the Bible class, I always told the teacher, "If you say anything about the Koran, you must bring me a translation so I can read it for myself. And if you say anything about the Bible, I want a translation of the verses you quote too." Mahmud, another student in the class, said, "You should first think about the question and see if you can figure out the answer yourself before you ask." As I was reading Genesis, I would be asking a question, and the answer would suddenly occur to me. As time went on, I could answer my own questions, as if something were pushing or helping me along the way.

Whenever we had class, I would always sit in a place where no one could see me from the street, but Mahmud told me that people would eventually find out and treat me badly. My roommates wondered what I did three times a week, even on my day off when I left the house well dressed. When I went to the church, it was the only time I wouldn't invite my roommates out with me. The house that we had, we rented in my name and another guy's name, but other people lived there too. One day, my roommates followed me on my way to church. One of my best friends came into the church and saw me there. He sat next to me and said, "I'm sorry for you." After the service, I knew that, if I went home, my roommates and friends would not treat me the same, that they might do something to me. Before, my best friend had given me a blanket, but when I got home, he was sleeping under it and had left me a note that said, "I'm sorry that it's cold, but I can't do anything about it." My roommates teased me unmercifully. The house was like a prison for me. I had rented the house in my name, but now I wanted to leave it. Still, somehow, I didn't treat them like I might have treated them before. Instead, I wanted to help them. God was working in me. Slowly, he brought me to forgive my best friend and other old roommates for their attitude and behavior. They tried their best to make me angry, but I think God gave me the power to treat them with love in exchange for their ridicule.

Reza, my friend who first brought me to church, wasn't around much because he was trying to get into Greece. I tried myself unsuccessfully to go to Greece three or four times. I didn't want to live in Turkey. I wanted to live in a better country, a land where I could work. One day I saw Reza, and he told me that he had found a new way to get to Greece, by the sea. We bought a plastic boat that was so cheap you could poke a hole in it with your finger. Nevertheless, we were determined to paddle across the Mediterranean in it.

We put the boat in the water and immediately lost one of the oars. I said, "We have to go back."

"Don't worry," said Reza, "God will help us."

"It's one in the morning! It's impossible!" I answered. But in five minutes we had found the missing oar. I was afraid because the weather was windy and the waves were too big. I told Reza, "I want to live!" But Reza encouraged me to keep paddling. We were in the sea for four and a half hours. We tried to get closer to our destination, but the wind just blew us back. Our arms were tired, we couldn't row anymore, but we called on God to help us. Suddenly, twenty meters away, a big ship was coming toward us. I said, "Okay, now we will die, because the ship is coming toward us, and we don't have any more strength to paddle away." Instead, the ship missed us by five meters, but the people on board didn't see us, and we didn't even get caught in the wake...instead it helped us go further. We had prayed, and God had helped us. We paddled with our feet and hands and finally got to Greece at six in the morning.

I decided to get baptized. We heard that there was a church in Greece that could do it. I told Reza that this was my new goal, to get baptized. When I arrived in Athens, I had a friend who told me about a Christian place called Helping Hands. We came together to attend the Baptism classes because I wanted to be baptized. I even translated for the teacher. I was finally baptized one day at a nearby beach, and was baptized with the Holy Spirit the same day.

My life has changed very much since I've become a Christian, my behavior, my speech, my attitude toward other human beings, the ability to feel their problems...many things. When I got baptized I felt clean andI was very happy. I try not to have sin in my life anymore. I ask God to guide me Himself. I don't know what the future holds, but I hope that I will be able to start a new life in a new place.

I live in one of Helping Hands' Nests. Even so, in Greece, I have many problems. I hate being called a "refugee." It is very difficult to find work, and even more difficult to leave for another European country. But at least I am free...politically and spiritually.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

"Iranian M" 's Story

I am from Iran. I left my home country because I wanted to go to university and it is very difficult to get accepted there. Out of the one million people who take the entrance exam each year, only 100,000 are accepted. I also wanted to find a good surgeon to operate on my foot, which hurts.

I left Iran for Turkey, legally with my passport. Then I made several unsuccessful attempts to enter Greece from Turkey by walking across the border, but I was finally able to come by paying a smuggler to take me on a big ship; that worked very well. I made my way to Athens, where I moved into a downtown house packed with Kurdish people. The rent was only $36 a month, but it was a dirty, old, decrepit building that shook whenever you walked in it. A Greek man leased each room to a different Kurd, who then sublet his room to as many people he could squeeze inside. There were three floors, six rooms on each floor, and twelve or more people in each room. There were about 270 people living in this one building! There was only one bathroom for one hundred people, and all of us had to shower to go to work, but there was never any hot water. I stayed there for a month and a half and tried to learn Kurdish, but it took me until the day I left to be able to communicate in it.

I found a job the very first day I came to Athens. Finding a job was essential because my family could not possibly send me enough money with which to survive. My first day, I got paid twelve dollars for two hours of work. I thought to myself, I can make good money working here, so why should my family have to send me anything? I decided to work in Athens and repay the money my mother had borrowed from the bank for me. Then I decided that I could get even better work in another country.

But the next day, I couldn't find a job anywhere. The following day was a Sunday, and a friend told me there was a place that offered free English classes. When class was over, I came out and heard Nader preaching in Farsi and discovered that a church meeting was taking place. My friend was from Kurdistan and couldn't speak Farsi. I told him, "Let's go sit and see what's going on here."

But he said, "Oh, it's all garbage about Christianity." I told him that I didn't know much about Christianity and I was curious to learn more. But he told me that listening was unclean and that God would curse me. I responded that I wanted to sit there and know more and increase my knowledge. Didn't our Prophet say the same thing, that to increase your knowledge, you should be willing to go as far as China? So why should I go to China if I can sit right here? So he sat with me, unable to argue with that.

Nader was preaching about all of the difficulties of life, and all my hardships came to my mind. As I sat there, I prayed that God would find a job for me. I told God, it doesn't matter where I am, in a mosque or a church, I can still ask you. It's your house, and if you answer my prayer, I promise I will come to wherever your house truly is.

When the service was over, I wanted to leave, but I realized they were serving Iranian food afterward. The food was horrible! A man named Hamzeh, who didn't know how to cook very well, had prepared the food. It was so bad, that I couldn't eat. Later, when I had become friends with Hamzeh, I told him so. (He is getting better at cooking now.)

After that day, I found a job very quickly. Since then, I have worked the whole time I have been in Greece. The first five months, my employer paid me. But the last two months, even though I have worked hard despite my painful foot, he has refused to pay me, offering only to give me a third of what he owed me "as a gift." I am still trying to get him to give me what he owes me.

The first time I came to Helping Hands, I didn't know what they offered... food, English classes, etc... From the first day, I sat because I wanted to learn more about Christianity. It wasn't until the next Sunday that I came again, because I had been working the whole week. I tried to find out about more classes about Christianity and then attended all the Bible classes and some of the English classes, but the Bible class was more important to me. I tried to take time off from my job when the Bible studies were going on. My knowledge increased about Christianity little by little. When all the Kurds I lived with found out that I was coming to Bible classes, they told me Aybeh, aybeh, "No good, no good. Christianity is heretical and all the people are infidels." I couldn't give them answers or proof, only calm them down. I took a Bible from Helping Hands, but I hid it in my suitcase so no one would see it. But they found out when they searched the suitcase and found it.

I didn't work at Helping Hands at that time. I asked God to use me as his servant somehow. The only way I knew how to serve was to come and grow in Jesus. One Sunday, Hamzeh called me. From that day, I started to help him in the kitchen each week. My life in the house was very difficult, them fighting with me all the time about Christianity, so I packed my suitcase one night at eleven at night. I lived on the 3rd floor, and the people in one of the rooms on the 1st floor told me they would not let me leave to sleep in the park that night, so I spent the night with them. I stayed in their room for two weeks. I didn't have any choice because I didn't know any Iranians with whom to rent a house. I found one place, but the people there told me I had to pay a $500 deposit and then the rent. I had the salary to pay the rent but not enough for the deposit. One Sunday, I came to church and asked Nader to pray so that God would solve my problems about a place to stay, to provide an apartment. I was searching everywhere for an apartment I could afford. One day I was in Bible study, and brother Themis called Nader over to translate and said, "I hear you have problems with housing." I thought, "He has found a house I can rent." But he told me about a shelter where we could live and leave our clothes, a place called The Nest. In this way God helped me a lot so that I could send money to my parents instead of using it to pay rent. Three months later I accepted Jesus in my life in that house. I can say I believed in Jesus from the beginning, but it wasn't with strong faith. Those three months in that house helped strengthen me in my faith so that I could say I believe in Jesus.

I asked to be baptized with the next group who was going to be baptized, but the baptism teacher and his translator wouldn't let me because they thought I wasn't ready. I was really upset, because there were people being baptized that had been believers for a shorter time than I had, so why should they have papers to prove their belief? But the teacher asked me to attend the next baptism class, and after the class it was really funny that I received my baptism certificate one day earlier than the people in the group ahead of me!

As for the future, I want to go to Canada and attend university. I think God wants to train me by sending me to university and helping me learn more about him so I can be his servant. I want to go to a Christian university. But if God wants me here in Greece, I could go to university here. I believe God has a call on my life, but I don't know what it is yet.

I can say that the good attitudes of the team helped me to grow in my faith. I have problems, but I ask God to help me, and I know he will.

"F" 's Story

The Testimony of " F"

I was born in a religious family. I started to use drugs when I was fifteen years old. When my family found out, I left home, but after some months I returned to my family. My life has certainly been an adventure. It was incredible how I came to Greece. It was really a miracle. On my first day in Greece, I went to Helping Hands. It was around two o'clock. There, we watched the Jesus film with four people, one of whom was Nader. Nader said that Jesus is the Son of God. That made me angry, so I left saying, "They made a son for God." After that day, Nader and I met many times, but we could not understand each other.

At that time, I lived with two Kurds from Iraq. They believed that the bread served at Helping Hands is unclean. They said if you eat bread in a bar it is better than eating it there, so they didn't let me go to Helping Hands. When we gathered together at night, we talked about Nader and what he said about Jesus. We were so angry because we couldn't find any answers to his challenging questions! We decided to get some more friends, go find Nader, and beat him up to the point of needing a long hospital stay.

Our house was near an area full of factories which produce various alcoholic drinks. Every night we went and stole from the factories and we drank until morning. We slept with homeless women from Albania and Hungary. We even used drugs! One night, we were drunk and we went to a bar. Around one o'clock one of us took off his clothes and started to dance without any clothes on. (The bar owners called the police.) We fought with the police and we broke everything there. Then we went back home and used opium until morning.

One day, we went to Helping Hands and heard a sermon preached by an English pastor who was visiting Athens. He could speak Farsi and we met him afterwards. His name was Malcolm. We went into a classroom and talked about the Koran and Christianity, but we didn't understand each other.

After Malcolm returned to England, I talked with Nader several more times. I wanted to know more about Jesus and what it meant that he was the Son of God. Nader told me to go and read the Bible for myself instead of listening only to him, so I did. I left my previous house and moved in with a communist named Khaled. We read the Bible together. At the same time, we found a lot of information about many religions. We also had a lot of immigration problems. We decided we would do anything we could to solve our immigration problem. Khaled and I went to a seeker's class at Helping Hands. After that, we went to a Baptism class. Each time I went to the Baptism class, I used a different name. One night, Khaled and I prayed together. I said, "Lord, please show yourself to me and show me your true way." After that night, I have had no desire to do drugs or steal things.

I began to believe in Jesus with all of my heart. And my roommate and I began to ask for only the things that we needed. That is the feeling which all believers in Jesus have. I have experienced it. Jesus came into my life as my saviour and my God. We read the Bible every day and I go to church every week. I've prayed in church and He answered all of my prayers quickly. I prayed for a place to live and he gave me one. I am free now from my sins and I am not the same person I was before because Jesus has changed me. I found hope and eternal life through Him. I have given up smoking completely because I now believe that my body is the home of the Holy Spirit. I would like to thank Brother Scott, Themis, Ilir, Nader and all the sisters here. I ask God to bless them.

Our Lord Jesus Christ be with you forever,
"F", from Iran

"Nh" 's Story

April 10, 2006
The following was written by our Iranian co-worker Nader...
In the Tea House Ministry...
Joel 2:28 - "And it shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out My Spirit on all flesh; Your sons and your daughter shall prophesy, Your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions; and also on My manservants and on My maidservants I will pour out My Spirit in those days."

It was Thursday, same as any other day we are open at the A.R.C. Before we open the door we have a prayer time. Scott said, "Time to talk to Father!" And in that time we are prayng for the people who are lost to come to know Him. And for several months we are praying for the Arabic-speakers to come to the Lord. Recently, an Iraqi came to Jesus and continues to grow in Him, but on this particular day God answered our prayers again.

Another Iraqi guy came to the Lord and told us his story. His story will show you how God is working among the refugees, and also how in this ministry we need His active presence, and apart from Him we are nothing.

"Nh" is from northern Iraq. He was a communist and his father was a fanatic Muslim. They were always arguing about God and His existence. Here is his story in his own words...

"I left Iraq for many reasons, and I went to Iran. After one year I left Iran and went to Pakistan and applied for political asylum. They accepted me at the United Nations, and they gave me a small salary but my life was insecure. Many Islamic groups have activity there and many of them invited me to their meetings and spent time with me. But they were not successful. I never accepted that God exists and I thought for myself to have a good life and come to Europe.

10 days after I arrived Greece, I became very sick. I was shaking, coughing, with fever and I couldn't eat nor drink. It was difficult even to swallow. My roommates brought me medicine but it did not work. I thought I was going to die.

After 7 days in bed, I saw a dream. A voice said, "Open your eyes and look up." In my dream I opened my eyes and looked up. Somebody was standing there with a white robe shining bright around him. He told me, "If you want to get up from that bed, you should open your eyes and stop what you're doing. If you want to be healed, you should follow me." He showed me a beautiful garden, and he said, "If you want to experience this garden you should be my disciple." And I asked him, "Who are you? What is your name?" And He said, "I am the Christ. He said, "There is no other name in heaven or earth for salvation except Me. Whatever you have, leave and follow me. If you please the earth, the earth will please you. If you please me, I will please you." MANY things He said to me, and in the end He put his hand on my head and said, "Peace be with you." And I woke up.

When I woke up I was sweating and started to cry. Not from sadness, not because of pain, but crying with PEACE and JOY in my heart! After I told my roommates (who are communists like I was), they could not believe it! They said, "Go back to sleep--you have a high fever".

A couple of days later, I woke up from my bed and told my friends again that I saw Jesus! And I told them the things He said to me. I promised Him that I would follow Him so I needed to find out from the Christians how to do that. I went to the Orthodox Church and I did not find the answer. An Iraqi friend told me to go to the "American church" (Helping Hands is frequently called the American church by the refugees). So I came here to ask some questions. What did He mean when He said, 'Follow Me?' What does it mean to be disciple of His? How can I be good disciple? Who is really Jesus? How can I know Him better? What did this dream mean?"

Eddy from the short-term team and I gave him the information about the Truth of Jesus, and Scott also joined us in the conversation. He accepted what we shared with him and prayed to receive Jesus! We were also able to show him places in the Bible that echoed the words Jesus had spoken to him in his dream. "Nh" said that he had never read the Bible before. We prayed for him and gave him Bibles in a few of the languages he speaks. He asked for more Bibles for his friends who live with him.

The next opening day Tea House, he brought with him TWO MORE people and they all attended the Bible study, and then stayed after to talk with me about the Bible! On Sunday, at Persian Christian Fellowship, he came with his two friends! They are hungry for the Truth. He told me, "All that I heard from you in the preaching was very new to me. I have never heard that."

He has never read the Bible but the Word spoke to him in His dream. We have an amazing God! We are seeing the wonderful works of God among the refugees. He is always adding souls to be saved for His glory. Apart from Him we can do nothing. He alone is worthy to be praised. For to Him alone belongs all the glory, all the power. Once again we see that the Lord is the one working in this ministry to refugees.

"R" 's Testimony

"R" ’s Testimony, March ‏2002‏‏-‏03‏‏-‏28‏

I am from Iraq, but from the time I was six years old, I have lived as a refugee in Iran. My father was a Kurdish rebel. I lived in Iran for 29 years. My wife is Iranian. My three children are Iranian. But when I asked the Iranian government for citizenship, I was rejected. I asked them to issue me a passport, but they wouldn’t. I wasn’t even allowed to leave the country and travel. I couldn’t buy anything, like a house or a car, because I was not allowed to work. I had to go to the police and re-register as a refugee, every three months…for 29 years! I even tried to go to Iraq to get an ID card, but the Iraqi officials told me that I was not registered in Iraq, that they had no idea who I was. I have no nationality.

I wanted to be able to support my family, so I left Iran illegally. I walked, shared a horse, even paid a smuggler, and finally got to Greece.

When I came to Athens, I was looking for a place to eat, a place that provided food for refugees. I slept in the park. My friends I met there told me about a place they called “The American Church” (but I found out later it is called Helping Hands). They told me I could get food there, but the first time I came, Scott wouldn’t let us in. The place was already full. The next week, I was able to get in, and little by little I met the different people who worked there. And after a while, I started coming to help, and I became a regular volunteer. I don’t know why, but something was prodding me to help. I was going to go to Italy, but God didn’t want me to go. There was a seekers’ class, and I went there to ask questions. I wanted to know more about Christianity, because I was curious. While I was asking questions, I was also translating for the other people, from Farsi, the language of Iran, to Kurdish, the language of the area of Iraq where I was born.

I didn’t want to become a Christian, but Helping Hands gave me a place to stay, even though I wasn’t one. It was one of the rules of the house to go to Bible studies and discipleship lessons, so I went obediently. Little by little, I learned more about Christianity, and the more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I started to love going to class, instead of just going because I had to. I read the Bible. Then I started to pray, talking to my God, and I asked Him to show me the right way, the true way. I found reality in the Bible, so I believed in it. But nothing special happened in my life to change me. In Islam, I was taught that if you did bad things, God would send you straight to hell when you died, and God was not a God of love, but of fear and wrath. But when I read the Bible, I discovered that God is a God of love. So I chose the God of love instead of the God of fear.

I have tried to go to Italy ten times. I tried different methods, different smugglers. I used to want to live like I lived before, to be a Muslim as I was. I wanted to go to Italy and then on to another country and apply for refugee status there and continue my daily life. I didn’t know that being a Christian means that I can have God close to me.

I am convinced Scott is preventing me from going to Italy until I attend the Timothy Project, (a weekend retreat with other new believers held outside Athens). I made him promise that he would pray I could go to Italy after I came.

I haven’t told my family that I believe in Jesus. If I told my parents, they would probably kill me. It’s possible that the love of parents would keep them from killing me, but they would disown me from their family, my brothers and sisters as well. I don’t know what my wife will do. She is a very good Muslim. I think I can only tell my wife after she comes to join me in the new land where we will live. Perhaps I will drop hints first. I will tell her I am a Christian, present her with all the information, and then let her decide.

God help me, I want to go to a country where I can live as a human being with human rights. I can’t live in Iraq, because I have never lived with guns, and I can’t live that way. I want to live somewhere where I will have freedom, where I can live like a normal person. I want to bring my family there, legally. I miss them so much. I used to be very depressed before I became a Christian, sad because I was away from my family. But now I have peace.

"S's" Testimony

"S" 's Testimony
I was born in Tehran, Iran into a very wealthy family. My father was not religious at all, and his skepticism rubbed off on me. I even had to attend a private high school (made up of mostly Christian students) so that I would not get in trouble at the public high school. My Armenian Christian classmates would ask me questions about my religion, questions I could not answer. I was interested in learning more about Christianity and even attended my friend's sister's wedding just so I could see the inside of a church building.

One day an American woman wandered into the expansive enclosure around our house. I was surprised to see that anyone had managed to get by the four guards, not to mention the guard dogs, that usually watched our gate. She was lost, so I walked her back to the street and pointed her in the direction of the address she was seeking. "Thank you," she said, "and, here, I have something for you." She gave me a New Testament in Farsi, my native tongue. When I asked about her later, no one in the area had seen her or knew anything about her.

The New Testament sat on a shelf in my room for a long time before I finally picked it up one night after discussions about Christianity with my classmates. I began at the beginning of Matthew and read straight through. When I got to Mark, I realized that it was telling the same story, but I couldn't put it down. When I had finished John, I realized it was four o'clock in the morning!

This Jesus character fascinated me, and I wanted to learn all I could about him. One day I telephoned my cousin and told her I wanted to talk to her about something interesting. I stuck my New Testament and a book criticizing Islam, which my friends at school had given me, into my bag and left for her house. I would always take a cab when I went to see her, but this time I walked. I was stopped by the religious police, who investigated my bag. Then they immediately arrested me.

When my father found out, he went to the police station and talked to the guard on duty. "How much do you make in a year?" he asked the young soldier. The guard told him. "How would you like four times that amount right now?" The guard released me.
Since we had been to Greece before on vacation, it was not very difficult to get a tourist visa. My father gave his half of his factory to his partner. My father, mother, and I got on a flight to Athens three days after I was arrested.

Life suddenly became very difficult. We lived with my uncle's family and worked in his restaurant. Three months after we first came to Athens, I realized I would never be able to return home. Around that time, my uncle cheated my father out of his money, and one of my cousins in Iran died. I was tired of living and tried to kill myself twice, but both times I was interrupted.

The next day after my second attempt, I passed by the First Evangelical Church of Athens and saw the cross and remembered why I had come to Athens in the first place. I came home and announced that I would be attending church that Sunday. To my surprise, both of my parents said they would come with me. From that day, the three of us attended church every Sunday, starting with Sunday school at ten o'clock.

Even though I went to church every Sunday, I was still afraid to change my religion, afraid of being the only Iranian to stop being Muslim to become a Christian. But one Sunday I met an American woman who said that she knew a lot of Iranians. I didn't believe her, but accepted her invitation to her English class at the Athens Refugee Center. The place was packed full of men, and I was scared I was the only woman there! Then the office door opened and one of the women who worked there asked, "Can I help you?" She took me to the English class, and, yes, there were many Iranians there. Afterward, the teacher introduced me to an Iranian who had converted from Islam to Christianity. I finally realized that I was free to listen to my heart.
When I got home, I prayed and said, "Okay, God, I've heard everything, now show me the truth. Which one is right? Show me who you really are." I fell asleep and had a dream, someone was telling me, I told you that I am the Truth and the Life and the Way. No one comes to the Father except by me. I woke up and cried and knew which one was true. In the morning I called my pastor and asked, "How can I get baptized?"

I continued coming to the English class at the A.R.C., and when my teacher left to return to America, I took over her class! In fact, I was getting very involved in volunteering at the A.R.C., despite telling myself I didn't need to go there anymore. Something inside me wouldn't let me stay away. It was there, working with other believers, that I discovered what it really meant to be a Christian, through their example.

I believe God has a call on my life to bring His truth to my people. Right now I am doing that by translating, teaching English classes, and developing relationships with Iranians (and Afghans!) here in Athens. Refugees are more open than people living in their homeland. But one day, when there is a second revolution in Iran and the government finally changes, I want to return to my country and tell people about Jesus. If they could only read the Bible for themselves, I am sure Iranians would see the truth about who God really is, just as He revealed Himself to me.

"H's" Story

"H" 's Testimony
August 2002

Seven years ago, I was an atheist. I didn't believe in any god. I said there was no god, and I had a lot of reasons for why he didn't exist for anyone who asked. Then I realized I was lying to myself, that there was an empty place in me, a hole that nothing could fill. I sinned a lot, and I wasn't happy sinning. I wanted to stop, but I didn't have the power. Every time I would do something wrong, I would tell myself, "You said you would stop! Why are you doing these things?"

Four years ago, I left Iran to look for a better life. That was my plan, but I'm sure with all my heart that God had a plan for me to bring me to Istanbul to meet Jesus.

I traveled to Turkey, my life constantly changing as I constantly traveled. I was living sometimes in the joys of the world and sometimes in its sadness, but everything I knew was of the world. Two and a half years later, I was still in Turkey, living in Istanbul. I had money, but I had a lot of troubles in my life too.

I was walking in the street with my friends one day when two Iranians came up to us and began talking about Jesus. That day was Sunday, and I went to a church that evening. First, it was very strange for me, worshiping God with joy and happiness. All of my life I'd thought, if you want to know God, his way is full of sadness, and he will drag you far from joy.

From Istanbul I moved to Ankara, staying there for a month. I didn't go to church the whole time. When I returned to Istanbul, I went back to the church. They gave me a Bible in Farsi. I started reading it, and when I got to the miracles and the love Jesus showed, his kindness made me cry. Simply seeing this love of Jesus in believers drew me closer to accepting Christianity. They helped me, even though they knew I wasn't one of them. That made me believe in what they did.

From the time I believed in Jesus and accepted him in my heart, he has changed my heart and life a lot. My actions, thoughts, and words were completely changed. I couldn't believe it. I wasn't the same person, immediately! I could feel that all of my sins were forgiven. I felt like God had given me clean clothes to wear. That feeling kept me from sinning, because I didn't want to get those beautiful clean clothes dirty. From that time on, when I prayed to God and asked him for something with all my heart, he answered my prayers.

I can tell a lot of ways that he answered my prayers. A month ago my father came to Istanbul on business. He is very old and frail and doesn't know how to read and write. He didn't know that I believed in Jesus, and I was sure that he didn't know that Jesus is God. I prayed one night with my friends, asking God, "God, show him and guide him, since he will not accept anything from me because I'm his son." The next night, I was sitting with my friends, two other believers and a nineteen-year-old unbeliever. At about midnight my father woke up and told us, "I had an amazing dream. It was very strange. I saw that they put God on a cross." My father continued, "I was asking myself, 'How could they put God on a cross? It's impossible!'"

I said, "Well, what was God? What did you see?"

"He was light, very strong light." We told him that Jesus was the Son of God, but he said, "How can a man be God?" But he went around telling everyone that he dreamed God was on a cross anyway. He's not a believer...yet.

The nineteen-year-old unbeliever, one of the five people living with us in one house, had come to Turkey to pass the examination to go to university, studying for his last year of high school. One day as he was going to class, he told me, "I didn't study for my exam this morning, and I knew I wouldn't pass because I didn't study, I started to pray, I don't know why, but I said, 'O Lord Jesus, you know I can't pass this exam because I didn't study, but help me,' and I was crying as I prayed." He was not a believer, but he was praying in Jesus' name.

He went to school for the exam, and the principle of the school told him, "Sorry, we didn't have your phone number to call you, but the exam is cancelled, and it will be next week instead." He wasn't a believer, but he told us about how Jesus had helped him! But the most amazing thing is that this nineteen-year-old's father in Iran heard all these stories, about his son as well as my father, and he accepted Jesus! He's now reading the Bible and going to church.

I wanted to come to Greece but I didn't know how or which way I should come. Two of my believer friends and I wanted to come together, so we decided to leave on a Sunday evening after church. On Saturday all of us fasted and prayed, "God help us. Where we should go, where we should stop, you be our leader, and we'll obey you." Saturday night, I saw in a dream somebody telling me, "You don't have to go Sunday evening. You should go Monday morning."

I told my dream to my friend Ali, and he said, "That's amazing, because I had a dream that we left Turkey on Sunday, and on the way the police caught us." So because two of us had dreams that were similar to each other, we decided to try to leave Turkey on Monday afternoon. It was amazing because with just a little money, just a little time, and no problems, we were in Athens. It only took us a day and a half. That was a miracle! And we thank God because that was from him. He helped us to come here. Because he is willing to help everybody, he helped us because we asked him with pure hearts. We only paid for the train and bus tickets...that was the only money we spent. We believed he would help us because we gave our lives to him, and he knows how to take care of us.

I believe that anything God wants me to do, he will put along my way, and if I listen to him, I will do it. Anything that I decide to do in my life, if it's from my flesh, won't happen. But when I gave my life and future to his hands, I believe that in his hands all of my problems will be solved. So I don't know what will happen, but I know wherever God sends me, he has a plan to use me.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

"B" 's Testimony

I grew up in a family that was indifferent about religion, not irreligious but not too religious. My family is Sunni not Shiee (Shiite). All of my family members are teachers. Because of that, growing up, I was only concerned with lessons and being a good student. In our city, in the Kurdish part of Iran, it was traditional in the summer to have a Koran class for all the young children taught by a mullah. I attended this class every summer for seven years. I have read the whole Koran three times through in these classes. I have also read the two books that one has to read to become a mullah in the Sunni branch of Islam.



Until I graduated from high school, I didn't have any problems, but after I passed my final examinations, I thought my God was far away from me, that He was high up in the sky, we were down on the earth, and there was no way to really talk to Him. There were some things that were sin in my life, but I couldn't stop doing them, I couldn't stop being a sinner. That really hurt my faith. When I passed the entrance exam to university, I went to Tehran. From that time my bad life began. I was hopeless and nothing bothered me, no matter what I did. I enjoyed being a sinner. The sin was one of the habits in my normal life. The only thing I didn't think about was God. I had emotional problems. I couldn't sleep at all. I would go to sleep late at night and rise early in the morning. I wasn't getting enough sleep. I think now that this was because my sin was bothering my conscience, but I didn't think about that then.



I studied in Tehran for four years, the last two of which I was a member of an opposition political group. Because of that, the university kicked me out and didn't give me a degree. I stayed in Iran for nine more months, and then I decided to leave the country, since I wasn't allowed to do anything because of my political affiliation... I couldn't work or study or do anything. I wasn't in prison but it was like a prison.



When I left Iran, my plan was to go to Bulgaria and then to England. Everything was set. I wasn't supposed to come to Greece. I stayed in Bulgaria for four months and had been accepted to be given a Bulgarian passport. But before I was issued one, September 11 happened, and the law was changed. I wasn't allowed to have one, so I had to leave. I decided to come to Greece with three other Iranians.



The first couple of weeks in Athens, we slept in the park and found out about a place the other refugees called "The American Church" (Helping Hands), where we could come to eat. Later we decided to help. I started to read a Bible I got there because it was the only Farsi book I had. I was reading it like a newspaper, not caring about it at all because of my religion. I talked to Nader privately and attended the Seekers' Class, Persian Christian Fellowship, and a local church, that my friends had begun attending because they were interested in Christianity, just to fill my free time because I didn't have anything else to do. When I would think about Christianity logically in my mind, I could accept it, but I still couldn't accept it in my heart.



My friends and I went to Argos in southern Greece to work, picking oranges. There I met a friend from Bulgaria who spoke Turkish. He had been Muslim but he had converted to Christianity. We would work together picking oranges, eat together, spend all of our time together. Every day and night during our free time he read the Bible out loud. Before each meal he prayed for us. His good attitude impacted me. One day he came to me and said, "Tomorrow is Sunday. We haven't been to church in a long time. We should go together." So we returned to Athens to take him to the church we had been attending. In church he prayed for us, crying as he prayed. When the work season was finished, he left for Bulgaria. But before he left, said to me, "Open your heart to Jesus. I will pray for you every day."



The opportunity arose to go to Italy, so I left Athens and went to an island to board a boat. Everything was set, everyone was ready to go, but something didn't let me go, something wasn't right. When I returned to Athens, I had no money left, and I was lost completely. It was the hardest time in my life. At that time I asked Jesus, "If You're real, touch me." On a Thursday, I went to an Iranian fellowship at the church my friends attended. I was not ready. I entered the church to find the congregation singing and worshiping God. I suddenly felt another feeling in my heart, like it had completely changed. I felt different. All the words they sang were like a wooden board hitting me in the head, reminding of my childhood. It was like a cinema, seeing all the things that had happened in my life. I was weeping, and I couldn't stand up straight, and I knelt to the floor. Afterward, I went back home... not really a house, just a ruined building where we were staying. We slept on the concrete floor, and it was very hard, and we each had only one sleeping bag. And yet that night was the first time I could sleep through the night in years.



Ten days after that day, I was baptized, earlier than my three friends! I didn't have emotional problems anymore. Instead, I had peace in my heart. Sin was slowly exiting my life as I lost the desire to sin. The best thing is that I can talk with my God directly. My God is not far away in the sky anymore. I know that my God has a wonderful plan for my life here on earth. Now I have the opportunity to leave Greece and live with some relatives in another country, but I know that God is calling me to work in Greece and be here. So I will not go anywhere until He will let me go. I can feel that He is trying to teach me each day through His Word. I am very grateful for His plan, and I will obey Him, step by step. I confess that He is the only one who can give us peace, and that He is the only Savior.

"L" 's story

I am from Iran. My father is seventy years old and has had three wives. I have so many siblings that I have to stop and count them on my fingers: six brothers, seven sisters. All of my brothers are in the army (and they are afraid they will lose their jobs because I left Iran). But my mind needs to be free. I'm not like them. I have a free spirit.


I could say that I had the feeling that I had lost something and had to go find it, but the real reason I left Iran was the matter of finding a job. When I first left home, I didn't tell my parents, just my sisters that I was going on a trip. I didn't even know where I was going. I spent a year going from one city in Iran to another. In each place I had a feeling that what I wanted (I didn't know what) wasn't there.

Life after leaving my parents was very difficult, even though I found work each place I went. I decided to apply for a passport, and when I got it, I went to Turkey, where I stayed for three years, trying to get to Greece from the first day I arrived. Three years later, the Turkish government deported me to Iran. It was a horrible situation, which lasted for the nine months it took for me to get a new passport to return to Turkey. As soon as I got it, I went to Istanbul.

I tried once more to get to Greece. I told God I would do Vuzu until I could get in. To do Vuzu, I would take my hand, put it in some water, then stretch out my hand so that my thumb was on one side of my face and my middle finger was on the other, pulling my hand over my face to wash it. It was important to get every centimeter of my face wet; otherwise I would have to do it again. I would dip my hand back into the water, cupping it to hold some, and pour it on my left arm, dragging the water down to my fingers, then repeating the process on my right arm.

Then I would put my hand at the back of the top of my head and drag it in a straight line almost to my forehead. Next I stroked each toe, from the tip to where it reached my foot, with my wet hand. Good Muslims do this five times a day before prayer. I would do this after each time I went to the bathroom, remaining in a constant state of ritual cleanliness.

I did Vuzu for a month. It was Christmas 2001, and I was in a square in Turkey where a Christmas program was taking place. When the program finished, I saw a black man giving out a book to everybody. I was curious, so I went over to him to see what he was doing. "What is this?" I asked, as I took one of the books. He said, "It is the holy Gospel of Jesus Christ." I didn't believe Christianity, but I knew that the Bible is a holy book written by the prophets. So I just kissed the book and left it on the street for someone else to take, since I can't read Turkish.

Soon it was time to leave. Four of my friends and I bought a plastic rowboat. We planned to paddle from Izmir to the closest Greek island. I called my mom, the first time I had talked to her since I had left. She hadn't been happy with me, but I asked her to pray for me, since I didn't know if I'd ever see her again. I might die. We blew up the boat, then realized none of us could swim! I believed that I wasn't really risking my life, that I would survive. I knew that the God who created the sea could save me too. I had this confidence as I paddled.

We moved fast. After five hours, we arrived at Híos without any problems. But the police arrested us and held us for two days. Then they gave us red cards (indicating we were applying for political asylum), forty euros each, and told us to buy ferry tickets to Athens. It was so easy. On previous attempts, I had spent five days walking from Turkey to Greece. This time it only took five hours of traveling and two days in jail.

I didn't know anyone in Athens or anywhere to go, but I knew that Iranians gathered in the Omonia area. The next day, some Iranians I met told me to come to Helping Hands. The first time I came was on a Friday for Shower Ministry. I was dirty from sleeping in the park. An Iranian named Nader was giving people showers and told me I was very lucky because a lot of people hadn't shown up that day. I got to shower even though I didn't have a ticket.

I came back the next day for food and loved watching the Jesus film. One day, I looked up to see Nader staring at me. He told me, "I know that one day you will believe in Jesus." But I thought, That's silly. That's impossible. How could that happen? It took Jesus beating me up to believe in Him, like Paul, blinded.

Ever since I arrived in Athens, I kept experiencing something new, something that had never happened to me in my life. I would think, I want to see... so-and-so, and a minute later that exact person would suddenly be in front of me. It would happen all the time. I wouldn't even ask God, but He kept providing for me.

For instance, one time my computer teacher Joanna had lent me a CD for learning English, making me promise to return it the next Saturday. On that day I thought Helping Hands was closed, and I was sad when I realized that night that I still had the CD and didn't know how to give it back to her. Right at that moment, she appeared, telling me I could keep the CD for another week. [Joanna: I had taken a different way home that night and bumped into Morteza right as I was about to go down to the metro.]

Also, I had a problem finding a place to stay, but I found an empty house, and it was open, so I went in. I stayed there for two weeks, coming to Helping Hands every time it was open and going to a local church on Sundays. I went to church because I wanted to know what they were talking about and to have more information, not as a believer but a seeker. The first sentence I heard that impacted me was "He is the God of love." When I heard this, I started to cry.

Two weeks after I moved into the empty house, two men, an Arab and an Albanian, came and told me that it was their house, but they let me stay there. They were not normal people; I just knew that they were doing illegal things, but I didn't have any choice; I had to live with them. I thought that maybe God had put me there to bring the Albanian to church, so I invited him to come with me several times, even though I wasn't a believer myself!

I kept a Koran with me the whole time. Whenever my Iranian friends asked me if I had become a Christian, I would pull out my Koran and say, "Would I carry this if I were a Christian? The only reason I go to church is to know what Christians believe."

It was very difficult to know which one was true and demanded belief, Christianity or Islam. I was twenty-six years old, had grown up in Islam all my life. I had even done Vuzu for an entire month. How could I give up everything, as if it were all a game, and say Christ was the way? But in my heart I knew this was true. God was trying to show me His way by all these miracles happening in my life. But I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't accept Christianity. I said to myself, I have to know all the facts, I can't simply believe. I'm the kind of person that can't accept something right away; I have to search for the truth for a long time.

One day I went to church during a prayer time and prayed, "God, I'm tired, very tired. If You are real, reveal Yourself to me. I want to know You and to know Your truth." That night I couldn't sleep. I prayed all night. I told God, "I only want to see Your truth. Open my eyes."

The next day, my friends cleaned the house. The Arab came and asked me, "Don't you have a Koran?" I handed it to him, and he read some passages out of it. Then he asked, "Do you know which direction Mecca is in?"

I answered, "I don't know, but pray in four directions, and one of them will be right." So he did. It was strange to me because I thought that my Arab friend didn't believe in God. I soon found

out that it was all a scam. He had stolen the Albanian's CD player and was planning to blame it on me.

That night the Albanian invited me into his room. He asked me where his CD player was. When I told him I didn't know, he punched me three times, in both eyes and in the nose. My clothes were covered in blood. I told him, "I didn't do it!" but he didn't believe me. Finally, I was able to escape from the house.

I never went back to the house, just staying out on the street all night before going to work the next morning. While I was working, I asked God, "You wanted me to bring them to Your church. What's going on? Why did this happen?" But God was using THEM to bring ME to Him.

I realized I had left one of my possessions in the house when I left for good, but instead of feeling sad, I felt free; it was my copy of the Koran. The Arab had brought Islam into the house, then stole the CD player and brought about all of these bad events. How could that be right? But Christians did good things. I thought that, to believe in Jesus, He should just appear and say, "Hi, I'm Jesus." But then I discovered that the reality was inside me. He was changing me from the inside, not appearing on the outside. All of my problems and bad characteristics were changing. I hadn't been patient at all, but now I had peace. I could tell He was working in me. It was as if God had punched me in both eyes Himself to say, "Okay, you've heard enough. Open your eyes and listen to me!"

There I was at work, talking out loud with God. Finally, I said, "Okay, I see now!" I had a bad headache because of my beating. I couldn't ask my employer for painkillers because I couldn't speak Greek. So I said, "God, I leave my headache with you." By the end of the day, my headache was gone.

I had committed a lot of sin in my life. I had problems because of my sin. The devil would point to my sin and say, "That's you!" I couldn't stand that.

But after I believed in Jesus, anytime the devil wanted to show how sinful I am, I could laugh at him and say, "I know, but Jesus paid the price for me, and you can't do anything!" From the time I believed in Jesus, the devil has tried to make me sin more than ever. It has been difficult because there are more opportunities than ever to sin, but now I have the strength to stand in Him.

One day I was looking for a place to stay, but I didn't have any money for rent. I talked to some friends who said they had found a place where I might be allowed to stay and pay later. I was on my way to the appointment to discuss this when I passed Nader in the street. Nader said, "We hear that you need a house. We talked and decided to give you a bed in the Nest apartment. You can move in tomorrow."

So I called my friend and said, "Don't worry, my problem is solved." My friend was shocked because it had only been two minutes since we last talked.

What does the future hold for me? I love traveling, and I always thought I would make a good traveling businessman. Now, I want to travel for God, to go anywhere he wants me to go, to be His missionary.





"L" was baptized on June 9th at the local church he attends. He has already started telling other refugees about Jesus. He believes God has called him to a life of service for Him.