Wednesday, June 15, 2011

"D's" Story

‘I was born into a Muslim family. All through my childhood I had religious instruction by my devout elder brothers. The oldest had 3 spirits passed on to him by his instructor and was in possession of dark powers!
At the age of 17 I was initiated into the spiritist muslim mystic sect of the ‘Dervishes’. I used to stay on my knees whole nights memorising the Koran and I was not allowed to sleep before the sun came out.
I left my country in the late 90s to come to Europe. Passing through Turkey, I came for the first time across a Christian church with a cross on it. The cross startled me, and I did not know why. I was drawn to it and felt as if the cross was planted in my heart and I could not uproot it. I carried the cross in me and I did not know why and what was its significance. I was a Muslim.
A friend that was travelling with me came to Christ in Turkey, but I was encased and could not make a move towards Christ neither in my mind nor my heart.
In year 2000 I came to Greece and worked hard for a while hoping to go further into northern Europe. It wasn’t long before someone stole all the money I had collected and killed all my dreams.
My answer was to commit an armed robbery. This, I thought, would correct the injustice.
I was caught and thrown into prison. Rage consumed my nights and days until one night Jesus appeared to me in a dream. He stood gracefully before me and said, ‘I will give you just wages!
In 2002 I was moved into another prison. I suffered extreme stress and anxiety.
There Jesus came to me again in a dream. His countenance was so beautiful and all about Him was brilliance of light. When I woke up all my stress, malice and hatred was gone. I marvelled, but still read the Koran and could not come to Jesus.
In year 2004 I was moved to a prison in Athens.
I read the Koran day and night but nothing could fill my void. One morning the dreaded decision arrived. Deportation! Due to my criminal record, not only would I never have the right to apply for asylum but now I was to be sent back to Iran. The consequences were grave and I went mad with despair at the prospect.
That night I called upon Mohamed, Allah, the prophets, spirits, and Jesus.
‘If anyone is there, come and speak to me.
If you are God, my God, if you love me, if you want me, come and speak to me.’
No one answered me, but Jesus came a third time in my dream.
He was beautiful and brilliant, like the light of the sun.
He spoke to me in Greek and said three times, Be patient a little longer’.
I woke up next morning feeling as a new born baby at my mother’s arms. I could not understand what had happened to me. My stress was gone and I was full of inexplicable peace. I knew that God was with me and I was not going to be deported.
I was released indeed and I was not deported!

My heart was drawn closer and closer to Jesus.
And yet there was still something that grabbed me at times from within and I could not fight it. The spirit of Islam was in me.
It took me ten years to come to Christ, there were strongholds binding me.
Then while I was serving my last sentence for not having legal papers, God completed His work in me. I started attending a Greek fellowship and I started to drink of God. I got baptized.
When I went through the waters of baptism I felt as if God put His stamp on me and I was freed completely from the spirit of Islam.
And last year, on Easter day, He came to me and said, I died for you. You are my beloved son. If only you know how much you are loved.
I will never forget it as long as I live.’

1 comment:

Joyous said...

This story gives me much hope. Praise God for making Himself known to those who seek Him.