Nabeel Qureshi grew up in a devout and loving Muslim home but found Christ as an adult. Hear him talk about his amazing journey into a life of faith. Please watch the video below and join us on September 18th at 2 pm EST/11 am PST for an exclusive LIVE author chat with Nabeel, author of
Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus! Nabeel’s story is profound and will open your eyes perhaps for the first time to the struggles new believers face and will offer great hope!
I was a crumpled heap on the ground, trembling before God.
Two weeks after accepting my Lord, I tried to plead with Him, while wailing and stammering through quivering lips.
“Why, God..?” But I could not formulate my words. The shaking was uncontrollable. The night before, I had looked into Abba’s eyes as they welled with tears. Those eyes that had so tenderly cared for me since the day he whispered the adhan into my ears. The eyes that softly closed in prayer every night as he invoked the protection of God. The eyes that would turn back lovingly as he went off to sea, serving his nation and his family. To be the cause of the only tears I had ever seen those eyes shed, I could not bear it.
“Why, God . . . ?”
Though Abba did not say much, what he did say has haunted me ever since. The man who stood tallest in my life, my archetype of strength, my father, spoke these words through palpable pain: “Nabeel, this day, I feel as if my backbone has been ripped out from inside me.”
The words tore through me. It felt like patricide. I had not given up just my life to follow Jesus, I was killing my father. He has never stood as tall since that day. I extinguished his pride.
“Why, God . . . ?”
Ammi had even fewer words than Abba, but her eyes said more. “You are my only son. You came from my womb. Since you were born, I have called you my jaan kay tuqray, a physical piece of my life and heart. I cradled you, sang to you, taught you the ways of God. Every day since you came into this world, I have loved you with all of me in a way I have loved no one else.
“Why have you betrayed me, Billoo?”
Her eyes seared my soul and remain branded in my memory. They were the final image I saw before Abba ushered Ammi out of my apartment and to the hospital across the street. None of us were sure she would make it through the night. She survived, but her eyes have never been as bright since that day. I extinguished their light.
Decimated before God, eyes pouring, nose and mouth unable to withhold the grief, I was finally able to sputter my question through tears and mucus: “Why, God, did You not kill me the moment I believed? Why did You leave me here? Why did You leave me to hurt my family more deeply than they’ve ever been hurt? They never deserved this! I’ve destroyed it all! Nothing is left! “Why didn’t You kill me?”
I pleaded with God, full of despair because it was too late. “It would have been better if You had killed me the moment I believed so my family would never have had to taste betrayal. This is far worse for them than my death would have been. At least our love would have lived on. At least our family would have always been one.
“Why, God?”
At that moment, the most agonizing moment of my life, something happened that was beyond my theology and imagination. As if God picked up a megaphone and spoke through my conscience, I heard these words resonate through my very being:
“Because this is not about you.”
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Your Turn
What have you learned about reaching out to those of the Muslim faith? Maybe you’re not a Muslim, but can you identify with Nabeel’s story, having faced persecution for following Christ or being disowned by your family? You’re invited to watch Nabeel’s video and share your stories today on our blog.
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