Experiencing Allah�s Mercy

Khadijah Jandhli 

17/02/2003

How did a devout Christian from a practicing Christian family, born and raised in the middle of the United States of America, never knowing anything at all about Islam and never meeting any Muslims until she was in her 40s, come to accept Islam? It was completely the result of the great Mercy of Allah, to Whom all thanks and praise is due. This is my story. I never tire of telling it, as praise to Allah for His Love for me and His Mercy to me.

I was born in Oklahoma, USA and raised in a Christian family where
religion was very important. My mother was very careful to keep me
from making bad friends, and our family went to church at least three
times a week. Allah protected me by putting me in a family that
stressed high moral living: no smoking, no drinking, no drugs, no
swearing (cursing), no premarital sex, etc. I memorized almost the
entire Bible. One of my grandfathers and one of my grandmothers was a preacher. Allah blessed me with a good singing voice, and from the time I was 14 years old, I was paid by the church to sing, play the organ, and direct children's choirs, etc. In fact, when I first heard about Islam and met a Muslim who was a university student, I was 49 years old and still employed by a church and was still an active Christian.

All through my life, however, I was a person who asked questions. I read everything in the library about many subjects. The ability to read quickly and the desire to seek knowledge were blessings from Allah because they would eventually lead me to discover the Truth of Islam. However, where I grew up, there were no books about world religions, and certainly no books about Islam.

I always wanted to go to college, but when I graduated from high school, we could not afford it because my mother and father had divorced, so I went to work. That was also a blessing from Allah, because the college I wanted to attend at that time had no international students and was in a town with no Muslims at all.

Eventually, I married, had children, and was divorced, re-married, and divorced again. This, I am sorry to say, is too often the story among non-Muslims who do not understand Islamic values and the rights and duties of husbands and wives.

After my second divorce, my friends and family encouraged me to audition for a music scholarship at the University of Tulsa, near where was living at
that time. I was accepted and enrolled at the university. I loved school. I met people from all over the world and I read many books in the extensive library. I read something about the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and how his religion was called "Muhammadism" by some, but that it was not correct to call it that, that the real name of that religion was "Islam." That's all I knew about Islam at that time.

While at the university, I began tutoring college athletes and very soon, other college students wanted me to tutor them, especially in writing. That is where I met Muslim Malaysian sisters, about 90 of them. I was impressed by their good manners, the way they treated me so politely, and the way they excused themselves every day for a few minutes at certain times to go to prayer. I thought that their religion must have something good in it, because it affected the way they lived in a positive way. Also, I loved the beautiful way they looked in their scarves, but I thought that might just be their culture and not their religion that affected the way they dressed. I did not realize that it was Allah's way of protecting them.

Over the years, I had had many problems with migraine headaches. Often,
these headaches would become so severe that I would have to go to the
doctor and get strong medicine to alleviate the pain. While I was going to college and tutoring the Malaysian students, these headaches increased to the extent that I had a headache every day and I was spending most of the day in bed, taking strong drugs. Finally, I could not stop taking these medicines and the headaches were still so bad that I could not go to school.

It was at this time that the Malaysian sisters showed me the real Muslim heart. I left the doors to my house unlocked and they came in whenever they wanted, to see if I was awake. If I was asleep, they just waited or came back later for their tutoring sessions. Sometimes, I would waken to find one of them putting a paste of hibiscus leaves on my temples to relieve the pain or to find one of them cooking soup for me to eat. I was so ill that I could not work.

I had no money. My family was not helping me. Even the church where I
was employed (just across the street from the house I lived in) did not call me or send anyone to see if they could help me. During the entire two years of this migraine problem, only one friend came to see me or called me on the telephone. It was like a knife in my heart.

I prayed many times every day for God to take away my headaches and
for Him to help me not to have to take those strong drugs. I begged, I pleaded, I cried, I read the Bible, but the headaches and problems continued. Some terrible things happened. For example, I had no money to pay the rent. My son, who was living with me, did not give me any money. When I could not pay the rent, he moved out of my house and went to live with his friends. I could not afford even a small apartment, so one of my sons said I could live in the back room of his house. However, he put all his junk--such as trash, old washers and dryers, and broken furniture--back there, and he shut the doors between his part of the house and the back room so that I had no heat. In Tulsa, the winters are cold, and it was winter when I moved into his back room. He also told me not to eat any of his food, although he knew that I did not have any.

One day I asked Amina, one of the Malaysian sisters who covered herself from head to toe in the best Islamic manner, if she would tell me something about her religion. She said that she would rather get a more knowledgeable person to tell me about the religion because she did not want to give me any wrong information. So, she referred Mahmoud (from Oman) to me. He came to me, saying he needed some help in writing class, and answered some of my questions. The next day, he brought Saif (from Yemen) and they both answered my questions and became my students. Soon after that, Tariq and Khalid (from Oman) and Yousif (from UAE) became also students, as did many others. They came every day for help with their English and with their writing classes. I was surprised to find that these young men had exactly the same good manners as the Malaysian sisters.

In addition, I noticed the same love in their eyes when they spoke with each other that I had seen in the eyes of the Malaysian sisters when they spoke with each other. I thought that maybe it was something about their religion that made them love each other; I wanted to have that kind of love for people and to be loved by people like that. I was hungry for this love that they shared with each other. I was attracted to the light in their eyes, although at that time I did not know what it was. In reality, it was Allah loving me through them and showing me how beautiful Islam really is. Subhan Allah! (Allah is Sublime).

Always wanting to learn new things, I asked Saif for something to read about Islam. Wisely, he brought me Jamal Badawi's book, The Status of Women in Islam and some copies of Hadiths (sayings of the Prophet) that "heaven is at the feet of mothers" and "the best companion for you is your mother (three times) and then your father." Thus, the first thing I knew about Islam was that it affected the way people acted toward each other and that it taught that women had a respected, high, and special place in this world.

Saif was very careful not to push me to renounce Christianity and become Muslim. Rather, he answered my questions and made good explanations of any misunderstandings I had about Islam. One day, I asked him if the Holy Qur'an had been translated into English. He explained that the Word of Allah could not be translated into English, but that the meanings of the Words of Allah had been translated into English. I asked if he would bring me a Qur'an, and he agreed. What he brought was a beautiful, hardback, Arabic-English Qur'an with translation of the meanings and commentary by A. Yusuf Ali. However, he gave me strict instructions about it. He informed me that this was a Holy Book and, although I was not a Muslim, he still
wanted me to treat the Book with respect. He asked me to wash my hands before I touched it; to keep it on a high shelf; to not put anything on top of it; to never carry it into the bathroom or any other dirty place; and, to say before I started reading it, "I begin in the Name of God.�

Thus, the first thing I learned about the Holy Qur'an was that it was the true Word of God (Allah) and it had remained the same forever; that it was to be respected in every way.

I was very excited to think that this Book had not been tampered with. It had always frustrated me when I read the Bible that I was reading something that had been written down long after the events had happened, that it was written by many different authors, and that I could never see the original message of God in the language in which it had been spoken. Therefore, when I began to read the Qur'an, I did so with a holy fear and awe of God.

For a strong Christian, reading the Qur'an for the first time is shocking. For example, the Qur'an repeatedly says that Jesus (`Isa) was only a man and that those who say he was the Son of God are in terrible error. To me, at that time, it almost seemed like I should not be reading these words; it was like these words were saying bad things about God. The reason is that Christians are taught that they must believe that Jesus was the Son of God and that he came to earth, lived a perfect life, and was crucified on the cross so that
Christians who believe that would never go the hellfire. In fact, Christians are taught that if you do not believe that Jesus was the Son of God, you will never go to heaven. So as I began reading, it was hard for me. However, in my heart I knew, absolutely and completely, that I was reading the Words of God, the Truth. I could not stop reading. I read for hours every day.

On the fifth day of reading the Qur'an, I found Surat Al-Noor. "... Light upon Light..." Although I was reading only the English translation of the meanings, the beauty of the Truth and of the Arabic language became clear to me. I could not wait until Saif came, so I could ask him to read that Surah to me in Arabic. He was happy to read it, and, as I had thought it would be, it was even more beautiful in Arabic than in English. From that time on, I
finished my reading each day with that Surah.

The headaches continued, but as I prayed, I began to think more and more of calling God by His real name, Allah. I asked for more books and read several about Islam. I began thinking that I was soon going to have to make a big decision about my beliefs�but I was afraid.

Suddenly, my son announced that I would have to move out of his house
because he had decided to move to another house and I would not be
welcome to come with him. I borrowed money to rent an apartment and
the Muslim brothers helped me move. The date was August 10, 1994. On
the first night in my new apartment, I decided to become a Muslim, but I was not ready to tell anyone yet. I knew that Muslims prayed prostrating with their faces on the floor, so I positioned myself on the floor facing Makkah (although at that time I did not even know what direction Makkah was or that I was supposed to face Makkah when I prayed) and I prayed:

"Oh Allah. You know me better than I know myself. You know every sin
I have committed and every good deed I have done. You know I have
been searching for Your Truth all my life. You know I have been
studying about Islam and reading the Qur'an. I am afraid. But I think
I have to make a decision. I have called you God all these years and
now I know Your Name is Allah, but I have tried to worship You in the
only way I knew how to worship. If I have done wrong, please forgive
me. If I am wrong about Islam, please do not send me to the Hellfire for believing that Jesus was only a prophet. But I believe that Islam is the Truth and that You, Allah, are the One True God, that You have no son, that there is no Allah but You, and that Muhammad was Your Prophet. I want to be a Muslim because I want to worship You in the right way, because I do not want to go to the Hellfire, and I want to go to Heaven when I die. Oh Allah. I am so afraid of You, but I believe You love me and You understand my intention."

When I finished praying, I just sat in the floor, feeling very peaceful and very sleepy. I lay down after a short time and went to sleep. When I awakened in the morning, I was surprised. I did not have a headache. I immediately began thanking Allah because I did not have a headache. I began praying five times a day, because I knew that Muslims did that, but I did not know how to pray. Nevertheless, I prayed what I could, prostrating.

About the headaches? I threw away my strong medicines that very day and since then, I have never had to take any medicine stronger than aspirin for a headache and I have never had to go to the doctor for a headache. Al-hamdulillah (all praise to Allah). I did not ask Allah for anything about
the headaches, but He is so Merciful that He took them away immediately and completely.

From August 10 to November 8, I read about Islam and prayed as best I knew how, and I tried to get enough courage to ask Saif what I needed to do to "really" become a Muslim...but I was afraid. During this time, I became increasingly shy about the way I was dressing. So, I began to wear long skirts or long pants, long-sleeved blouses (even when it was hot and I had no air conditioning), and so on. Sometimes, when no one was with me, I would put a scarf on my head and I loved the way I felt in it, so safe and pure. Finally, I decided that on the night of November 8, after I finished tutoring Saif, I would ask him what I needed to do to become a Muslim.

Although I did not know it, Saif had decided to invite me to Islam on that same night after he finished his tutoring session and had made his intention to Allah to do that. After the lesson was completed, I turned to Saif and said, "OK, Saif. What do I have to do to become a Muslim?" At exactly the same time, he turned to me and said, "OK, sister, tonight I have to invite you to Islam." Our words passed each other in the air between us. There was a moment of silence, then we both began to cry. Allahu Akbar. Subhan Allah. (Allah is Great. Allah is Sublime.) Do you see how Allah had written everything, even to the exact moment when I would be ready to ask the question and Saif would be ready to invite me to become a Muslim?

I asked Saif to give me one night to prepare myself to make shahadah (declaration of faith), as he explained to me that making shahadah was all I had to do to be a Muslim. On November 9, 1994, Saif brought Abdel Wahed with him as a witness, and I made shahadah. Then they went to the mosque to announce my conversion. I asked them to bring me everything they could find to read about Islam. They brought me a stack of books that day, and every two or three days, they brought me more to read. I read books, read the Qur'an, and asked many, many questions about my new religion. I was particularly happy to find a book that showed me how to pray. I read that one first and planned to make all my prayers correctly from then on.

The next morning, although I had no alarm clock, I was awake for Fajr
(Dawn) Prayer. Why? Because I was awakened just before dawn by the
sound of a small kitten meowing at my door. I went to the door and found a very young, starving kitten waiting for me. I brought her in, fed her some milk, washed, and made my first Fajr Prayer on time. From that time on, that kitten climbed up on my bed and meowed loudly before dawn everyday. Subhan Allah!

Upon hearing that I had become Muslim, all the students came to see me, brought food to fill my empty cupboards and refrigerator, and sat with me every evening for a time to answer questions. The sisters from the university and community brought me some clothes, including an Islamic dress. When I finally put on my Islamic clothes, I felt I had finally come to my real home, my real faith, my real identity, my real language, my real family.

Oh Allah! Thank You for opening my heart to Islam. Thank You
for sending someone to invite me to Islam. Oh Allah! Please forgive all my sins and admit me to Jannah (Paradise) because of Your Mercy. Oh
Allah! Help me and all Muslims to love You, to love our Prophet
(peace be upon him), to love the Arabic language, the language in which You revealed Your Holy Words to Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), and to be willing, yes eager, to share our knowledge with others. Ameen.

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The One and Only

Diane Charles Breslin - Ph.D.

When I am asked how I became a Muslim I always reply that I always felt myself to be a believer in the ONE AND ONLY, yet I first realized what that meant when I heard about a religion called Islam, and a book called Qur�an.

But let me first start with a brief synopsis of my American overwhelmingly traditional Irish Catholic background.

Catholic I was Indeed

My dad left the seminary after a three-year stint to train as a missionary. He was the oldest of thirteen children, all born and raised in the Boston area. Two of his sisters became nuns, as was his aunt on his mother�s side. My dad�s younger brother was also in the seminary and quit after 9 years, just before taking his final vows. My grandmother would wake at dawn to dress and climb the hill to the local church for early morning mass while the rest of the house was sleeping. I remember her as being a very stern, kind, fair strong woman, and rather deep, unusual for those days. I�m certain she never heard mention of Islam, and may Allah judge her as to the beliefs she held in her heart. Many who never heard of Islam pray to the One by instinct although they have inherited labels of various denominations from their ancestors. 

I was enrolled in a Catholic nursery school at the age of four and spent the next 12 years of my life surrounded by heavy doses of trinity indoctrination. Crosses were everywhere, all day long - on the nuns themselves, on the walls of the classroom, in church which we attended almost daily, and in almost every room of my house. Not to mention the statues and holy pictures - everywhere you looked there was baby Jesus and his mother Mary - sometimes happy, sometimes sad, yet always classically white and Anglo featured. Various and sundry angels and saints pictures would make their appearances, depending on the holyday approaching. 

I have vivid memories picking lilacs and lilies of the valley from our yard to make bouquets which I placed in the vase at the base of the largest Mother Mary statue in the upstairs hallway next to my bedroom. There I would kneel and pray, enjoying the pleasant scent of the freshly picked flowers and serenely contemplating on how lovely was Mary�s long flowing chestnut hair. I can unequivocally state that I never once prayed TO HER or felt that she had any powers to help me. The same was true when I would hold my rosary beads at night in bed. I repeated the ritual supplications of the Our Father and the Hail Mary and the Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, all the while looking upward and saying with my true heart�I know its only You, one almighty You-I�m just saying this stuff because it�s all I ever learned. 

On my twelfth birthday my mom gave me a Bible. As Catholics we were not encouraged to read anything except our Baltimore Catechism, sanctioned by the Vatican. Any comparative introspection was denied and disparaged. Yet I fervently read, seeking to know what I hoped would be a story from and about my creator. I got even more confused. This book was obviously the work of men, convoluted and difficult to grasp. Yet, once again, that�s all that was available. 

My prior faithful church attendance dropped off in my mid teens as was the norm for my generation, and by the time I reached my twenties I had basically no formal religion. I read a lot on Buddhism, Hinduism and even tried out the local Baptist church for a few months. They were not enough to hold my attention, the former too exotic and the latter too provincial. Yet all thru the years of not formally practicing, a day never passed when I didn�t �talk to god� especially as I fell asleep I would always say thanks for all my blessings and seek help for any problems I was experiencing. It was always the same certain ONE AND ONLY whom I was addressing, sure He was listening and confident of His love and care. No one ever taught me anything about this; it was pure instinct. 

The Others

It was in my preparation for my master�s degree that I first heard of the Qur�an. Up until then, as most Americans, I knew only of �the Arabs� as mysterious, dark predators out to plunder our civilization. Islam was never mentioned-only the surly, dirty Arabs, camels and tents in the desert. As a child in religion class I often wondered who were the other people? Jesus walked in Caana and Galilee and Nazareth but he had blue eyes�who were the other people? I had a sense that there was a missing link somewhere. In 1967 during the Arab-Israeli war we all got our first glimpse of the other people, and they were clearly viewed by most as the enemy. But for me, I liked them, and for no apparent reason. I cannot to this day explain it except to now realize that they were my Muslim brothers. 

I was about 35 when I read my first page of Qur�an. I opened it with the intention of a casual browse to get acquainted with the religion of the inhabitants of the region I was majoring in for my Master�s Degree. Allah caused the book to fall open to Surat al-Mu�minun (The Believers) verses 52-54:

{Verily, this your nation is one nation and I am your Lord so keep your duty to Me. But they broke up their command into sects, each one rejoicing in its belief. So leave them in their error until a time}. (Qur�an, Al-Mu�minun, 52-54) 

From the first reading I knew that this was certain truth- clear and forceful, revealing the essence of all humanity and verifying all I had studied as a History major. Humanity�s pathetic rejection of the truth, their unceasing vain competition to be special and their neglectfulness of the purpose for their very existence all set forward in a few words. Nation states, nationalities, cultures, languages- all feeling superior when in fact all these identities mask the only reality which we ought to rejoice in sharing- that is to serve one master, THE ONE Who created everything and Who owns everything. 

I Still Love Jesus and Mary

As a child I used to say the phrase �Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen� found in the prayer �Hail Mary�. I now see how much Mary has been maligned by the misrepresentation of her as the mother of the godhead. It is quite enough to view her as chosen above all women to bear the great prophet Jesus by the Virgin Birth. My mom would often defend her constant pleas for Mary�s help by explaining that she too was a mother and understood a mother�s sorrows. It would be far more useful for my mom and all others to contemplate how the most pure Mary was slandered by the Jews of her time and accused of a most despicable sin, that of fornication. Mary bore all of this, knowing that she would be vindicated by the Almighty, and that she would be given the strength to bear all of their calumnies. 

This recognition of Mary�s faith and trust in Allah�s mercy will allow one to recognize her most exalted position among women, and at the same time remove the slander of calling her the mother of god which is an even worse accusation than that of the Jews of her time. As a Muslim you may love Mary and Jesus, but to love Allah more will gain you the Paradise, as He is the One whose rules you must obey. He will judge you on a day when no one else can help you. He created you, and Jesus, and his blessed mother Mary as He created Muhammad. All died or will die-Allah never dies. 

Jesus (`Isa in Arabic) never once claimed to be the godhead. Rather, he repeatedly referred to himself as being sent. As I look back on the confusion I experienced in my youth, its root lay in the church�s claim that Jesus was more than he himself admitted. The church fathers formulated a doctrine to invent the concept of Trinity. It is this confused rendering of the original Torah and Injil [Gospel] (scriptures given to Moses and Jesus) which is at the core of the issue of Trinity. 

In honest fact it is enough to simply state that Jesus was a prophet, yes, a messenger who came with the word of the One Who sent him. If we view Jesus in this correct light, it�s easy to then accept Muhammad as his younger brother who came with the very same mission- to call all to the worship of the Almighty ONE, Who created everything and to whom we shall all return. It is of no consequence whatsoever to debate their physical features. Arab, Jew, Caucausian, blue or brown eyes, long or short hair -all totally irrelevant as to their importance as bearers of the message. Whenever I think of Jesus now, after knowing about Islam, I feel that connectedness which one feels in a happy family -a family of believers. You see Jesus was a �Muslim�, one who submits to his Lord above. 

The first of the �Ten Commandments� state:

1. I am the lord thy god, thou shalt not have false gods before me.

2. Thou shalt not take the name of the lord thy god in vain. 

Anyone who knows the correct meaning of �la ilah ila Allah� (there is no god but Allah) will immediately recognize the similarity in this testimony. Then we can really start to bring together the real story of all the prophets and put an end to the distortions.

{And they said the Most Merciful has taken a son. Indeed you have brought forth a terrible evil thing. Whereby the heavens are almost torn, and the earth split asunder, and the mountains fall in ruins}. (Qur�an, Maryam (Mary) 88-90)

My Journey to Islam

It took three full years of my searching and studying Qur�an before I was ready to proclaim that I wanted to be a Muslim. Of course I feared the changes in clothing and habits such as dating and drinking to which I had become accustomed. Music and dancing were a big part of my life, and bikinis and mini skirts were my claim to fame. All the while I had no chance to encounter any Muslims as there were none in my area except a few immigrants who could barely speak English an hour�s drive away at the only mosque in the state at that time. When I would go to Friday Prayer, to try and check out what I was considering, I would receive furtive glances as I was perhaps suspected of being a spy as was the case, and still is, in most Islamic gatherings. There was not a single Muslim American available to help me and, as I said, all the immigrant population were rather chilly to say the least. 

In the midst of this phase of my life, my dad died of cancer. I was at his bedside and literally witnessed the angel of death remove his soul. He was gripped by fear as tears rolled down his cheeks. A life of luxury, yachts, country clubs, expensive cars years for both him and mom, all a result of interest income, and now its all over. 

I felt a sudden desire to enter Islam quickly, while there was still time, and to change my ways and not to continue blindly seeking what I had been raised to believe to be the good life. Shortly thereafter I came to Egypt and involved a long slow journey through the miracle of the Arabic language and the discovery of the clear truth -Allah is One, the Everlasting Eternal; Who never was born or gave birth and there is nothing at all like Him. 

It is also the resulting equality between humans that attracted me most to that religion. The Prophet Muhammad said that people are like teeth of a comb -all equal- the best being the most pious. In Qur�an we are told that the best are the pious ones. Piety involves love of and fear of Allah alone. Yet before you can really be pious you must learn who Allah is. And to know Him is to love Him. I started learning Arabic to read the word of Allah in Arabic as it was revealed.

Learning Qur�an has changed every facet of my life. I no longer wish to have any earthly luxuries, neither cars nor clothes nor trips can lure me into that web of vain desires which I was so caught up in before. I do enjoy a fairly good life of a believer but as they say� it is no longer embedded in the heart...only at hand. I don�t fear the loss of my former friends or relatives -if Allah chooses to bring them close then so be it, but I know that Allah gives me exactly what I need, no more- no less. I don�t feel anxious or sad anymore, nor do I feel regret at what has passed me by. Because I�m safe in the care of Allah -THE ONE AND ONLY whom I always knew but didn�t know His name. 

A Prayer For America

I pray to Almighty Allah to allow each and every American the opportunity to receive the message of Tawhid (Oneness of Allah (God)) in a simple, straightforward fashion. America is not Satan, nor are most of its inhabitants �Kafirs� (covering the truth while knowing it) as so many try to claim. Americans are for the most part grossly uninformed in regards to correct Islamic theology. The stress is almost always on politics, which focuses on the deeds of men. Its high time we concentrated on the deeds of the prophets who all came to lead us out of the darkness and into the light. There is no doubt that darkness is prevailing in the malaise affecting America now. The light of truth will serve us all, and whether or not one chooses to follow the Islamic path, there is no doubt that the blocking of it or the hindering of others from following it will surely lead to further misery. I care very much for the healthy future of my country, and I�m quite certain that learning more about Islam will enhance the chances of my hopes being fulfilled.