From Christianity to Islam

Inspired by another sister’s blog, I wanted to share the story of my journey to Islam. I had been raised to be Christian. Though my Mom was not a member of a church when
I was a child, she made sure that I was and would send me to Sunday School on
occasion. When I was nine years old, she briefly studied with the Jehovah’s
Witnesses. I didn’t like their services-they were very different from the
lively, dramatic worship that I experienced when I visited my Grandma’s church
in Seattle. However when we moved to Seattle the next year, my Mom totally
stopped
associating with the Jehovah’s Witnesses. My Mom’s family was 100% Baptist and
no other belief was going to be tolerated by my Grandma. Once in Seattle, my
Grandma took a stronger role in my life and as a result, church took a major
role. At the end of each sermon, the invitation to discipleship was extended.
One Sunday, my Grandma urged me to go up front, give my life to Isa and be
baptized. Now I don’t knock my Grandma for this; I understand that she was just
doing what she had been raised to do. I had been raised to love and not
question my elders, so I went up as instructed. The pastor asked me a number of
questions:

“Do you believe in Jesus?”

“Do you believe He died for your sins?”

“Do you believe God raised Him up on the third day?”

I responded yes to every question and was scheduled to be baptized. I was ten years old. On the appointed day the pastor asked me those same questions and I
was baptized. I was told that being baptized meant I was “born again” and was a
new person. The only difference to me was that my clothes were now soaking wet!
I didn’t fully understand the concept of the trinity. I had doubts about my own
salvation-how did it really work? How could one really know what was true? But
asking questions was discouraged; as Christians we were supposed to go by faith
alone and not seek evidence. After my baptism I was a full member of the
church.
I settled into the routine –Sunday School and morning worship on Sundays, Bible
Study on Wednesdays, Choir rehearsal on Saturdays and endless Pastor/church
“anniversaries”
on the other weekdays. The pastor/church anniversaries in particular really
bothered me, because they seemed to be self-congratulatory and didn’t
strengthen people in their faith. Many of the sermons disappointed me as well,
for they gave little to no guidance on how to live one’s daily life.

One day in 1991 I was at my best friend’s house. An avid reader, I looked through her mother’s bookshelf for something to read. I came across The Autobiography
of Malcolm X. Before this day, I had never heard of him. The introduction
intrigued
me, so I decided to read it. We had that day off from school and met up with
other students to hang out. But I took that book with me and every time I sat
down I read it. I was enthralled! His life was so fascinating and the knowledge
in the book itself was so new to me. I finished it that night. I read it again
the next day. I could understand Malcolm’s journey and admired his courage in
following the truth, even when it involved major sacrifice on his part. His
evolution from the NOI to Islam and his account of his Hajj was so uplifting
and left a huge impression.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X opened up a whole new world for me. It made me conscious of the African Diaspora. But most importantly, it introduced me to a
faith I hadn’t heard of before: Islam. Ashamed of my utter ignorance on both
subjects, I made it a point to study them. By the time I was twelve years old,
I believed
that Islam was the true faith and wanted to become one. To put it plainly,
Islam
made sense to me. Yet everyone around me told me that Christianity was the only
way; there was no salvation outside of the Church. Anyone who believed
differently would spend eternity in torment.

Between the fear of eternal torment if my family was right and my fear of what would happen in the present if I left the Church, I kept my feelings to myself. I
didn’t want to disappoint my family and become estranged from them. But the
pull to Islam and the lingering doubts about Christian doctrine never went
away. When I was 19, I left the church I had been raised, disillusioned with
some of the things I had seen. I joined another church, only to leave it nine
months later. At that point I decided I didn’t want to bother with church and
following any rules at all. I was now 20. In the arrogance of my youth, I
thought I knew best and thought I could make my own code to live by. I stopped
attending church devoutly-except for special occasions to make my Mom and
Grandma happy, or when I was going through a crisis of my own. Even though I
had questions regarding
doctrine, I believed in the existence of God. There was no way all of this
could exist by coincidence! I also believed that there was life after death.
But thinking I’d always have “time” to get it right later, I didn’t focus on
submitting to God. I did whatever I deemed to be right in my own eyes. In
February 2010 something happened that made me pump my brakes and slow down.
When I tell people this they think I’m insane. But I heard Allah speak to me.
He told me that I was not living as good or as righteous as I thought I was,
and that I needed to submit. At first I did not want to hear this message. I
had gotten so used to thinking of myself as “good” by my own standards. But
deep
down I knew there was no way I could argue with Allah. So I did the one thing I
remembered from my youth: I prayed. I sincerely asked Allah for guidance-what
should I do and how should I go about submitting to Him and being a virtuous
woman? The answer came to me in one word:”Islam”.
I knew what I needed to do; I had to convert. I contacted a sister that I knew
from high school to talk with her about Islam and my intentions. She was very
supportive and gave me lots of information. Before I took my Shahadah I started
making
changes in my life. The immodest clothing had to go. When I was offered alcohol
I didn’t even want it. When I began to share my intentions with family and
friends, they were surprised and upset with me. But I knew what Allah was
calling me to do and I had to submit to Allah first. On Sunday, April 4^th,
2010 I took my Shahadah. Publicly stating my faith in and allegiance to
Allah…words
can’t really convey what it meant. I’m
grateful that Allah showed me the truth of Islam and that I am finally
following it.