بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
For many years I always wondered what the purpose of life was. I was born a Catholic and raised as a Christian. I went to Bible class and Sunday school then shortly after went to the Sunday sermon. When I would listen to the sermon I tried to take myself to the story he was telling. Sometimes that was easy. When the focus was the old testament it seemed almost natural. Listening to the stories of Adam a.s. and Eve or the stories of Abraham a.s. and Isaac a.s. and Ishmael a.s. was easy and understandable. My confusion came in at the time of Jesus a.s. The Christians would portray Jesus a.s. as this humble healer and messenger of God. And then the next line would contradict this by stating that he is the son of God. Then there was talk of a holy spirit and the mother of God and on and on went these hypocrisies. I became frustrated by the lack of explanation of this. Was I to believe this with no evidence and it directly went against the laws Moses a.s. was given. My frustration turned to anger and from anger to total disbelief. I abandoned church and all forms of God worshipping. For many years I even abandoned God. My purpose of life was fulfillment of my wants and desires. Which was a downward spiral that left me spiritually broken and physically battered.
My craving for desires led me to do harm to others, to go and "hit licks", and many other devilish deeds. Eventually my acts landed me in juvenile detention. But the charges brought against me left everybody in the courtroom awe stricken. Charges of attempted terrorism and terroristic threats. I was then told by my attorney that my case might be thrown out of juvenile and integrated into the adult legal system. My life was crumbling in front of me. I felt trapped in a movie. There was no way that this was really happening. I hadn't even committed the original crime I was charged with, let alone terrorism. It was shortly after that I had a dream while still in the juvenile detention center. The dream seemed like a message. A simple, blatant, blaring message. I saw nothing but darkness. Then a small speck of light appeared. So I walked towards the light until I was overcome with light. Then I woke up. And all I wanted to do was find God and get my life back together. Since my dream Epiphany so to speak, I started making prayers to God. Just God. No Jesus or spirits or saints or priests. In a total 180 my charges became nothing more than threats of arson. I was given immediate release to be on probation for 6 months and monitored. Was this the power of prayer? After years of praying to others one prayer to the most high could result in this? I felt millions of tiny weights being lifted off my chest at the same time.
Since I was on house arrest I spent a lot of my free time studying different religions. I loved the peace and tranquility of Buddhism, but their theology seemed wrong. I liked the approach of Judaism in the aspect of God's oneness, but the sense of entitlement seems wrong for people who are suppose to love God. Then I came across Islam. I had some good high school friends who came from Somalia and had tried to teach me Islam in the past. Maybe that is something I should look into. So I did. I studied Islam for hours and hours. The history, the practices, the beliefs etc etc. The more I learned the more I loved the religion. The image I had seen portrayed by the media was totally wrong about this religion. I got an English copy of the Quran and I went to work. I finished the book from front to back in about a week. I became so engrossed in the religion I began neglecting my schoolwork (after I was released from house arrest).
After months of preparing I got the courage to ask some people to take me to the local mosque. I was quite schocked to learn there were many local mosques as well as a large number of Muslims all around me. Many kids I went to school with or rode the bus with, yet never once did I notice or bother to ask why they spoke Arabic or had names like Mohamed. I went to the mosque and immediately was surrounding by people of many different backgrounds, races, and cultures. But they all treated one another as though they were brothers and sisters. I also started to notice a small group of Americans standing there speaking in English. They saw me and one man said "Asalaamu alaikum" my response was "Hi. How are you?" Then I felt embarrassed. Months of studying and I let it slip to respond with Walaikum salaam. They laughed and asked me if I was new. I said yes. So they took me upstairs to talk to the Imam. He welcomed me and asked me why I want to be a Muslim. My answer was short and sweet (it took less time for me to summarize why then it will take to read this post). He understood and said " come back tomorrow with 3 other muslims" I was confused as to why he said that. But I listened. I came back the next day right after school with my friends and said the most important words of my life. The shahada. The testimony of all Muslims. The belief and acceptance that there is only one who is worthy of worship. Allah. And that his final messenger to us was Mohamed ﷺ
سلام عليكم
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