In the beginning of the last 100 days, all I’d done was search via pinterest a couple of Bible verses. It started off with just once a week or so, but I found myself daily searching and saving pictures. Most of the time I’d save them so that I’d have some with me while I run out of phone data… from pinteresting too much.
One incident that happened was when I was in school and came across a guy who had shared his common cultured way/view on talking with the opposite gender. So being my usual prideful self, I got angry and began yelling at him so that I would “get even.” Oddly the more I got angry and raised my voice, the more I felt like I was being stepped on, humiliated, pitied, or even disregarded by him. I felt like I couldn’t get even in anyway. I viewed him as a guy who is full of himself, and took advantage of whoever could benefit him. So I sought to finally get the best of him. Although whenever I would try, I felt deeply burdened or weak to try and yell back; somehow I felt like I wasn’t strong or brave enough too.
When I traveled back home from Cairo, I was confused. I spent a week pondering about what I’d felt, so I decided to download any bible app on my phone. I tried to read from Genesis but I wasn’t able to understand then, especially having not known that there were various translations that could have been much clearer. Though I was drawn to read, I was scared that what I’m doing could be something that would make me end up in hell. Why would I go to hell for feeling sane or peaceful? I was never taught much except little snippets I heard in religion class in school (Such as hate the Jews, bible being corrupted etc…) not many teachers expressively claimed hatred, but from a religious perspective they indirectly claimed it.
I don’t know where to begin from. Mainly because God throughout my life was already present. In little moments I may have realized it, but never really grasped it till a bit later. Without those small moments that seemed unimportant, I probably wouldn’t have come to know much of what I know now.
I was born a Muslim, in a Muslim family, among a Muslim majority country. I was taught to believe what I was told and to never question much about it, which would be scandalous if I’d ever dared to question God. I also had never gotten the chance to learn much about my prior religion Islam because I’d moved to USA early in my life. Even there, I never encountered a Christian, or knew anything about the religion. I had come across many, but they were only namely inherited because their parents were. Fortunately that didn’t stop me from thinking or coming across those small moments that would shape the next few years of my life.