Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Day I Died

I was in agony. I could feel pain in every part of my body. I had at least one broken rib from the beatings I had endured over the last few days. Three broken fingers from the previous torture session. It had seemed like I had been here for an eternity but it had only been a week. I was in some non descript building in Iran. I tried to open my eyes. Through the slight haze in one eye I could see the small window with burglar bars. It barely gave light to the small cramped room I had found myself in. My other eye had stopped working. In this awful situation I somehow found peace. I found God. He was the reason I was here. I knew I should have been more careful with the bible I possessed. I had always known how dangerous it would be if I had been caught. There were so few in the country and now there was one less. It had surprised me that my friends had turned me in. I forgave them. They had been raised as extremist Moslem as had I. It was their duty. I had been a Christian less than a year. I had kept it secret from everyone except Ahmed my Christian brother. We had studied the bible together in secret to avoid being persecuted. All this was now coming to an end. I had been beaten on the brink of death and commanded to deny my faith. To turn against my father, creator and friend. To worship someone who did not Love me. It was impossible to do. Since meeting Jesus I had been changed permanently. I had no fear of death. I worshiped Jesus.


The door burst open. Three men came in and dragged me out the room. One had a machete. I knew this was it. The pain was going to stop. I was going to meet my maker. I began to shake uncontrollably and to sob aloud. They pinned my head on a block of wood. I was freaking out. The one in charge asked me. "Deny Jesus, serve Allah and his prophet Mohammed or you will now die". I was seriously considering changing my mind. Was God real? Where was he? I felt fear and hopelessness. As I was about to open my mouth I suddenly felt warm and loved. I knew I was safe. I knew Jesus was with me. I heard Jesus speak. He said " I am with you as I always was". My lips moved and I shouted " Jesus is God". I barely finished the sentence before the machette sliced through my neck.


I knew I was dead. It felt strangely good. I saw Jesus in front of me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a hug. All my pain was gone. I felt immeasurable love. He said " Well done Aabidah, welcome to my home. I have a room for you.


Consider the Christians around the world who are persecuted for their faith in Jesus. Many who die for their love of Jesus. Visit persecutedchurch.org and find out more. Pray for their protection.


Cheers
Greg hay

No comments:

Post a Comment