Born Muslim

Most people know that i’m pretty open about my beliefs. For as long as I can remember, my mother has been a believer who faithfully attended church, prayed for her family, and used every opportunity to teach us about God and His people. I could never imagine my mother without her faith; in fact, there would be little vocabulary to describe her outside of Christian terminology. I learned however that there was a time in her life where she did not fear God, and if you’ll bear with me, I’ll tell you the neat story.

The Story

I was the last of three children to enter the Hoskins home in the winter of eighty none-of-your-business. Previous to this time, my parents were not Christians per say, although they would align their beliefs with the Catholic church. As winter rolled in, so did I, and the time came when baby Adam entered the world. Labour and delivery went well, however problems began to arise as I was taken home from the hospital. Each time my mother would lay me down, I would stop breathing. This issue turned out to be an abscess in the back of my throat, which resulted in my first eight months spent in the hospital, breathing through tubes and assistant devices. During these precarious 8 months, there were a number of nurses and people that stuck with my family, all of which now hold the title of Aunty in my life, or as my brother would affectionately call them, “The God Squad”. These Christian ladies never knew my mom prior to these events, but faithfully prayed for my mom, and when I was healed, invited my mom to church, where she eventually became a believer.

The Question

If we look further into the story, we realize that this is a classic evangelism outreach strategy that churches try to drill into their congregants on a regular basis. I can think of numerous evangelistic campaigns where pastors encourage their flock to “be Jesus” to the people in their workplace, their schools and neighbourhoods. While I agree, with no reservations, about this strategy, I can’t help but think that this method is not exclusive to the Christian faith.

Track with me…

What if the God Squad had been Muslim, and my mom had been invited to a Mosque. What if everything that had been said about the care, the love and the compassion were attributed to those of the Islamic faith. If I were born into a Muslim household, would I be a Muslim? Would you?

The Answer

The last question was asked of me by a friend who was wrestling with their faith in their undergrad years. At the time, I answered a defiant NO, but I knew in my heart that I really didn’t know. At the time, my beliefs were based on my surroundings and environment. I went to church because if I didn’t, I’d soon find myself homeless (half-joking here). I knew about God’s love and could answer correctly in church because I was surrounded with sermons in the car, worship music in the house and prayers before meals and bed. There was little in me at the time of the question that I could base my faith on, because I knew that if I had been in different surroundings, I would’ve been a different person.

I am writing this article now because my answer has changed. Drastically. I am not a Christian because I grew up in a Christian home. I’m not a believer because that was the thing to do in my household. I’m not a believer because I studied at a Christian University, nor am I a believer because I was hired by a church. I am a believer because at the lowest point in my life, when I was willing to give my beliefs away to the highest bidder, Jesus was the only one that showed up to the auction. At that moment, if it had been someone else, I might have been a different person today, but Jesus showed up. What’s more is that he didn’t show up dressed in theological arguments, pretty reasoning, or promised behaviour modification; he didn’t show up asking anything of me. Rather, he sat with me as I grieved the death of my father and detoxed from drug abuse. He promised to walk with me for the rest of my life if I wanted it.

I am a believer because I met a person, not a noble way of life.

The Point

I write this to you Pastors, worship leaders, youth workers, associates and all who will listen, because life is tough. Sometimes we need that reminder, that we fell in love with a person, not with a title. We were saved by a person, not by 7 Habits that we adopted. At some point in our lives, we came to the understanding that there was nothing we could do to help ourselves, and when we came to terms with that reality and looked up from our tears, we saw Jesus.

Now, let’s put away the self-help sermons, the emotional worship hype, the desperate desire to be loved by the world, and invite the broken and hurting to know Jesus.

AH