I DARED TO CALL HIM FATHER
Chapter 5. The Crossroads
"O Father, my Father ... Father God."
Hesitantly, I spoke His name aloud. I tried different ways of speaking to Him. And then, as if something broke through for me I found myself trusting that He was indeed hearing me, just as my earthly father had always done
"Father, 0 my Father God," I cried, with growing confidence. My voice seemed unusually loud in the large bedroom as I knelt on the rug beside my bed. But suddenly that room wasn't empty any more. He was there! I could sense His Presence I could feel His hand laid gently on my head It was as ifI could see His eyes, filled with love and compassion. He was so close that I found my elf laying my head on His knees like a little girl sitting at her father's feet. For a long time I kelt there, sobbing quietly, floating in His love. I found myself talking with Him, apologizing for not having known Him before. And again came His loving compassion, like a warm blanket settling around me.
Now I recognized this as the same loving Presence 1 had met that fragrance-filled afternoon in my garden. The same Presence I had sensed often as I read the Bible.
"I am confused, Father," I said. "I have to get one thin g straight right away." I reached over to the bedside table where I kept the Bible and the Quran side by side. I picked up both books and lifted them, one in each hand. Which, Father?" I said. "Which one is Your book?"
Then a remarkable thing happened. Nothing like it had ever occurred in my life in quite this way. For I heard a voice inside my being, a voice that spoke to me as clearily as if I were repeating words in my inner mind. They were fresh, full of kindness, yet at the same time full of authority.
In which book do you meet Me as your Father? I found myself answering; "In the Bible." That's allit took. Now there was no question in my mind which one was His book. I looked at my watch and was astonished to discover that three hours had passed. Yet I was not tired. I wanted to go on praying, I wanted to read the Bible, for I knew now that my Father would speak through it. I went to bed only when I knewI must fo the sake of my health. But the very next morning I told my maids to see that I was not disturbed took my Bible again and redlined on my bed. Starting with Matthew, I began reading the New Testament word by word.
I was impressed that God spoke to His people in dreams, five times the first part of Mat- Iwas thew,in fact! He spoke to Joseph on behalf of Mary, He warned the wise men about Herod, and three more times He addressed Joseph concerning the protection of the Baby Jesus.
I couldn't find enough time for the Bible. Everythin g I read, it seemed, was directing me to take some kind of closer walk with God.
I found myself standing at a great crossroads. So far I had met, personally, the Father God In my heart I knew I had to give myself totally to His Son Jesus or else turn my back on Him completely.
And I knew for certain that everyone I loved would advise me to turn my back on Jesus. Into my mind crowded the memory of a special, precious day years before when my father took me to our family mosque, just the two of us. We stepped into the soaring vaulted chamber. Taking my hand, Father told me with great pride and with strong identification that many generations of our family had worshiped there. "What a privilege you have, my little Keecha, to be part of this ancient truth."
And I thought of Tooni. Surely this young woman had enough worries already. And there were my other children; although they lived far away, they too would be hurt if I ubecame a Christian." And then there was my Uncle Fateh, who had watched so proudly the day I was fou years, four months, four days old and began learning to read the Quran. And there was belovec Aunt Amina and all my other relatives, some hundred "uncles," "aunts" and "cousins." In the East, the family becomes bira deri, one community, with each member responsible to the other. could hurt the family in many ways, even interfere with the opportunities of my nieces getting married, as they would have to live in the shadow of my decision if I chose to join the "sweepers."
But most ofall I worried about my little grandson, Mahmud; what would happen to him? My heart caught at the thought of Mahmud's father. He was a very volatile man who might easily try to take the boy from me ifI became a Christian, therefore clearly demonstrating that I was unstable.
That day as I sat reading and thinking in my quiet room, these thoughts seared my heart. Sud- denly, the realization of the pain I might inflict on others became too much for me and I stood up, crying I threw a wrap around me and walked into the cold, winter garden, my refuge where it seemed, Icould think best.
"O Lord,"'I cried, as I paced the graveled path, "could You really want-me toleave my family? Can a God oflove want me to infict pain on others?" And in the darknes of my despair, allI could hear were His words, the words I had just read in Matthew "Anyone who puts his love for father or mother above his love for me does not deserve to be mine, and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me...."
Matthew 10:37-38
This Jesus did not compromise. He did not want any competition. His were hard, uncomfort, able words, words I did not want to hear.
Enough! Icouldn't take the pressure of the decision any onger. On impulse I ran back to the house, summoned Manzur and announced to the somewhat startled maidservant that I was going to Rawalpindi. I would be gone for a few days. She could reach me at my daughter's if there were need. Manzur drove me into Rawalpin di, where I did spend several days feverishly shopping, buying toys for Mahmud, per fumes and clothes for myself. Not surprisingly, as continued my spree, I found myself drifting away from the warmth of His Presence. Once when a shopkeeper spread out a piece of cloth and showed me the richly embroidered design, I sud denly saw the shape of the cross in the pattern. I snapped at the shopkeeper and fled. The next morning I went back to Wah neither determined to remain a Muslim nor determined to become a Christian.
Then one evening as I relaxed before the fire, I found myself picking up the Bible again. Mah mud was in bed. It was quiet in the living room. A wind in the garden rattled the windows; the fre snapped and hissed
I had read straight through all the gospels and the book of Acts, and that night l had reached the last book in the Bible. I was fascinated by Revelation, even though I understood very litle of it. I read as if directed, strangely confident. And then abruptly I came to a sentence that made the room spin. It was the 20th verse of the third chapter of Revelation:
"see, I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice and opens the door, wil go into his house and dine with him, and he with me."
And dine with Him, and He with me!
I gasped, letting the book fall in my lap. This was my dream,the dream where Jesus was having dinner with me! At the time I had had no knowledge of a book called Revelation. I closed my eyes and once again I could see Jesus sitting across the table from me. I could feel His warm smile, His acceptance. Why, the glory was there too! just as it had been with the Father. It was the glory that belonged to His Presencel
Now I knew that my dream had come from God The wav wras clear. I could accept Him, or reject Him. I could open the door, ask Him to come in permanently, or I could close the door. I would have to make my full decision now, one way or the other.
I made up my mind and knelt in front of the fire,
"O God, don't wait a moment. Please come into my life. Every bit of me is open to You." I did not have to struggle or worry about what would happen. I had said yes. Christ was in my life now, and I knew it.
How unbearably beautiful. Within a few days I had met God the Father and God the Son. I got up and went to bed, my mind whirling, Did I dare take one more step? I remembered that in the book of Acts, at Pentecost, Jesus had baptized His followers with the Holy Spirit. Was I supposed to follow this same pattern?
"Lord," I said, as I laid my head back on my pillow, '1 have no one to guide me except You Yourself, If You intend for me to receive this baptism in the Holy Spirit, then of course I want what You want I am ready." Knowing I had placed myself completely in His hands, I drifted off to sleep.
It was still dark when I was awakened in a state of vibrant expectancy that morning of De- cember 24, 1966.1 looked at my luminescent clock and the hands pointed to 3:00 A.m. The room was bitterlv cold but I was burning with excitement.
I crawled out of'bed and sank to my knees on the cold rug, As I looked up, I seemed to be look- ing into a great light. Hot tears flowed down my face as I raised my hands to Him and cried out "O father God, baptize me with Your Holy Spirit! I took my Bible and opened it to where the Lord said:
"John used to baptize with water, but before many days are passed you willbe bap- tized with the ioly $pirit"
Acts 1:5
Lord," I cried, "if these words of Yours are true, then give this baptism to me now." I crumpled face down on the chilled floor where I lay crying, 'Lord," I sobbed, "l'll never want to get up from this place until You give me this baptism."
Suddenly, I was filled with wonder and awe. For in that silent, pre-dawn room I saw His face Something surged through me, wave after wave of purifying ocean breakers, flooding me to the tips of my fingers and toes, washing my soul
Then the powerful surges subsided, the heavenly ocean quieted. I was completely cleansed. Joy exploded within me and I cried out praising Him, thanking Him.
I felt the Lord lift me to my feet. He wanted me to get up now. Ilooked out the windows and saw that it was nearly dawn.
"O Lord;" I said, as 1 lay back in my bed. Could the heaven you speak of'be any better than this? To know You is joy, to worship You is happiness, to be near You is peace. This is heaven"
I doubt if I slept two hours that early dawn. In no time at all my maidservants came in to help me dress. For the frst moming that could remember, I did not say one cross word to them. In- stead there was an air of calm and peace in the sun-floo ded room Raisham actually hummeda in sun- song as she brushed my hair, something she had never done before.
All that day I roamed through my house, silently praising God, hardly able to contain the joy within myself. At lunch, Mahmud looked up from his pancakes and said: Mum, you look sc smiley; what has -happened to you?"
I reached over and tousled his shiny black hair. "Give him some halwa," I told the cook. This dish made from wheat, butter and sugar was his favorite sweet Itold Mahmud that we would be celebrating Christmas at the Mitchells' home,
"Christmas?" said Mahmud
"It's a holiday," I said, "a litle like the Eid a fter Ramazan." That, Mahmud did understang Ramazan was the month of the Muslim vear when Muhammad received his first revelation. So for this month, each year, Musilims fast from sunrise to sunset each day until at last the drums thunder in the streets and we break our fast with dates, sweet and sour fruit, spinach lcaves dipped in batter and fried, delicately cooked eggplant, succulent kababs.
Eid marks the end of Ramazan and is celebrated by special prayers, visiting family and friends and exchanging gifts. Christmas I supposed would indeed be a little like that. And I was right When David met us at the door of the Mitchells' house, the scent of delicious cooked foods floated around him, and laughter sounded from within the room.
"Come in! Come in!" he exclaimed, drawing us into the living room filled with a holiday spirit. A Christmas tree glowed in the corner and the laughter of the two Mitchell children, one just a little older, the other younger than Mahmud, rang out from another room. Mahmud happily joined them at their play.
I could not contain my joy any longer. "David!" I cried, using his first name without thinking, 'Iam a Christian nowl I have been baptized in the Holy Spirit!"
He stared at me for a moment, then drew me into the house. " Who told you about the Holy Spirit baptism?" he asked, his blue eyes wide. He began laughing joyously and praising God Hearing his Hallelujah!" Synnøve rushed into the room from the kitchen and David again asked, "Who told you?"
"Jesus told me," I laughed, and held up my Bible, "I read it in Acts 1:8.1 said to Jesus, 1f Your disciples--who walked with You, who talked with You, who could reach out and touch You needed the baptism of the Holy Spirit, how much more do I, a lonely woman in this village, need to be filled with your Holy Spirit""
Both David and Synnøve looked bewildered. But then suddenly they rushed to me. Synnøve put her arms around me and broke into tears. David joined her. Then the three of us stood there, arms around each other, praising God for what He had done.
That night I began a diary into which I put all the wonderful things the Lord had been doing for me. If I should die andIhadno idea what might happen to me once word got out that I had become a Christian - at least I wanted this record of my experience to remain. As I sat at my desk writing my experiences, I did not realize that He was making preparations to begin my education.
