This is the first in a series of posts about a friend of mine. I met him here in the host country early in his conversion from the dominant religion of the region to Christianity. He’s since fled the country with his wife.
The following is adapted from an e-mail. I’ve omitted information which might compromise their safety and I’ve cleaned up the English for readability. For the sake of the narrative, I’ve preserved his voice. This is a true story.
The flight was delayed three hours. Those three hours were so long, so heavy and tough. We were so tired and sleepy, and still affected by the stress we were under until we could leave in peace. All we did was pray and pray. We were both so worried but we didn’t show each other how we really felt. Honestly, I thought that things would not go well but we had no other choice. As I took a nap in my chair, the sound of my wife crying woke me up. She was shaking. I tried to be strong. I hugged her saying “Don’t worry.” We prayed again. I was praying in my heart to my Savior:“Lord, you have been with since I was a Muslim. You brought A. into my path to teach me the faith. You were with me when my family was angry with me. You were with me when I lived on the streets in a foreign country. You used me to bring my wife into your kingdom. You were with us in an amazing way last month. Please, help us now. Your children need you.” I didn’t yet feel that things would be fine, but believe me, I felt like the Lord told me that there was a lesson in this experience that we both needed to learn. As we boarded the plane, the security guard asked to check our passports and visas. I wondered if he could see how anxious we were.
The flight was almost seven hours long. We couldn’t eat anything during the flight. I kept praying. My wife read the Bible. I could sleep only for an hour at a time. She was awake the whole flight. We didn’t talk to each other even though I hugged her closely. Yes we were scared, so scared, when we should have trusted the Lord’s promises in our life. When we finally landed in our new host country, I said in my heart, “Lord, could this trip have been any longer?”
We went out of the plane hand in hand, afraid of what might happen. We walked with everybody to passport control, where we waited in the line with almost one hundred other passengers. Fifteen minutes later, we moved to the counter to have our passports stamped. When we reached the lady at the counter, I opened the two passports, and told her, “We want to apply for asylum!” The lady looked at us both and said, “Oh God, what a day! Ok don’t worry, come with me.” She picked up two small forms and took us to a separate place in the passport control area. She left and five minutes later returned holding what appeared to be two files. An officer was with her. Holding up my passport, he came to me and asked “Is this your document?” I said that it was. The woman looked at my wife and asked “Who is she?” I told her. She signed the two forms and then disappeared with the officer for a while. We were treated so rudely by the woman and the officer that my wife started crying silently. I wanted to cry too.
to be continued…