{"title":"Lynda Fitzgerald","author":{"id":2303,"name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","slug":"lynda_fitzgerald","image":"\/uploads\/users\/non-profile.jpg","role":"Author","about":"","promote":0,"status":1,"created_at":"2014-08-28T08:00:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2014-08-28T08:00:00.000000Z","language_id":1,"parent_id":null,"i18ns":[],"image_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/users\/non-profile.jpg","get_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald"},"books":{"current_page":1,"data":[],"first_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?books_page=1","from":null,"last_page":1,"last_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?books_page=1","links":[{"url":null,"label":"« Previous","page":null,"active":false},{"url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?books_page=1","label":"1","page":1,"active":true},{"url":null,"label":"Next »","page":null,"active":false}],"next_page_url":null,"path":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303","per_page":25,"prev_page_url":null,"to":null,"total":0},"videos":{"current_page":1,"data":[],"first_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?videos_page=1","from":null,"last_page":1,"last_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?videos_page=1","links":[{"url":null,"label":"« Previous","page":null,"active":false},{"url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?videos_page=1","label":"1","page":1,"active":true},{"url":null,"label":"Next »","page":null,"active":false}],"next_page_url":null,"path":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303","per_page":25,"prev_page_url":null,"to":null,"total":0},"audios":{"current_page":1,"data":[],"first_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?audios_page=1","from":null,"last_page":1,"last_page_url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?audios_page=1","links":[{"url":null,"label":"« Previous","page":null,"active":false},{"url":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303?audios_page=1","label":"1","page":1,"active":true},{"url":null,"label":"Next »","page":null,"active":false}],"next_page_url":null,"path":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/index.php\/may\/api\/authors\/2303","per_page":25,"prev_page_url":null,"to":null,"total":0},"articles":{"current_page":1,"data":[{"id":1647,"title":"Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland","slug":"lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catholic-ireland","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catholic-ireland","hint":"","body":"

Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\"\"
<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 (part 1 of 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

Introduction<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lynda Fitzgerald, now known as Khadija, is an Irish girl from a town called Wicklow, close to Dublin.  She hails from a very strict Roman Catholic family, comprising of nine children.  Her father is an Electrician and her mother a Housewife.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lynda was educated in Wicklow and then went on to Secretarial College.  She has worked in Dublin for nine years.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Khadija, as she is now called, reverted to Islam, after having come to Saudi Arabia.  She relates, in this article, the sequence of events that brought her to this Holy Land and introduced her to the right path.  May God Bless her.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

How I Came To Saudi Arabia<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

I was in a young people’s club.  We would meet every Monday and then go to the pub afterwards.  Sometimes I went, but mostly I went home after the meetings.  One night, a new girl had started in the club, and I decided to go to the pub to talk to her and make her feel welcome.  It turned out that she worked for a recruiting agency that recruited for Saudi Arabia.  She started to tell me all about it.  I was fascinated.  I had hardly even heard of Saudi Arabia before that.  As the night went on I got more and more interested and by the time I left the pub I really wanted to go to Saudi.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I applied for a job that year, 1993 but I didn’t get it.  So, I didn’t think about it for a while.  I went home for Christmas and was very bored, and I decided I just had to do something different with my life.  All my friends had boyfriends or were married and had moved on to different things.  I suddenly found myself with no ties.  When I went back to the city after Christmas, I rang that girl in the recruiting agency and asked her to put me forward for any job that came up in Saudi Arabia.  She said ‘You won’t believe it.  I just got a fax from the Security Forces Hospital looking for a secretary’.  I was here by 15 March 1994.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

My First Impressions of Islam<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

When you come to Saudi Arabia the first thing the other Westerners will tell you is how terrible the Muslims are, how badly they treat their women, how they all go off to pray and don’t come back for hours, how they all go to Bahrain to drink and pick up women.  You’re prejudiced right from the start…and you think that’s Islam.  But it’s not Islam.  Unfortunately the majority of westerners fail to see that.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

How I Changed That View<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

For me, I was curious from the start.  I’d see the people praying in the mosque, and I thought it was great to have such strong faith to worship God so much.  I would see leaflets lying around and pick them up to read them, but then my Western friends would say “what do you want to read that for, they’re only trying to brainwash you,” and I was embarrassed and I stopped doing it.  Then I started taking Arabic lessons and the Arabic teacher, an Egyptian guy, really impressed me.  He was so different from a lot of the Muslims I’d met.  His faith was so strong.  I got friendly with him because I was having some trouble with a Muslim guy in work and I needed someone to talk to about it.  I would get all upset and blame it all on Islam, and he would be really patient and explain things to me, and he helped me to see that it wasn’t Islam and that not all Muslims behaved like this.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Another thing the Westerners will tell you is that all the Muslims want to do is revert you, and that they’ll try and brainwash you.  So, of course, you’re very wary if anyone tries to talk to you about Islam, and you put up a wall between you and them, and you won’t listen to anything that they tell you.  So, with Khaled, he never talked about Islam unless I brought up the subject first, or I incorrectly blamed something on Islam; and sometimes I would practically attack him unfairly about something that had nothing whatsoever to do with Islam.  He always remained calm and was very patient and it was very clear that he just wanted me to know the truth, he just wanted me to see that I was being unfair and I had been misinformed.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Then it was Ramadan.  A lot of the Saudi guys in work were moaning and complaining “we can smell food, you guys shouldn’t be eating in your offices, you should have more respect for us”.  I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t even have a cup of water on my desk, after all they were supposed to be making a sacrifice for God, they shouldn’t care if I had a cup of water on my desk.  The following extract from my diary shows how I felt at the beginning of Ramadan.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“It’s Ramadan.  My goodness, what a month.  It’s so annoying.  You can’t even mention the word food.  They’re all going around like mega martyrs and most of them aren’t even working.  They only have to do six hours a day so they just stay up all night and eat and make the rest of us feel like complete pagans during the day.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

My friend, Khaled, tried to explain some of it to me.  He explained about praying late at night and trying extra hard to be good and not use bad language or [complain] or backbite and how you had to give more in charity.  He said that some westerners tried fasting to see what it was like, and some of them liked it so much that they did it every year.  One morning I woke up and I decided, I’m going to fast.  So I did.  I didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Khaled, at first, but he realized it himself eventually.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

One day, I went to see him and he said he had something he wanted me to read.  He brought a copy of the Quran to show me a passage about Jesus (PBUH) and when he put it in my hands it was like he had given me a precious piece of crystal.  I felt awed.  I didn’t want to give it back to him, but I felt stupid and I was afraid he’d laugh if I told him how I felt.  So I gave it back to him but it burned inside me for days until finally he actually said it to me himself “why don’t you read the Quran” and it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders and I brought it home and started reading it that night.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(part 2 of 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

The Quran<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Two things happened to me while I was reading the Quran.  Firstly, I was reading the following Surah (Surah II (Al Baqara - 21) and I just stopped reading.  I shut my eyes and I thought about God.  Suddenly I got a feeling of the oneness of God, of the superiority of God.  I could see that he would have no reason to have a partner.  I just couldn’t see anyone there with him on the same level with him, why would he need anyone.  He wouldn’t, I was so sure of that.  A strange peace came over me and I felt really sure that there is no God but God.  I just wanted that feeling to last forever, but it went within a couple of minutes.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

The second was when I was reading Surah Al Hajj (22-5).  Again I closed my eyes and I had a picture of the world, barren and new born.  I saw a mound of earth and a seed growing into a tree and I thought. “Where did that seed come from?”  Where did all the beautiful variety of plants that you find all over the world come from.  It could only have come from God.  Again I felt peace, and I felt the wonder of God.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

The Months Before I Reverted<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

These had to be the hardest and the best months of my life.  Sometimes I was on a high and sometimes I felt utter despair.  This is an extract from my diary in April:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Something weird is happening to me and I just don’t know how I feel about it, whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing, whether my imagination is running away with me or whether I’m just letting myself be brainwashed.  Then again, it could be what’s right and what’s meant to be.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

The thing is, I’ve been studying Islam and I’m really thinking of reverting - God help me.  At the moment, I just don’t know what to think, the whole thing scares the living daylights out of me.  I never thought this kind of thing could happen to me.  I certainly didn’t want to be reverted.  I always considered myself a catholic, I always believed in God and I always believed that Jesus was the son of God.  Now I’m questioning all that, I’m questioning everything I was brought up to believe in and my whole way of life.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I would think about Islam from the time I got up in the morning until I went home in the evening.  After a while, when I’d hear the adhan, I would get a really strong desire to pray, and in the beginning I would pray in the old Christian way.  Then, I asked one of the guys in work for a book on how to pray and he gave me one.  I read that book, I watched the people praying on TV, and I asked a lot of questions.  Then I started praying.  Still, no one knew about it except two guys at work.  The Egyptian guy and another Jordanian guy who is also a really good Muslim.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

In the beginning, I would pray without covering my hair.  I didn’t know that I was supposed to, and when someone finally did tell me I just couldn’t figure out the reason why.  I had a long argument about it with Khaled one day in work, and I still couldn’t fathom it.  Then, when I was going home that evening, I was walking up to catch the bus and I got a feeling of the superiority of God and how small and insignificant I was compared to him, I felt as small as an ant with the whole world stretched out before me, and I knew that I should cover my head when I was praying, because he could see every movement that I made, and I had no right to be proud, and I should do everything I could to please him.  I never doubted again that I should cover my head whilst praying.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

My diary 23 April 1995<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

“Well, I’m still not sure what I’m doing.  Some times it seems so clear and I think ‘Yes, I believe and I want to shout it out.’  Then other times I feel really unsure and doubtful and afraid, and I just don’t know what I’m doing.  The thing is though.  Besides anything else, it is a really good religion.  The Quran is quite beautiful and everything is in there - how to behave, how to pray, what to do, what not to do.  There’s none of that in the Catholic church, besides the fact that they change it from time to time to suit themselves.  If you follow this religion you can’t be bad, not to anyone.  You can only be kind and patient and tolerant and you can never forget God because you are worshipping him five times a day.  I love to pray, I always did.  It helps you to remember all the good things you have in life and where they came from and you should be grateful for that always.  It brings peace in to your life.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Sometimes, I was really glad that I had found out about Islam, and sometimes I wished I’d never heard of it, because now that I knew the truth, I realized that I had no choice but to revert, but I was still hanging on to the old life; even though I had given up drinking and going to parties, I was afraid of loosing my western friends and the prejudice I would have to face once I started covering my head.  I talked about it to Khaled so many times, and each time I said, ‘I’ll never have the courage to wear the hijab’ and each time he said, ‘when God wills it, you’ll have the courage.’<\/span><\/p>\r\n

My diary: My problem is I’m a natural born coward.  I dread the thoughts of people’s reaction when I start covering my head.  How could I ever tell my mother or Liz in Australia.  How can I go to Australia or even Ireland and cover my head - I don’t think I can face it you know.  God give me strength.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(part 3 of 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Changing My Job<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

There had been a freeze on recruitment at my hospital, and then in June they suddenly opened up for recruitment, and there were two jobs that I could go for.  One was in the Personnel Department, and the other was in the Education and Training Department.  I had a choice of both jobs, and both Directors were really pushing me to take their department.  If I went to the Personnel Department I would be right in the middle of things, and I would know everything that was going on in the hospital, and I would have more chance of getting a pay rise in the future.  If I went to Education, I knew there was more chance that people would find out about me being a Muslim, and I would have to start covering my head.  For weeks I worried and fretted about what to do.  Suddenly it became very important for me to be in the middle of things and to know what was going on in the hospital and to be in such a strong position, but still something was stopping me.  Finally my Jordanian friend told me to say two extra Raka’s after my prayer in the evening and to ask for God’s guidance.  I did that for days and it just didn’t seem to be working.  I think I knew that I had to go to Education but there was a constant battle going on inside me, I was afraid of people finding out, I was afraid of having to face them and thoughts kept creeping into my head about what a powerful position I’d be in if I went to Personnel.  Then, one night I was reading the Quran, and it occurred to me that all those things didn’t mean anything to me, money, gossip, power.  They never had.  So why had they suddenly become so attractive and I thought, it’s Shaytaan trying to convince me, because he knows if I go to Education, then I’d have more support, because there were more Muslims in the department, and I’d get more involved in the religion.  And it was like a cloud had lifted, and I made up my mind, and I couldn’t wait for the next day to come so that I could tell my boss my decision.  Of course, I went to Education.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Wearing the Hijab<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

After that things moved pretty rapidly.  I started going to the mosque to pray and I had a lot of support in the Education department.  Then my boss, who is (strictly religious), found out and started pressing me to cover my head.  So I had to think about it seriously.  I didn’t want to do it for the wrong reason.  I wanted to do it because I was ready and when I knew that I could put it on and never take it off again.  Then my boss went on Holidays, and I felt the pressure was off me, but still I was thinking about it all the time.  I had constant arguments with my friend about wearing it and the reason why and I still wasn’t convinced.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

One weekend, I was at a friends house on the compound, and some new girls had arrived and I got talking to them.  They were really nice, and I felt I could be friends with them, but then I thought, ‘OK, new people are coming and it is only going to get harder and harder.  Maybe if they see me with the hijab from the start, then they will accept it and not question it as much.’  I decided to start wearing it the next day.  Here’s an extract from my diary:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“So I think I’m going to cover my head tomorrow.  One half of me feels it’s the right time, the other half is screaming at me not to.  I’m trying to ignore that half.  It’s just so hard to know what to do.  What if I hate if after a day, or a week; or I realize I made a mistake after a week or a month.  There’s no turning back, not unless I want to loose all respect.  When am I ever going to be 100% sure, when will I ever be any more sure than this.  I have to take that chance, I have to believe that if it’s what God wants, then I’ll get through it.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I’m having a panic attack now.  Help!  Do I really believe in this religion?  Do I really want to live my life like this?  Do I want to spend every night and every weekend alone?  Help!  Help!  Help!  Oh God, why is this so hard?  Why am I such a wuss?  29 years of age and still acting like a 5 year old.  How have I made decisions in the past when I can’t seem to get it together on this one at all?  I’m not even a really good person, I have to work hard at being even half way good.  Right now, I’d like to get out of this country, go to a disco, dance wildly, get drunk, scream, shout, and sing.  Can I face the rest of my life knowing I can’t drink, can’t have a boyfriend, and can’t go outdoors without covering my head.  If Kate was here right now, I think I’d ring her and ask her to make me a marguerita.  But she’s not!  I think the Devils working overtime on me right now.  And people think I’m a sensible person you know.  It’d make you laugh, wouldn’t it?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I’m determined I’m going to do it.  I’ve got to do it.  At least, if nothing else, I might come to my senses and realize what a fool I am, at most I’ll realize that I made the right decision, and I’m on the right track – enshallah [God-willing].”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I didn’t sleep a wink that night.  Right up to the last minute I didn’t think I’d have the courage to do it.  But just before I went out the door I put it on.  I never looked back.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

It was like all the doubts were gone.  It was like Shaytaan had left me.  I felt proud.  I felt like I was walking ten feet tall.  I wanted everyone to know that I was a Muslim.  I was proud to be a Muslim.  I knew that I had made the right decision and I would never regret it.  Subhan Allah [May God be glorified], He made it very easy for me.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (part 4 of 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Reverting<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Two weeks later I went to the Dawa center.  I was really frightened and I was afraid I would say something wrong.  My friend Khaled and his wife brought me and it was very emotional.  At the end, all of us had tears in our eyes.  I cried all the way home in the car.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Up to Date<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Still, everything wasn’t as it should be.  In changing my lifestyle, I had become a complete TV addict.  My whole life now revolved around prayer and TV in the evening.  I wasn’t happy about it, but I was too lazy to do anything about it.  I would try to read my Islamic books, but I just felt that I couldn’t take in any more.  Then rumors about me were going around the hospital, and they started to get back to me.  This really upset me, because I hated my life to be the subject of every ones curiosity, and I hated to be the brunt of backbiting and rumors.  I went home from work one evening, and I felt that I just couldn’t face it any longer.  I hated coming in and watching TV all night and seeing and talking to no one, and the weekends had become a nightmare.  I might not see anyone all weekend.  I felt lost and alone.  It came time for Isha prayer that night and I just didn’t want to do it.  This had never happened to me before and it really upset me.  I cried solidly for two hours.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

The next day my eyes were really swollen and I cried on and off all day.  Khaled kept asking me what was wrong and at first I just couldn’t tell him, because I felt so ashamed, even though I had done the prayer because I knew I had to.  Eventually I told him and he reassured me that even he felt that way sometimes and not to feel bad about it or get upset about it.  What I needed was to change my lifestyle, play tennis, go shopping, read a book.  I kept arguing that that wouldn’t help because I still needed people to talk to, I would still be lonely.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

That night I went home, and I felt I was really loosing it, I felt I just couldn’t go on.  After my prayer I prostrated myself and I prayed really hard “Please God, don’t let me loose you, please don’t let me loose you.”  I sat up and turned to the short verses in the back of the Quran and I found Al-Taakathur, and after reading it I realized that I had to let go of all these things I was still attached to, like the TV and worrying about people and what they thought about me.  I had to learn to let go.  And I felt all my worries leaving me as if they were coming out of my back and floating away.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

The next day at Fajr, when I finished my prayer, I got a feeling that I should put my hands in front of me while I was saying my Du’ua.  I had seen people doing this but I never understood what it was for.  I put out my hands and I prayed for God to help me to let go and to try harder to be a better person.  Then I put my hands up to my face and I felt a tingling sensation and a sense of well being and peace and for ages. I was afraid to move in case it went away.  But it didn’t.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

That day at work, I had a visit from a guy in the Computer department - Anwer.  I had never met him before but he had heard about me.  He told me about the Rajhi mosque, and that there were lectures in English on a Friday.  I decided that I would go that Friday.  That week I didn’t watch any TV, and I played tennis and then I asked one of our limo drivers that I trusted to bring me to the mosque.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Friday morning, I got very nervous and at the last minute, I felt that I didn’t want to go.  What if I went to the wrong Mosque, what if I did everything wrong.  Just as I was going out the door, I prayed to God to guide me and to let everything turn out OK.  And, everything did turn out OK.  I met the Sameers’, an expatriate family from Sri Lanka, living and working in Saudi Arabia, my new family, and they took me in to their home and treated me like one of their own.  May God bless them and reward them and I thank Him every day for choosing them and for letting me meet them.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>","excerpt":"","terms":null,"visibility_roles":"","comment_status":1,"comment_count":0,"read_counter":12030,"lft":3071,"rght":3082,"promote":1,"sticky":0,"status":1,"publish_start":null,"publish_end":null,"created_at":"2014-08-29T00:23:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2026-04-07T11:36:01.000000Z","language_id":1,"user_id":7,"author_id":2303,"publisher_id":0,"category_id":10,"parent_id":null,"author_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","category_name":"Why I became a Muslim!","category_slug":"Why-I-became-a-Muslim!","get_date":"2014-08-29","pdf_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","word_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx"},{"id":1648,"title":"Lynda Fitzgerald, ex cat\u00f3lica, Irlanda","slug":"lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catlica-irlanda","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catlica-irlanda","hint":"","body":"

Lynda Fitzgerald, ex católica, Irlanda<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\"\"<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

<\/h1>\r\n

 (parte 1 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

Introducción<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lynda Fitzgerald, ahora conocida como Jadiya, es una joven irlandesa proveniente de un pueblo llamado Wicklow, cercano a Dublín. Es originaria de una familia católica apostólica romana muy severa, compuesta por nueve hijos, su padre es electricista y su madre ama de casa.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Fue educada en Wicklow, luego asistió a una escuela de secretariado, y trabajó en Dublín durante nueve años.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Jadiya, como es llamada ahora, se convirtió al Islam tiempo después de haberse mudado a Arabia Saudita. En este artículo relata la secuencia de sucesos que la trajeron a esta Tierra Sagrada y la introdujeron al sendero acertado. ¡Dios la bendiga!<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Cómo vine a Arabia Saudita<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Formaba parte de un club de gente joven. Cada lunes nos reuníamos para conocernos y más tarde nos dirigíamos al bar. A veces iba al bar, pero generalmente regresaba a casa después de las reuniones. Una noche una muchacha se integró al club así que decidí ir al bar para hablarle de modo que se sintiera bienvenida. Resulta que trabajaba en una agencia reclutadora que hacía alistamientos para Arabia Saudita. Me contó todo sobre ello y yo estaba fascinada. Antes de eso apenas había oído hablar de Arabia Saudita. A medida que la noche pasaba me interesé más y más; y para cuando dejé el bar realmente deseaba ir a Arabia Saudita.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ese año, 1993, solicité un empleo aunque no lo conseguí. Por un tiempo no pensé en el asunto, me fui a casa a pasar navidad y estaba muy aburrida; así que decidí que debía darle un giro diferente a mi vida. Todas mis amigas tenían novios o estaban casadas y habían avanzado hacia entornos diferentes. Repentinamente me encontré sin ataduras. Cuando regresé a la ciudad, luego de la navidad, telefoneé a la muchacha de la agencia reclutadora y le pedí que me colocara a disposición de cualquier empleo que surgiera en Arabia Saudita. Dijo: “No lo creerás, acabo de recibir un fax del Hospital de las Fuerzas de Seguridad, buscan una secretaria”. El 15 de Marzo de 1994 me encontraba aquí.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mis primeras impresiones del Islam<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lo primero que el resto de los occidentales comentan cuando uno llega a Arabia Saudita es lo terrible que son los musulmanes, cómo maltratan a sus mujeres, cómo todos se marchan para rezar y no regresan por horas, como todos se marchan a Bahrain para beber y conquistar mujeres... Se comienza adjudicándoles prejuicios, entonces uno piensa que el Islam es así. Sin embargo, el Islam no es así y desafortunadamente la mayoría de los occidentales fracasan cuando se trata de entender eso.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Cómo cambió mi perspectiva<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

A mí, desde el inicio, me generó curiosidad. Veía a las personas rezar en la mezquita y pensaba que era grandioso tener semejante fe y devoción hacia Dios. Encontraba folletos tendidos por ahí y los tomaba para leerlos; sin embargo, mis amigos occidentales decían: “Para qué lo lees, no tiene sentido leerlos, solamente tratan de lavarte el cerebro”, y como me sentía avergonzada dejaba de hacerlo. Luego comencé a tomar lecciones de idioma árabe, y mi profesor, un hombre egipcio, me causó una gran impresión. Era muy diferente a la mayoría de los musulmanes a quienes había conocido. Su fe era tan fuerte. Me convertí en su amiga ya que tenía algunos problemas con un hombre musulmán en el trabajo y necesitaba a alguien con quien hablar al respecto. Me angustiaba por ello y echaba la culpa de todo al Islam; a pesar de eso, él era muy paciente, me explicaba las cosas y me ayudó a darme cuenta de que no se trataba del Islam y que no todos los musulmanes se comportaban de esa forma.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Otra de las cosas que los occidentales le dicen a uno es que todo lo que los musulmanes quieren es convertirte y lavarte el cerebro. Por ende, uno desconfía de cualquiera que trata de hablarte acerca del Islam y levanta una pared entre uno y ellos y, en consecuencia, no escucha nada de lo que quieren contarte. Sin embargo, Jaled jamás habló del Islam a menos que yo sacara el tema primero o culpara al Islam erróneamente. A veces incluso lo atacaba injustamente por algo que no tenía relación alguna con el Islam. Él siempre permanecía calmo, era muy paciente y advertía claramente que sólo deseaba que yo supiera la verdad, que me percatara de que estaba siendo injusta o había sido mal informada.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Pronto comenzó Ramadán. Muchos sauditas en el trabajo se quejaban: “Podemos oler comida, no deberían comer en las oficinas, deben tratarnos con  más respeto”. No comprendía por qué ni siquiera podía tener un vaso de agua sobre mi escritorio, al fin y al cabo, se suponía que se sacrificaban por Dios, no  debía importarles que tuviese un vaso de agua sobre mi escritorio. El siguiente extracto de mi diario íntimo revela cómo me sentía en el principio de Ramadán:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Estamos en Ramadán. ¡Cielo Santo, qué mes! Es tan molesto... Ni siquiera se puede mencionar la palabra comida. Van de un lado al otro como si fueran mega mártires, cuando la mayoría de ellos ni están trabajando. Sólo tienen que hacer seis horas por día, luego se quedan levantados toda la noche comiendo y hacen que el resto de nosotros nos sintamos totalmente paganos durante el día”.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Jaled, mi amigo, trató de explicarme algo al respecto. Me explicó acerca de orar tarde por la noche y esforzarse arduamente para ser una buena persona, y no utilizar malas palabras, quejarse o difamar y ser más caritativo. Me contó sobre ciertos occidentales que probaron el ayuno para saber de qué se trataba y cómo a algunos de ellos les gustó tanto que lo llevaron a cabo cada año. Una mañana me desperté y decidí ayunar. Lo hice. No se lo mencioné a nadie en un principio ni a Jaled, aunque eventualmente se percató por su cuenta.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Un día fui a verlo y me dijo que tenía algo que quería que leyera. Trajo una copia del Corán para mostrarme un pasaje sobre Jesús, la paz sea con él, y cuando la colocó entre mis manos sentí como si me hubiese entregado un precioso trozo de cristal. Me sentí desbordada, no quería devolvérselo, pero me sentí estúpida y temía que se riera si le decía cómo me sentía, al punto que se lo di. Sin embargo, por días sentí que algo dentro de mí me quemaba, hasta que finalmente él mismo me sugirió: “¿Por qué no lees el Corán?”; y fue como si levantaran un enorme peso de mis hombros. Lo llevé a casa y comencé a leerlo esa noche.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(parte 2 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

El Corán<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Dos cosas me sucedieron mientras leía el Corán. En primer lugar, estaba leyendo la siguiente Surah [Al Baqara] (el segundo capítulo del Corán, versículo 21) y simplemente dejé de leer. Cerré mis ojos y pensé en Dios. De repente sentí la unicidad de Dios, la supremacía de Dios. Pude percibir que no había razón para que tuviese un socio. Sencillamente, no veía a alguien con Él que estuviese a Su altura. ¿Por qué necesitaría a alguien? No necesitaba, estaba tan segura al respecto. Me envolvió una extraña sensación de paz y realmente supe con seguridad que no había otro Dios más que Dios. Lo único que quería era que esa sensación que me envolvía durara para siempre, pero desapareció en un par de minutos.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lo segundo me sucedió mientras leía Surah Al Hayy (22:5). Cerré mis ojos nuevamente y vislumbré una fotografía del mundo: desolado y nacido de nuevo.  Vi un montículo de tierra y una semilla convirtiéndose en árbol, y pensé “¿De dóndevino esa semilla?” “¿De dónde provienen todas las hermosas variedades de plantas que se encuentran por todo el planeta?” Únicamente pueden provenir de Dios. Sentí otra vez la paz y maravilla de Dios.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Los meses previos a mi conversión<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Esos debieron ser los mejores y más difíciles meses en mi vida. Hubo veces en que me sentía en la cima y otras veces completamente desesperada. Este extracto de mi diario transcurre en el mes de Abril:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Algo raro está ocurriéndome y no sé cómo me siento acerca de eso, no sé si es una cosa buena o mala, si estoy dejándome llevar por mi imaginación o si estoy dejándome lavar el cerebro. Aunque también podría ser lo correcto, lo que debiera ser.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lo cierto es que estuve estudiando el Islam y realmente estoy pensando en convertirme… Dios me ayude. Por el momento simplemente no sé qué pensar, todo este asunto me asusta tanto que me eriza la piel. Nunca pensé que esta clase de cosa podría ocurrirme. Indudablemente no quería convertirme. Siempre me consideré católica, siempre creí en Dios y siempre creí que Jesús era el hijo de Dios. Ahora estoy cuestionando todo, estoy cuestionando todo mi estilo de vida y todo lo que se me enseñó que debía creer”.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Pensaba en el Islam desde que me levantaba en la mañana hasta que regresaba a casa por la noche. Acto seguido, cuando escuchaba el adhan<\/em>, sentía un intenso deseo de orar, y al principio oraba en la forma cristiana. Luego le pedí a uno de mis colegas del trabajo un libro sobre cómo rezar y me dio uno. Leí el libro, observé a las personas rezar en la televisión e hice muchas preguntas. En seguida empecé a orar. En aquel tiempo nadie estaba al tanto de ello excepto dos colegas del trabajo, el egipcio y un jordano, también muy buen musulmán.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Al principio oraba sin cubrirme el cabello. No sabía que se suponía que debía hacerlo; cuando alguien finalmente me lo dijo sencillamente no comprendí el motivo. Una vez en el trabajo discutí largo y tendido con Jaled al respecto, aún así no pude asimilarlo. Más tarde aquella noche, mientras caminaba para tomar el ómnibus, sentí la superioridad de Dios y lo pequeña e insignificante que era en comparación; me sentí como una hormiga ante el mundo extendido frente a mí y comprendí que debía cubrir mi cabeza mientras oraba ya que Dios sabía todo lo que yo hacia, que no tenía derecho de ser orgullosa y que debía complacerlo en todo lo posible. Jamás dudé otra vez en cuanto a cubrirme la cabeza durante la oración.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mi diario íntimo - 23 de Abril de 1995<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

“Bien, todavía no estoy segura de lo que hago. Hay momentos en que parece todo tan claro y pienso: “Sí, lo creo y quiero gritarlo”. Después, hay veces en que me siento muy insegura, indecisa  y asustada, tan sólo no sé qué estoy haciendo. Esto es muy duro. Aparte de eso es una muy buena religión. El Corán es  maravilloso y está todo ahí: cómo comportarse, cómo rezar, qué hacer, qué no hacer. No hay como eso en la iglesia católica, además del hecho de que cambian de vez en cuando según su conveniencia. Quien sigue esta religión no puede tener maldad para con nadie. Solamente se puede ser amable, paciente y tolerante, y nunca se puede olvidar a Dios ya que se lo venera cinco veces al día. Amo rezar, siempre fue así. Ayuda a que uno recuerde todas las cosas buenas de la vida, de dónde vinieron y que siempre se debe estar agradecido por eso. Aporta paz a la vida”.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

En ocasiones, me alegraba inmensamente por haberme enterado sobre el Islam, y en ocasiones deseaba jamás haber oído de su existencia ya que en cuanto supe la verdad era consciente de que sólo me restaba convertirme. Sin embargo,  todavía estaba aferrándome a mi antigua vida, aun habiendo renunciado a la bebida y a las fiestas temía perder a mis amigos occidentales y el prejuicio que enfrentaría en cuanto comenzara a cubrirme la cabeza. Conversé este asunto con Jaled tantas veces y siempre le repetía: “Nunca tendré el valor para llevar el hiyab”. En cada una de esas oportunidades él me respondía diciendo: “Cuando sea la voluntad de Dios, tendrás el valor”.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mi diario íntimo: “Mi problema es que soy una cobarde nata. Temo la reacción de la gente cuando empiece a cubrirme la cabeza. ¿Cómo podría contarle esto a mi madre o a Liz en Australia? ¿Cómo podría ir a Australia o a Irlanda con la cabeza cubierta? No creo que pueda dar la cara, tú sabes. Dios mío, dame fuerzas.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(parte 3 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Cambiar de empleo<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Hubo un congelamiento de contrataciones en mi hospital; no obstante, en junio reanudaron inesperadamente los reclutamientos para las incorporaciones y había dos empleos tras los cuales podía ir. Uno era en el Departamento de Recursos Humanos y el otro en el Departamento de Educación y Capacitación. Podía elegir entre ambos empleos y ambos directores insistieron para que optara por sus departamentos. De elegir el Departamento de Recursos Humanos hubiese estado justo en el medio de la acción, hubiese sabido todo lo que ocurriría en el hospital, y las posibilidades de conseguir un aumento salarial en el futuro eran mayores. Si elegía el Departamento de Educación las posibilidades de que supiesen que era musulmana eran mayores y tendría que empezar a cubrirme la cabeza. Por semanas me preocupé y me inquieté por lo que debía hacer. De repente me era prioritario estar en medio de la acción, saber qué ocurriría en el hospital y estar en una posición sólida y ventajosa; sin embargo, algo me detenía. Finalmente, mi amigo jordano me sugirió que practicara dos Raka adicionales después de mi oración por la noche y que le pidiera a Dios Su orientación. Varios días hice eso pero no parecía dar resultado. Pienso que desde el comienzo supe que correspondía que fuese a Educación, pero dentro de mí se llevaba a cabo una lucha constante, temía que las personas se percataran, temía enfrentarlos y, además, constantemente se paseaban por mi mente insinuaciones de la posición ventajosa que obtendría si fuese a Recursos Humanos. Una noche, mientras leía el Corán, advertí que todas esas cosas, el dinero, el chisme, el poder, no eran significativas para mí. Nunca lo fueron. ¿Por qué de pronto se me volvieron tan atractivas? Se me ocurrió que se trataba de Shaitan<\/em> intentando convencerme, pues si iba a Educación recibiría más apoyo y me integraría mejor a la religión ya que había más musulmanes en ese departamento. Fue como si una nube se hubiese disipado, tomé una determinación y no podía esperar a que llegara el día siguiente para decirle a mi jefe mi decisión. Opté por Educación, por supuesto.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Llevar el hiyab<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

A partir de esto las cosas marcharon rápidamente. Empecé a ir a la mezquita para orar y recibí gran apoyo en el Departamento de Educación. Pronto mi jefe (estrictamente religioso) se enteró de mi conversión y comenzó a presionarme para que cubriese mi cabeza. De modo que tuve que pensar en ello seriamente.   No quería hacerlo por la razón equivocada. Quería hacerlo porque me sintiera preparada, y cuando lo supiese me lo pondría y jamás me lo quitaría nuevamente. Al tiempo, mi jefe se tomó unos días de vacaciones y dejé de sentirme presionada, aunque reflexionaba sobre ello continuamente. Discutí con mi amigo sin parar sobre llevar el hiyab y la razón de ello, aún así no me convencía.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

En un fin de semana en la casa de una amiga en el complejo habitacional, conversé con unas muchachas recién llegadas. Eran muy agradables, sentí que podíamos ser amigas, y entonces pensé: “Bien, personas nuevas llegarán y esto sólo será más y más duro. Tal vez si me vieran con el hiyab desde un principio lo aceptarán y no lo cuestionarán tanto”. Decidí comenzar a llevarlo al día siguiente. Éste es un extracto de mi diario íntimo:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Me parece que me cubriré la cabeza mañana. Una mitad de mí siente que es lo correcto, la otra mitad me grita para que no lo haga. Trato de ignorar esa otra mitad. Es tan difícil saber qué hacer. ¿Y si lo odiara luego del primer día o semana, o me diera cuenta de que cometí un error en relación a todo esto después de una semana o mes? No hay vuelta atrás, no a menos que quiera perder todo el respeto. ¿Cuándo estaré 100 % segura? ¿Alguna vez estaré más segura de lo que estoy ahora? Tengo que aprovechar esta oportunidad, debo creer que si es Dios quien lo desea, entonces lograré atravesar esto.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ahora estoy teniendo un ataque de pánico. ¡Auxilio! ¿Creo realmente en esta religión? ¿De verdad quiero vivir así? ¿Quiero pasar todas las noches y todos los fines de semana a solas?  ¡Socorro!  ¡Auxilio!  ¡Auxilio! ¡Oh Dios! ¿Por qué es tan difícil esto? ¿Por qué soy tan miedosa? 29 años de edad y continúo actuando como un niño de 5 años. Pareciera que no logro centrarme de ninguna manera y  tomar una decisión, ¿cómo es posible que siendo así haya decidido algo en el pasado? Ni siquiera soy muy buena persona, tengo que esforzarme mucho para ser aunque sea medio buena. En este instante quisiera largarme de este país, ir a una discoteca, bailar desenfrenadamente, emborracharme, gritar, aullar y cantar.  ¿Puedo afrontar el resto de mi vida sabiendo que no podré tomar, no podré tener un novio y no podré salir de mi casa sin cubrirme la cabeza? Si Kate (una amiga) estuviera aquí ahora mismo la llamaría por teléfono y le pediría que me preparara un margarita. ¡Pero no está! Los demonios deben de estar trabajando tiempo extra conmigo ahora. Y las personas piensan que soy una persona sensata a quien conocieron. Te doy risa, ¿no es cierto?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Estoy decidida a hacerlo. Debo  hacerlo. Por lo menos, si fuera el caso, podría entrar en razón y percatarme de que soy una tonta, –inshallah (Dios mediante) – estoy tomando la decisión correcta y tomaré el camino acertado”.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

No cerré los ojos esa noche. Hasta el último instante no pensé que tendría el valor para hacerlo. Pero, justo antes de pasar por la puerta, me lo puse. Jamás miré atrás.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Fue como si todas las dudas hubiesen desaparecido. Era como si Shaitan<\/em> me hubiese largado. Me sentía orgullosa, parecía caminar a diez pies encima del suelo. Quería que todos supieran que era musulmana. Estaba orgullosa de ser musulmana. Sabía que había tomado la decisión acertada y que jamás lo lamentaría.  Subhan Allah [glorificado sea Dios], Él me lo facilitó.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(parte 4 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Reversión<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Dos semanas después fui al centro de Dawa. Estaba muy asustada y temía decir algo inapropiado. Mi amigo Jaled y su esposa me llevaron, fue muy emotivo. Al final todos terminamos con lágrimas en nuestros ojos. Lloré todo el camino de regreso a casa.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Actualización<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

No obstante, no todo estaba en su sitio como debería. Al modificar mi estilo de vida me hice completamente adicta a la televisión. Toda mi vida giraba en torno a la oración y por las noches a la tele. No estaba satisfecha con ello pero era demasiado perezosa para hacer algo al respecto. Trataba de leer mis libros islámicos pero sentía que no podía asimilar más. Al tiempo, me llegaron rumores que circulaban acerca de mí en el hospital. Realmente me afligió que sucediera ya que odiaba que mi vida fuese motivo de curiosidad de los demás y odiaba llevar a cuestas calumnias y rumores. Una noche retorné a casa del trabajo y sentí que no podía resistirlo más. Despreciaba llegar y mirar la tele toda la noche sin ver ni conversar con alguien, y los fines de semana se habían convertido en una pesadilla. Podía pasar el fin de semana entero a solas. Me sentía perdida y desolada. Cuando llegó el momento de la oración del Isha de esa noche, sencillamente no tenía ganas de realizarla. Nunca antes me había sucedido y eso me abatió, lloré sin parar por dos horas.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Al día siguiente, mis ojos estaban muy hinchados y todo el día transcurrió mientras lloraba, me detenía y volvía a llorar. Jaled me preguntaba qué sucedía constantemente, sólo que al comienzo estaba tan avergonzada que no me atrevía a contarle. De todas formas, realicé la oración ya que sabía que tenía que hacerla. Al final, le conté y él me tranquilizó, dijo que en ocasiones incluso él se sentía así, de modo que no me angustiara ni me disgustara por eso. Lo que necesitaba era cambiar mi estilo de vida, jugar al tenis, salir de compras, leer un libro… Yo insistía en que nada de eso ayudaría, aún así me sentiría sola si no estuviese acompañada o no tuviese a alguien con quien hablar.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Esa noche regresé a casa y sentí que lo estaba perdiendo, sentí que no podría continuar. Después de mi oración me postré y supliqué fervientemente: “Por favor Dios, no permitas que te pierda, no permitas que te pierda”. Me senté y busqué las estrofas breves al final del Corán, donde encontré a At-Takazur; después de leerla, percibí que debía dejar todo a lo que me había aferrado, como la tele y la preocupación por lo que pensaran de mí. Tenía que aprender a dejarlo ir. Sentí cómo me libraba de todas mis preocupaciones, como si brotaran a través de mi espalda y partieran flotando.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

El día siguiente, en el Fayr, cuando terminé mi oración, tuve el presentimiento de que debía colocar mis manos frente a mí mientras recitaba mi Du´a. Había visto que las personas hacían eso, aunque nunca comprendí por qué. Tendí mis manos y le rogué a Dios que me ayudara a dejar todas esas cosas y a esforzarme por ser una mejor persona. Acto seguido, llevé mis manos hacia mi rostro y percibí un hormigueo y un sentimiento de paz y bienestar perpetuo. No quería moverme por miedo a que se desvaneciera, pero permaneció.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ese día en mi trabajo, en el Departamento de Computación, recibí la visita de un hombre llamado Anwer. Jamás lo había visto antes, pero él había oído hablar de mí. Me habló sobre la mezquita de Rayhi, y de que allí se llevaban a cabo lecturas en inglés los viernes. Decidí que iría el viernes siguiente. Esa semana no miré la tele, jugué al tenis y luego le pedí a uno de nuestros choferes en quien confiaba que me llevara a la mezquita.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

El viernes por la mañana me puse muy nerviosa y a último momento sentí que no tenía que ir. ¿Y si me equivocaba de mezquita, y si hacía todo mal? Justo mientras atravesaba la puerta de la casa le rogué a Dios que me guiara y permitiese que todo transcurriera bien. De hecho, todo transcurrió tranquilamente. Conocí a los Samires, una familia de Sri Lanka que vivía y trabajaba en Arabia Saudita, mi nueva familia. Me alojaron y me trataron como a una de los suyos. Que Dios los bendiga y los recompense, Le agradezco todos los días por escogerlos y permitirme conocerlos.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>","excerpt":"","terms":null,"visibility_roles":"","comment_status":1,"comment_count":0,"read_counter":9359,"lft":3072,"rght":3073,"promote":1,"sticky":0,"status":1,"publish_start":null,"publish_end":null,"created_at":"2014-08-29T00:23:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2026-04-06T10:28:40.000000Z","language_id":12,"user_id":7,"author_id":2303,"publisher_id":0,"category_id":10,"parent_id":1647,"author_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","category_name":"Why I became a Muslim!","category_slug":"Why-I-became-a-Muslim!","get_date":"2014-08-29","pdf_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","word_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx"},{"id":1649,"title":"Lynda Fitzgerald, ex-catholique, Irlande","slug":"lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catholique-irlande","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/fr-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/fr-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:lynda-fitzgerald-ex-catholique-irlande","hint":"","body":"

Lynda Fitzgerald, ex-catholique, Irlande<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\"\"<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

(partie 1 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Introduction<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lynda Fitzgerald, qui s’appelle maintenant Khadija, est une Irlandaise native de la ville de Wicklow, près de Dublin.  Elle est issue d’une famille catholique très stricte et elle a huit frères et sœurs.  Son père est électricien et sa mère demeure au foyer.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lynda est allée à l’école à Wicklow avant de s’inscrire au Collège de secrétariat.  Puis elle a travaillé neuf ans à Dublin.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Elle s’est convertie à l’islam après son arrivée en Arabie Saoudite.  Dans cet article, elle raconte les événements qui l’ont amenée dans ce pays et qui lui ont fait découvrir la bonne voie.  Que Dieu la bénisse.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ce qui m’a amenée en Arabie Saoudite<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Je faisais partie d’un club jeunesse.  Nous nous réunissions chaque lundi, puis terminions la soirée au pub.  Je ne suivais pas souvent les autres au pub, mais j’y allais parfois.  Un soir, une nouvelle fille se joignit à nous, au club, et je décidai de suivre le groupe au pub, par la suite, afin de mieux la connaître et de faire en sorte qu’elle se sente à l’aise parmi nous.  Il s’avéra qu’elle travaillait pour une agence qui recrutait des gens désirant aller travailler en Arabie Saoudite.  Elle m’expliqua comment cela fonctionnait et moi, je l’écoutais, fascinée.  Avant cette soirée, je n’avais presque jamais entendu parler de ce pays, mais plus elle parlait, plus mon intérêt s’éveillait, et au moment de quitter le pub, je souhaitais déjà aller travailler en Arabie.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Je postulai donc pour un emploi, mais je ne l’obtins pas (c’était en 1993).  Puis, je finis par oublier tout cela.  Je retournai chez moi pour Noël, où je m’ennuyai ferme, et l’envie me prit de faire de nouvelles choses et de transformer ma vie.  Toutes mes amies étaient en couple ou mariées, et elles avaient toutes emprunté des voies différentes.  Tout à coup, je ne me sentais plus attachée à rien ni à personne.  Lorsque je revins en ville, après Noël, je téléphonai à cette fille qui travaillait pour l’agence de recrutement et lui demandai de me proposer pour n’importe quel poste en Arabie Saoudite.  Elle me dit : « Tu ne me croira pas : je viens tout juste de recevoir un fax de l’Hôpital des forces de sécurité qui demande une secrétaire. »  Dès le 15 mars (1994), mon avion atterrissait en Arabie Saoudite.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mes premières impressions sur l’islam<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lorsque vous arrivez en Arabie Saoudite, la première chose que viennent vous dire les autres Occidentaux qui y sont déjà installés est que les musulmans sont vraiment terribles, qu’ils maltraitent leurs femmes, qu’ils partent pour prier pendant des heures et qu’ils se rendent régulièrement à Bahreïn pour boire et fréquenter des prostituées.  Alors vous adoptez cette opinion dès le départ... et vous croyez que c’est ça, l’islam.  Mais ce n’est pas l’islam.  Et malheureusement, la plupart des Occidentaux ne comprennent pas cela.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Comment j’en suis venue à modifier mon point de vue<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Dès le départ, ma curiosité l’emporta.  Je voyais des gens prier et je trouvais extraordinaire qu’une personne ait une foi si grande qu’elle adore Dieu à chaque instant.  Je trouvais parfois des dépliants sur l’islam et je les prenais dans l’intention de les lire, mais mes ami(e)s occidentaux me disaient « pourquoi veux-tu lire cela?  Ils ne cherchent qu’à t’endoctriner » et alors, gênée, je les laissais tomber et ne les lisais pas.  Puis, un jour, je décidai de prendre un cours d’arabe et le professeur, un Égyptien, me fit une bonne impression.  Il était très différent de la plupart des musulmans que j’avais rencontrés jusque-là.  Sa foi était grande.  Je devins plus familière avec lui, car je vivais des problèmes avec un musulman, au travail, et j’avais besoin d’en parler à quelqu’un.  Ce problème me troublait beaucoup et j’en jetais le blâme sur l’islam.  Mais il m’écouta patiemment, il m’expliqua certaines choses et m’aida à comprendre que le problème n’était pas l’islam et que tous les musulmans ne se comportaient pas comme mon collègue de travail.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Une autre chose que vous diront les Occidentaux est que tout ce que veulent les musulmans, c’est vous convertir à leur religion, et qu’ils vous laveront le cerveau à la première occasion.  Alors évidemment, vous êtes immédiatement sur vos gardes dès que l’un d’entre eux mentionne quoi que ce soit sur l’islam, et vous érigez tout de suite une barrière entre eux et vous, afin de ne pas avoir à écouter ce qu’ils essaient de vous dire.  Mon professeur d’arabe, Khaled, ne me parlait jamais d’islam avant que je n’aie moi-même abordé le sujet ou à moins que j’aie tenu des propos erronés à ce sujet.  Il m’arrivait aussi, parfois, de l’attaquer injustement sur un sujet qui n’avait pourtant rien à voir avec l’islam.  Mais il demeurait toujours calme et patient et il était clair que tout ce qu’il souhaitait, c’était me faire connaître la vérité; il souhaitait me faire comprendre que j’étais injuste dans mes affirmations et que j’avais manifestement été mal informée.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Puis, arriva le mois de Ramadan.  Plusieurs des Saoudiens qui travaillaient avec nous se plaignaient : « l’odeur de votre nourriture vient jusqu’à nous; vous ne devriez pas manger dans vos bureaux, ayez donc un peu de respect pour nous ».  Je ne comprenais pas pourquoi je ne pouvais même pas avoir un verre d’eau sur mon bureau; après tout, ils étaient censés faire ce sacrifice pour Dieu, alors mon verre d’eau n’était pas censé les déranger.  Voici un extrait de mon journal intime qui illustre assez bien mes sentiments, lors des premiers jours de Ramadan :<\/span><\/p>\r\n

« C’est Ramadan.  Mon Dieu, quel mois!  C’est si agaçant.  On ne peut même pas prononcer le mot « nourriture ».  Ils sont tous là, à aller et venir tels de grands martyrs, et la plupart d’entre eux travaillent à peine.  Ils n’ont que six heures par jour à faire, alors ils passent toute la nuit éveillés à manger et ils ont le culot de nous faire sentir comme de véritables païens durant le jour. »<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mon ami Khaled tenta de m’expliquer tout cela.  Il me parla des prières du Ramadan, en fin de soirée (tarawih<\/em>), des efforts déployés par les musulmans pour faire le plus de bonnes actions possible, donner en charité, et éviter d’utiliser un mauvais langage, de se plaindre ou de médire des autres.  Il me dit que certains Occidentaux essayaient de jeûner, eux aussi, pour savoir comment se sentent les musulmans durant cette période, et que certains finissaient par y prendre goût au point où ils jeûnaient maintenant chaque année.  Alors un matin, je me levai et je décidai d’essayer de jeûner, moi aussi.  Je n’en fis part à personne, pas même à Khaled, même s’il finit par s’en rendre compte par la suite.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Un jour, j’allai le voir et il me dit qu’il avait de la lecture pour moi.  Il ouvrit une copie du Coran pour me montrer un passage sur Jésus (que la paix soit sur lui).  Lorsqu’il mit le livre entre mes mains, c’était comme s’il déposait sur elles une précieuse pièce de cristal.  Je ne voulais pas lui redonner le livre et je me sentais ridicule, craignant qu’il se moque de moi si je lui décrivais mon sentiment.  Mais je finis par le lui redonner.  Cet épisode me tourmenta des jours durant, jusqu’à ce qu’il me pose clairement la question : « mais pourquoi ne lis-tu pas le Coran? ».  Je me sentis alors soulagée d’un grand poids; j’amenai le Coran chez moi, ce soir-là, et je commençai à le lire.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (partie 2 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Le Coran<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Deux choses se produisirent, en moi, lorsque je lus le Coran pour la première fois.  Lors de ma lecture de la deuxième sourate, al-Baqarah (verset 21), je m’arrêtai soudain de lire.  Je fermai les yeux, je pensai à Dieu, et tout à coup, je compris Son unicité, et je ressentis Sa supériorité.  Je compris pourquoi Il n’a aucunement besoin d’associés, et je compris que nul ne peut se trouver à Ses côtés, à Son niveau; Il n’a besoin de personne.  J’en étais maintenant convaincue.  Je sentis une grande paix au fond de moi, accompagnée de la certitude qu’il n’y a pas d’autre dieu qu’Allah.  J’aurais voulu que ce sentiment dure pour toujours, mais il me quitta après quelques minutes.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

La seconde chose qui se produisit en moi fut lors de ma lecture du verset 5 de la sourate al-Hajj.  Je fermai à nouveau les yeux et je vis le monde dans son état primitif.  Je vis un monticule de terre, puis une graine germant, grandissant et prenant la forme d’un arbre, et je me dis : « d’où est venue cette graine?  D’où proviennent toutes les merveilleuses variétés de plantes que l’on trouve à travers le monde?  Elles ne peuvent provenir que de Dieu. »  Encore une fois, je ressentis une grande paix et je pris conscience de la grandeur de Dieu.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Les mois précédant ma conversion<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Ces mois furent à la fois les plus beaux et les plus difficiles de ma vie.  À certains moments, j’étais en pleine euphorie tandis qu’à d’autres, j’étais totalement désespérée.  Voici un extrait de mon journal intime, au mois d’avril de cette année-là :<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 « Quelque chose d’étrange m’arrive et je ne sais trop qu’en penser, si c’est une bonne chose ou une mauvaise chose, si mon imagination me joue des tours ou si je suis simplement entrain de subir un lavage de cerveau.  Mais encore là, ce pourrait être pour le mieux et peut-être que cela fait tout simplement partie de mon destin.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

« J’ai étudié l’islam et je pense sérieusement à me convertir...  Que Dieu me vienne en aide.  En ce moment, je ne sais trop que penser; tout cela m’effraie beaucoup, au fond.  Je n’aurais jamais cru qu’une telle chose puisse m’arriver.  Je n’ai jamais vraiment voulu me convertir à une autre religion; je me suis toujours considérée comme catholique, j’ai toujours cru en Dieu et j’ai toujours cru que Jésus était le fils de Dieu.  Aujourd’hui, je remets tout cela en question, je remets en question toutes les croyances qui m’ont été inculquées et en fait, tout mon mode de vie. »<\/span><\/p>\r\n

À cette époque, je pensais à l’islam dès mon réveil et j’y pensais encore au moment où je rentrais chez moi, le soir.  Puis, vint un moment où chaque fois que j’entendais le adhan [appel à la prière], je ressentais un besoin pressant de prier et, dans les premiers temps, je priais à la façon chrétienne, qui était la seule que j’avais apprise.  Quelque temps après, je demandai à un collègue de travail de m’apporter un livre sur la façon de prier, en islam.  Après l’avoir lu, avoir regardé des gens prier à la télévision et posé de nombreuses questions, je me mis à prier.  Personne n’était au courant à part deux de mes collègues de travail, un Égyptien et un Jordanien.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Au début, je priais sans couvrir mes cheveux, car j’ignorais que c’était une obligation.  Et lorsque quelqu’un finit par me le faire remarquer, j’eus de la difficulté à comprendre pourquoi.  J’eus une longue discussion animée avec Khaled à ce sujet, suite à laquelle je n’arrivais toujours pas à comprendre.  Puis, en revenant chez moi, ce soir-là, alors que je marchais en direction de l’arrêt d’autobus, je me mis à penser à la grandeur de Dieu et à quel point j’étais insignifiante par rapport à Lui; je me sentis aussi petite qu’une fourmi voyant le monde entier étendu devant elle. Je compris alors que je devais couvrir mes cheveux lors de mes prières, car Il pouvait me voir en tout temps, et je n’avais aucun droit de me montrer arrogante en refusant de me plier à Ses commandements.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Extrait de mon journal daté du 23 avril 1995<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

« Je me sens toujours aussi confuse.  À certains moments, tout me semble très clair et je me dis « oui, j’y crois et j’ai envie de le crier sur les toits ».  Mais à d’autres moments, le doute et la crainte m’envahissent et je ne sais plus où j’en suis.  C’est très difficile.  Il s’agit pourtant d’une très belle religion.  Le Coran est très beau et contient tout ce dont nous avons besoin, nous êtres humains, pour guider nos vies : les règles du comportement et de la prière, les choses permises et les interdictions, entre autres.  On ne trouve rien de tout cela dans le catholicisme, sans compter qu’à périodes régulières, ils modifient les règles afin de les rendre conformes à leurs désirs.  Si vous suivez l’islam tel qu’il a été prescrit, vous ne pouvez être mauvais envers qui que ce soit.  Vous ne pouvez être que bon, patient et tolérant et vous ne pouvez jamais oublier Dieu, car vous L’adorez au moins cinq fois quotidiennement.  J’aime prier, depuis toujours.  Prier m’aide à me rappeler toutes les bonnes choses que Dieu m’a accordées et à en être éternellement reconnaissante.  Cela m’apporte une paix dans ma vie quotidienne. »<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Parfois, j’étais vraiment heureuse d’avoir découvert l’islam, mais à d’autres moments, je souhaitais n’en avoir jamais entendu parler, car maintenant que je savais que c’était la vérité, je savais également que je n’avais d’autre choix que de me convertir.  Même si j’avais cessé de boire et de participer aux fêtes de toutes sortes, je m’accrochais encore à mon ancienne vie; je craignais de perdre tous mes amis occidentaux et d’affronter leurs préjugés une fois que j’aurais commencé à me couvrir les cheveux.  J’en parlai plusieurs fois à Khaled et je lui répétai chaque fois que jamais je ne trouverais le courage de porter le hijab; et chaque fois, sa réponse fut : « quand Dieu le voudra, tu trouveras le courage ».<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Dans mon journal intime, j’écrivais également : « Le problème, c’est que je suis une trouillarde-née.  Je suis paralysée en pensant à la réaction des gens que je connais, lorsqu’ils me verront pour la première fois avec un hijab.  Comment annoncer cette nouvelle à ma mère ou à Liz, en Australie?  Comment aller en Australie, ou même en Irlande, la tête couverte d’un hijab?  Je me sens incapable de faire face à cela.  Que Dieu m’en donne la force. »<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (partie 3 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Changer d’emploi<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Au travail, deux postes se libérèrent en juin, l’un aux ressources humaines et l’autre dans le département de l’éducation et de la formation.  J’avais le choix entre les deux et les directeurs des deux départements m’invitaient à postuler pour leurs postes respectifs.  Aux ressources humaines, je me serais retrouvée au cœur de l’action et au courant de la plupart des choses qui se passaient dans l’hôpital, en plus de jouir possiblement d’une hausse de salaire dans le futur.  Tandis qu’à l’éducation, j’aurais été plus exposée et je n’aurais pu cacher aux gens ma conversion à l’islam, me sentant par le fait même forcée d’agir en fonction de cette évidence et de commencer à porter le hijab.  Je jonglai avec ces pensées des semaines durant.  Puis je décidai que je préférais me retrouver au cœur de l’action et occuper un poste influent, mais en même temps, quelque chose me retenait.  <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Finalement, une amie me conseilla de prier deux rakat [unités de prière] supplémentaires après ma dernière prière du soir et de demander à Dieu de me guider [ce qu’on appelle la prière de consultation, ou istikhara].  C’est ce que je fis durant plusieurs jours, mais sans résultat.  Je crois que je savais, au fond, qu’il était préférable que je choisisse le département d’éducation, mais j’avais de la difficulté à prendre une décision, j’avais peur de faire face à l’opinion des autres et j’étais assaillie de pensées à l’effet que j’allais me retrouver dans une position influente si je choisissais les ressources humaines.  Puis, un soir, alors que je lisais le Coran, je me mis à penser que toutes ces choses, i.e. l’argent, le pouvoir et l’opinion d’autrui, n’avaient aucune signification à mes yeux et n’en avaient jamais réellement eu.  Je me demandai pourquoi j’y avais accordé tant d’importance au cours des semaines précédentes et je compris que le diable m’avait suggéré tout cela.  En effet, celui-ci savait que si je choisissais le département d’éducation, j’y trouverais plus de soutien car plus de musulmans y travaillaient et ma spiritualité s’en trouverait enrichie.  Je sentis que le nuage qui m’enveloppait se dissipait tout à coup et je pris enfin ma décision, c’est-à-dire celle d’aller au département d’éducation.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Porter le hijab<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Après, tout se précipita.  Je me mis à fréquenter la mosquée aux heures de prières et je reçus un soutien inespéré des membres du département d’éducation.  Puis, mon (très religieux) patron entendit parler de ma conversion et m’encouragea fortement à porter le hijab.  J’y réfléchis donc sérieusement, car je ne voulais pas le faire pour les mauvaises raisons.  Je voulais le faire au moment où j’allais me sentir prête et déterminée.  Puis, mon patron partit en vacances, ce qui enleva un peu de pression de mes épaules, même si je continuais d’y penser à chaque instant.  J’avais de fréquentes discussions avec mes amis à ce sujet et je n’étais toujours pas convaincue que le port du hijab était obligatoire.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Un week-end, j’étais chez une amie, dans l’enceinte où nous logions, et j’y rencontrai de nouvelles filles qui venaient d’arriver.  Elles étaient gentilles et je crus un instant pouvoir devenir amies avec elles; mais je me ravisai, pensant en  moi-même : « Bon, de nouvelles personnes arrivent et ce sera de plus en plus difficile d’en parler ouvertement et de m’affirmer.  Si elles me voient avec le hijab dès le départ, elles s’y feront et ne me poseront pas tellement de questions. »  Alors je pris la décision de commencer à le porter dès le lendemain.  Voici un extrait de mon journal intime :<\/span><\/p>\r\n

« Je crois que je commencerai à me couvrir les cheveux dès demain.  Une partie de moi crois que c’est le bon moment, tandis que l’autre me crie de n’en rien faire.  J’essaie d’ignorer cette dernière.  C’est si difficile... Qu’arrivera-t-il si, dès le lendemain ou la semaine suivante, je n’ai plus envie de le porter?  Ou si je réalise, une semaine ou un mois plus tard, que j’ai commis une erreur?  Je sais qu’une fois que j’aurai commencé, je ne pourrai plus revenir en arrière, à moins de vouloir perdre le respect de tous.  Quand serai-je sûre à 100%?  Quand serai-je encore plus sûre que je ne le suis en ce moment?  Je dois prendre ce risque, je dois croire que si c’est ce que Dieu souhaite, alors j’arriverai à passer au travers.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

« Voilà que je traverse une crise d’angoisse.  À l’aide!  Est-ce que je crois vraiment en cette religion?  Ai-je vraiment envie d’adopter ce mode de vie?  Ai-je envie de passer toutes mes soirées et tous mes week-ends seule?  À l’aide!  Au secours!  Ô mon Dieu, pourquoi est-ce si difficile?  Pourquoi suis-je ainsi?  À l’âge de 29 ans, je me comporte encore comme une fillette de 5 ans.  Comment suis-je arrivée à prendre des décisions, par la passé, alors que je n’arrive même pas à en prendre une dans ce cas-ci?  Je ne me considère même pas comme une « bonne » personne; je dois faire de réels efforts pour arriver à être bonne ne serait-ce qu’à moitié...  En ce moment, ce que je voudrais faire, c’est sortir de ce pays et rentrer chez moi, aller dans une discothèque, danser follement, me saouler, hurler, crier et chanter.  Puis-je vraiment envisager passer le reste de mes jours sans boire, sans avoir d’amoureux, et contrainte à me couvrir la tête chaque fois que je dois sortir?  Si Kate était ici, en ce moment, je crois que je l’appellerais et lui demanderais de me préparer un margarita.  Mais elle n’est pas ici!  Je crois que le diable fait des heures supplémentaires chez moi, en ce moment.  Dire que les gens croient que je suis une personne raisonnable...  S’ils savaient! <\/span><\/p>\r\n

« Bon, bon... ça y est, j’ai pris ma décision.  Je dois le faire.  Au pire, je reviendrai à la raison et réaliserai à quel point je suis ridicule.  Au mieux, je réaliserai que j’ai pris la bonne décision et que je suis sur la bonne voie – incha’Allah (si Dieu le veut). »<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Cette nuit-là, je n’arrivai pas à fermer l’œil un seul instant.  Jusqu’à la dernière minute, je me disais que je n’aurais pas le courage de le faire.  Mais tout juste avant de sortir, je couvris mes cheveux d’un hijab.  Depuis, je ne suis jamais revenue sur ma décision.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Je sentis que tous mes doutes s’étaient dissipés, que le diable avait lâché prise sur moi.  J’étais fière et je marchais la tête haute.  Je voulais que tous sachent que j’étais musulmane.  Je savais que j’avais pris la bonne décision et que jamais je ne la regretterais.  Soubhanallah, Dieu m’a grandement facilité les choses.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (partie 4 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

La conversion<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Deux semaines plus tard, je me rendis au Da’wah Center [centre d’information sur l’islam].  J’étais terrifiée et j’avais peur de dire quelque chose de déplacé.  Khaled et son épouse m’y conduisirent; ce fut un moment très émotif.  En sortant du centre, nous avions tous les larmes aux yeux.  Je pleurai tout au long sur le chemin du retour.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Par la suite...<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Je sentais toutefois que quelque chose n’allait pas.  Étrangement, en changeant de mode de vie, j’étais devenue totalement accro à la télévision.  Toute ma vie était axée sur mes prières et sur la télévision en soirée.  Je n’étais pas heureuse de ce changement, mais je me sentais trop lasse pour y remédier.  J’essayais de lire des livres sur l’islam, mais je me sentais saturée d’informations.  Puis, à l’hôpital où je travaillais, des rumeurs commencèrent à circuler à mon sujet et vinrent à mes oreilles.  Cela me mit vraiment en colère, car je détestais voir ma vie personnelle devenir le centre d’intérêt de mes collègues.  Un soir, en rentrant du travail, je sentis que je ne pouvais continuer ainsi; je détestais rentrer et passer la soirée assise devant la télé; je ne pouvais plus supporter de n’avoir personne à qui parler ni à visiter, et mes week-ends étaient devenus de véritables cauchemars.  Je me sentais seule et perdue.  Ce soir-là, lorsque vint l’heure de la prière du ‘Isha, je ne ressentis aucune envie de la faire.  Cela ne m’était jamais arrivé auparavant, et je passai deux longues heures à pleurer tout mon soûl.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Le jour suivant, j’avais les yeux affreusement gonflés et durant la journée, j’éclatai en sanglots à tout moment.  Khaled me demanda plusieurs fois ce que j’avais, mais je n’arrivais pas à lui répondre; je me sentais terriblement honteuse, même si j’avais fini par faire la prière du ‘Isha, la veille, car je savais que je devais la faire.  Je finis par tout lui avouer et il me rassura en me disant que même lui, parfois, traversait des périodes similaires, et que je ne devais pas avoir une mauvaise opinion de moi-même à cause de cela.  Ce dont j’avais besoin, c’était de changer mes habitudes; il me suggéra de faire du sport, jouer au tennis, aller faire les magasins, lire un bon livre...  Je lui dis que cela ne m’aiderait en rien car je me sentais très seule et ce dont j’avais besoin, c’était de gens à qui parler.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ce soir-là, en rentrant chez moi, je sentis que j’allais perdre la tête.  Je ne pouvais plus continuer ainsi.  Après ma prière, je me prosternai et je priai, de tout mon cœur, demandant à Dieu : « Ô Dieu, je t’en prie, ne me laisse pas Te perdre, ne me laisse pas Te perdre... ».  Je m’assis et jetai un coup d’œil sur les versets inscrits sur la couverture arrière du Coran; j’y vis al-Taakathour et après l’avoir lu, je compris que je devais laisser tomber toutes ces choses auxquelles j’étais attachée, comme la télévision, et toutes ces choses auxquelles j’accordais trop d’importance, comme l’opinion que se font les autres de moi.  Je devais apprendre à me détacher de ces choses.  Je sentis tous mes soucis me quitter, comme s’ils quittaient mon corps et mon esprit un à un.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Le jour suivant, après la prière du Fajr, je décidai de faire mes du’a de la même façon que j’avais vu les autres faire, c’est-à-dire en tournant mes paumes vers le ciel.  Je priai Dieu de m’aider à me détacher des choses insignifiantes et de faire de moi une meilleure personne.  Je sentis une paix et un bien-être tels descendre en moi que je bougeai le moins possible de crainte qu’ils me quittent. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ce jour-là, au travail, je reçus la visite d’un collègue du département informatique : Anwar.  Je ne l’avais jamais rencontré, mais il avait entendu parler de moi.  Il me parla de la mosquée Rajhi et me dit qu’on y donnait des cours en anglais le vendredi.  Je décidai donc d’y aller dès le vendredi suivant.  Cette semaine-là, je n’allumai même pas la télé, je jouai au tennis et je demandai à l’un de nos chauffeurs, auquel je faisait confiance, de me conduire à cette mosquée.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Le vendredi matin, je me sentais très nerveuse et à la dernière minute, j’hésitai à m’y rendre.  Et si on se perdait et que je me rendais à la mauvaise mosquée?  Et si je faisais tout de travers?  Mais comme j’allais enfin sortir de chez moi, je priai Dieu de me guider et de m’accorder l’issue la plus favorable.  Et Il répondit à ma prière.  Je fis la rencontre des Samir, une famille sri-lankaise venue vivre et travailler en Arabie Saoudite.  Ce fut comme une nouvelle famille, pour moi; ils m’invitèrent chez eux et me traitèrent comme l’une de leurs.  Que Dieu les bénisse et les rétribue.  Je Le remercie chaque jour de les avoir choisis pour moi et de les avoir mis sur ma route.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

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Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Katholikin, Irland<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\"\"<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

<\/h1>\r\n

(teil 1 von 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

Einleitung<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lynda Fitzgerald, jetzt als Khadija bekannt, ist ein irisches Mädchen aus einer Stadt namens Wicklow, in der Nähe von Dublin.  Sie stammt von einer streng römisch-katholischen Familie, die aus neun Kindern bestand.  Ihr Vater ist Elektriker und ihre Mutter Hausfrau.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lynda wurde in Wicklow ausgebildet und ging dann zum Sekretariats - College.  Sie hat neun Jahre in Dublin gearbeitet.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Khadija, wie sie jetzt genannt wird, konvertierte zum Islam, nachdem sie nach Saudi Arabien gekommen war.  Sie berichtet in diesem Artikel über die Ereignisse, die sie in dieses Heilige Land gebracht haben und die sie auf den richtigen Weg geführt haben. Möge Gott sie segnen.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Wie ich nach Saudi Arabien gekommen bin<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Ich war in einem Klub für junge Leute.  Wir haben uns jeden Montag getroffen und sind dann zum Pub gegangen.  Manchmal ging ich mit, doch meistens ging ich nach dem Treffen nach Hause.  Eines Abends hatte ein neues Mädchen im Klub angefangen, und ich beschloss, zum Pub mitzugehen und mit ihr zu reden, damit sie sich Willkommen fühlt.  Es stellte sich heraus, dass sie für eine Agentur arbeitete, die für Saudi Arabien anwarb.  Sie begann, mir davon zu erzählen.  Ich war fasziniert.  Ich hatte vorher nur wenig von Saudi Arabien gehört.  Als die Nacht verging, wurde ich immer interessierter und zu der Zeit, als ich den Pub verließ, wollte ich wirklich nach Saudia. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ich bewarb mich um einen Job in jenem Jahr, 1993, aber ich bekam keinen.  Also dachte ich nicht weiter daran.  Ich ging Weihnachten nach Hause und war sehr gelangweilt, da entschloss ich mich, dass ich mit meinem Leben etwas anderes anfangen müsse.  Alle meine Freundinnen hatten Freunde oder waren verheiratet und hatten sich anderen Dingen zugewandt.  Ich fand mich plötzlich ohne Bindungen.  Als ich nach Weihnachten in die Stadt zurückkehrte, rief ich dieses Mädchen von der Agentur an und bat sie, mir irgendeinen Job in Saudi Arabien zu geben, der reinkam.  Sie sagte: „Du wirst es nicht glauben.  Ich habe eben gerade ein Fax vom Security Forces Hospital erhalten, die suchen eine Sekretärin.“  Am 15.März 1994 war ich hier.  <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Meine ersten Eindrücke vom Islam<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Wenn du nach Saudi Arabien kommst, ist das erste, das dir die Westler erzählen, wie furchtbar die Muslime sind, wie schlecht sie ihre Frauen behandeln, wie sie alle hinaus gehen zum beten und stundenlang nicht zurück kommen, wie sie alle nach Bahrain reisen, um zu trinken und sich Frauen zu nehmen.  Du bist gleich von Anfang an voreingenommen … und du denkst, das ist Islam.  Unglücklicherweise versäumen viele Westler, dies zu sehen. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Wie ich diese Ansicht änderte<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Was mich betrifft, ich war von Anfang an neugierig.  Ich sah, wie die Menschen in der Moschee beteten, und ich dachte, es wäre großartig einen so starken Glauben zu haben, um Gott so viel anzubeten.  Ich sah Broschüren herum liegen und nahm sie in die Hand, um sie zu lesen.  Doch meine westlichen Freunde sagten: „Wieso willst du das lesen, sie versuchen nur, dich einer Gehirnwäsche zu unterziehen“, da war ich verlegen und hörte damit auf.  Bald fing ich an, Arabisch-Unterricht zu nehmen und der Arabisch-Lehrer, ein Ägypter, beeindruckte mich wirklich sehr.  Er war so anders als viele Muslime, die ich getroffen hatte.  Sein Glaube war stark.  Ich war freundschaftlich mit ihm, denn wir hatten auf der Arbeit Probleme mit einem muslimischen Jungen und ich brauchte jemanden, mit dem ich darüber reden konnte.  Ich war verärgert und machte den Islam für alles verantwortlich, aber er war wirklich geduldig und erklärte mir die Dinge und half mir, zu erkennen, dass es nicht der Islam war und dass nicht alle Muslime sich derart benehmen. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Eine andere Sache, die dir Westler erzählen, ist, dass alle Muslime versuchen, dich zu konvertieren, und sie werden versuchen, eine Gehirnwäsche bei dir vorzunehmen.  Also wirst du natürlich sehr misstrauisch, wenn irgendjemand versucht, mit dir über den Islam zu reden, baust du eine Mauer zwischen dir und ihnen auf, und du wirst ihnen nicht zuhören, egal was sie dir erzählen.  Was Khaled betrifft, er sprach nie über den Islam, außer wenn ich das Thema als Erste ansprach oder wenn ich den Islam unrichtigerweise für etwas verantwortlich machte und gelegentlich griff ich ihn ungerechterweise an für etwas, das überhaupt nichts mit dem Islam zu tun hatte.  Er blieb immer ruhig und war sehr geduldig, und es war sehr deutlich, dass er nur wollte, dass ich die Wahrheit erfahre, er wollte nur, dass ich erkenne, dass ich ungerecht und schlecht informiert war. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Dann war Ramadhan.  Viele saudische Jungs jammerten auf der Arbeit „wir können Essen riechen, ihr solltet nicht im Büro essen, ihr solltet uns mehr Respekt entgegen bringen“.  Ich konnte nicht verstehen, warum ich an meinem Schreibtisch nicht ein Glas Wasser haben sollte, nachdem sie angeblich Gott ein Opfer erbringen sollten, sollte ihnen das Glas Wasser auf meinem Schreibtisch nichts ausmachen.  Der folgende Auszug aus meinem Tagebuch zeigt, wie ich mich beim Beginn des Ramadhan fühlte:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Es ist Ramadhan.  Meine Güte, was für ein Monat.  Es ist so lästig.  Du kannst noch nicht mal das Wort Essen erwähnen.  Sie gehen alle wie mega-Märtyrer durch die Gegend und die meisten von ihnen arbeiten nicht einmal.   Sie hatten nur sechs Stunden am Tag, also blieben sie die ganze Nacht auf und aßen und ließen uns anderen uns tagsüber wie komplette Heiden fühlen.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mein Freund Khaled versuchte, mir einiges zu erklären.  Er sprach über Gebete spät in der Nacht und bemühte sich, besonders gut zu sein und keine schlechte Sprache zu benutzen oder [sich zu beschweren] oder schlecht über andere zu reden und dass man mehr Almosen geben soll.  Er sagte, dass manche Westler versuchten, auch zu fasten, um zu sehen, wie das ist, und einige von ihnen mochten es so sehr, dass sie es in jedem Jahr taten.  Eines Morgens stand ich auf und entschloss mich, dass ich fasten würde.  Und so tat ich es.  Ich erzählte keinem davon, nicht einmal Khaled, erstmal, aber dann hat er es durch Zufall selbst heraus gefunden. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

An einem Tag ging ich, um ihn zu sehen, und er sagte, er habe etwas, von dem er wollte, dass ich es lese.  Er brachte ein Qur´an-Exemplar, um mir eine Passage über Jesus (Friede sei mit ihm) zu zeigen und als er es in meine Hände legte, war es so, als legte er ein wertvolles Stück Kristall hinein.  Ich fühlte Ehrfurcht.  Ich wollte ihn nicht zurück geben, aber ich fühlte mich dumm und hatte Angst, er würde lachen, wenn ich ihm sagen würde, wie ich mich fühlte.    Also gab ich ihn zurück, aber es brannte noch tagelang in mir drinnen, bis er Schließlich selbst zu mir sagte: “Warum liest du nicht den Qur´an?“ und es war, als würde ein Gewicht von meinen Schulter gehoben, und ich brachte ihn nach Hause und begann noch in dieser Nacht zu lesen.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(teil 2 von 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Der Qur´an<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Zwei Dinge geschahen mir, während ich den Qur´an las.  Erstens: ich las die folgende Sure (Sure II (Al Baqara - 21), und ich stoppte beim Lesen.  Ich schloss meine Augen und dachte über Gott nach.  Plötzlich überkam mich ein Gefühl von der Einheit Gottes, von der Erhabenheit Gottes.  Ich konnte erkennen, dass Er keinen Grund dafür hatte, einen Partner zu haben.  Ich konnte keinen dort mit Ihm sehen, auf derselben Stufe wie Er, warum sollte Er irgend jemanden brauchen.  Er brauchte keinen, dessen war ich mir sicher.  Ein fremdartiger Frieden kam über mich, und ich fühlte mich wirklich sicher, dass es keinen Gott gab außer Gott.  Ich wünschte mir, das Gefühl würde für immer andauern, aber es ging nach ein paar Minuten. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Das Zweite war, als ich Sure Al Hajj (22-5) las.  Wieder schloss ich meine Augen und hatte ein Bild von der Welt, unfruchtbar und neu geboren.  Ich sah einen Erdhügel und ein Saatkorn, das zu einem Baum heran wuchs und ich dachte: „Woher kam dieser Samen?“  Woher kam alle diese verschiedenen Pflanzen, die du auf der ganzen Welt findest?  Es konnte nur von Gott kommen.  Wieder spürte ich den Frieden, und ich fühlte die Wunder Gottes. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Die Monate bevor ich konvertierte<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Dies waren die schwersten und besten Monate meines Lebens.  Manchmal war ich auf einer Höhe und manchmal fühlte ich mich völlig verzweifelt.  Dies ist ein Auszug aus meinem Tagebuch im April:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Etwas Seltsames geht mit mir vor, und ich weiß einfach nicht, wie ich mich fühlen soll, ob es etwas Gutes ist oder etwas Schlechtes, ob meine Vorstellung mit mir durchgeht oder ob ich einfach einer Gehirnwäsche unterzogen werde.  Dann wieder könnte es richtig sein und das, was sein soll.  <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Die Sache ist die, ich habe den Islam studiert, und ich denke wirklich darüber nach, zu konvertieren – Gott stehe mir bei.  Im Augenblick weiß ich einfach nicht, was ich denken soll, die ganze Angelegenheit schreckt den helllichten Tag aus mir.  Ich hätte nie gedacht, dass mir etwas derartiges geschehen könnte.  Ich wollte sicherlich nicht konvertiert werden.  Ich hatte mich immer als Katholikin betrachtet, ich hatte immer an Gott geglaubt, und ich hatte immer geglaubt, dass Jesus der Sohn Gottes war.  Nun stellte ich all das in Frage, ich stellte alles in Frage, was mir zu glauben beigebracht worden war, und meine gesamte Lebensweise.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ich dachte von der Zeit am Morgen, wenn ich aufstand, bis zum Abend, wenn ich nach Hause kam, an den Islam.  Nach einer Weile überkam mich immer wenn ich den Adhan hörte, ein heftiger Wunsch zu beten, und am Anfang betete ich auf die herkömmliche christliche Art und Weise.  Dann bat ich einen der Jungen auf der Arbeit, um ein Buch darüber, wie man betet und er gab mir eins.  Ich las das Buch, sah die Leute im Fernsehen beten und stellte viele Fragen.  Dann fing ich an zu beten.  Noch immer wusste keiner davon, bis auf die Jungs bei der Arbeit.  Der Ägypter und der Jordanier, der auch ein wirklich guter Muslim ist.  <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Anfangs betete ich, ohne meine Haare zu bedecken.  Ich wusste nicht, dass dies erwartet wurde, und als es mir jemand erzählte, konnte ich mir nicht vorstellen, was der Grund dafür sein könnte.  Ich hatte an einem Tag eine lange Diskussion mit Khaled bei der Arbeit darüber, aber ich konnte es immer noch nicht ergründen.  Dann als ich an dem Abend nach Hause fuhr, ging ich, um den Bus zu erreichen, und ich bekam ein Gefühl für die Erhabenheit Gottes und wie klein und bedeutungslos ich doch bin, verglichen mit Ihm; ich fühlte mich so klein wie eine Ameise mit der ganzen Welt, die vor mir ausgebreitet liegt und ich wusste, dass ich meine Haare bedecken sollte, wenn ich bete, denn Er konnte jede Bewegung sehen, die ich machte, und ich hatte kein Recht dazu, stolz zu sein und ich sollte alles tun, um Ihn zufrieden zu stellen.  Ich habe dann nie wieder daran gezweifelt, dass ich meine Haare beim Beten bedecken sollte.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mein Tagebuch am 23 April 1995<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

“Nun, ich bin mir immer noch nicht sicher, was ich tue.  Manchmal scheint es so klar und deutlich zu sein, und ich denke: “Ja, ich glaube und möchte es hinausschreien.“  Dann zu anderen Zeiten fühle ich mich wirklich unsicher und voller Zweifel und Ängste, und ich weiß einfach nicht, was ich tun soll.  Die Sache ist zwar, abgesehen von allem anderen, es ist eine wirklich gute Religion, der Qur´an ist sehr schön, und alles ist dort, - wie man sich benimmt, wie man betet, was man tun soll und was man nicht tun soll.  Es gibt nichts dergleichen bei der katholischen Kirche, abgesehen von der Tatsache, dass sie sie von Zeit zu Zeit verändern, damit sie ihnen besser zusagt.  Wenn du dieser Religion folgst, kannst du nicht böse sein, zu gar keinem.  Du kannst nur freundlich und geduldig und tolerant sein, und du kannst Gott nie vergessen, denn du betest fünfmal täglich zu Ihm.  Ich liebe es zu beten, ich habe es immer getan.  Es hilft dir dabei, dich an all die guten Dinge zu erinnern, die du im Leben hast und woher sie kommen und daran, dass du dafür immer dankbar sein solltest.  Das gibt deinem Leben Frieden.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Manchmal war ich wirklich froh, dass ich dies alles über den Islam herausgefunden hatte und manchmal wünschte ich, ich hätte nie davon gehört, denn nun wusste ich, dass es die Wahrheit ist, mir wurde klar, dass ich keine andere Wahl hatte, als zu konvertieren, aber ich hing immer noch an meinem alten Leben; auch wenn ich das Alkoholtrinken und zu Partys gehen schon aufgegeben hatte, befürchtete ich, meine westlichen Freunde zu verlieren und die Vorurteile, die mir entgegen gebracht würden, sobald ich anfangen würde, meinen Kopf zu bedecken.  Ich sprach so viele Male mit Khaled darüber, und jedes Mal sagte ich: “Ich würde nie den Mut haben, das Hijab zu tragen,” und er antwortete jedes Mal: “wenn Gott will, wirst du den Mut haben.” <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Mein Tagebuch: Mein Problem ist, ich bin der geborene Feigling.  Mir graut es beim Gedanken an die Reaktion anderer Menschen, wenn ich anfange, meinen Kopf zu bedecken.  Wie könnte ich das je meiner Mutter erzählen oder Liz in Australien.  Wie könnte ich nach Australien gehen oder sogar nach Irland und meinen Kopf bedecken.  Ich denke nicht, dass ich es ertragen kann.  Gott, gib mir Kraft.      <\/span><\/p>\r\n

(teil 3 von 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Meinen Job ändern<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

In meinem Krankenhaus hatte es einen Einstellungsstopp gegeben und dann im Juni öffneten sie plötzlich für Einstellungen und es gab zwei neue Jobs, die für mich in Frage kamen.  Einer war in der Personalabteilung und ein anderer war in der Ausbildungs- und Trainingsabteilung.  Ich hatte die Wahl zwischen beiden Jobs, und beide Direktoren drängten mich wirklich, in ihre Abteilung zu kommen.  Wenn ich zur Personalabteilung ging, wäre ich mitten im Geschehen, ich würde über alles Bescheid wissen, was im Krankenhaus vor sich geht, und ich hätte größere Chancen, in Zukunft eine Gehaltserhöhung zu bekommen.  Wenn ich in die Ausbildungsabteilung ging, wusste ich, dass die Wahrscheinlichkeit größer wäre, dass die Menschen heraus finden würden, dass ich Muslim bin, und dann würde ich anfangen müssen, meinen Kopf zu bedecken.  Wochenlang sorgte und grämte ich mich, was ich tun solle.  Plötzlich war es mir sehr wichtig, inmitten des Geschehens zu sein und zu wissen, was im Krankenhaus geschah und in einer so starken Position zu sein, doch immer noch hielt mich etwas zurück.  Schließlich sagte mir mein jordanischer Freund, ich soll nach dem Gebet am Abend zwei Rakas zusätzlich beten und Gott um Rechtleitung bitten.  Dies tat ich tagelang und es schien einfach nichts zu bringen.  Ich denke, ich wusste, dass ich zur Ausbildungsabteilung gehen musste, aber in mir gab es einen konstanten Kampf; ich hatte Angst, dass die Leute es heraus fanden, ich hatte Angst, ihnen gegenüberzu treten, und Gedanken über die mächtige Stellung in der Personalabteilung krochen in meinen Kopf.  Dann eines Abends las ich im Qur´an, und es fiel mir auf, dass mir alle diese Dinge nichts bedeuteten: Geld, Gerede, Macht.  Sie hatten es nie getan.  Warum also schienen sie mir jetzt so attraktiv, und ich dachte, das ist Schaitan, der versucht, mich davon zu überzeugen, denn er weiß, wenn ich in die Ausbildungsabteilung gehe, dann würde ich mehr Unterstützung haben, denn in dieser Abteilung waren mehr Muslime, und ich würde mehr in die Religion involviert werden.  Und es kam mir vor, als hätte sich eine Wolke gelüftet, ich fasste meinen Entschluss und ich konnte kaum den nächsten Tag erwarten, damit ich meinem Boss die Entscheidung mitteilen könnte.  Natürlich ging ich zur Ausbildungsabteilung. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Das Hijab tragen<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Hierauf entwickelten sich die Dinge ziemlich schnell.  Ich fing an, zur Moschee zu gehen und zu beten, und ich erhielt eine Menge Unterstützung in der Ausbildungsabteilung.  Dann fand es mein Boss (der streng religiös ist), heraus und fing damit an, Druck auf mich auszuüben, meinen Kopf zu bedecken.  Da musste ich ernsthaft drüber nachdenken.  Ich wollte es nicht aus dem falschen Grund tun.  Ich wollte es tun, weil ich dazu bereit bin, und wenn ich das weiss, dann setze ich es auf und werde es nie wieder absetzen.  Dann als mein Boss Urlaub hatte, war der Druck weg, doch ich dachte immer noch die ganze Zeit darüber nach.  Ich hatte immer Streitgespräche mit meinem Freund darüber und den Grund dafür, und ich war noch immer nicht überzeugt.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

An einem Wochenende war ich im Hause eines Freundes, ein paar neue Mädchen waren angekommen, und ich sprach mit ihnen.  Sie waren wirklich nett und ich fühlte, wir könnten Freunde werden, doch dann dachte ich, ´ok, neue Leute kommen und es wird nur immer schwerer und schwerer´.  Möglicherweise wenn sie mich von Anfang an mit Hijab gesehen hätten, dann würden sie es akzeptieren und nicht so sehr hinterfragen. Ich entschloss mich, am nächsten Tag damit zu beginnen, es zu tragen.  Hier ist ein Auszug aus meinem Tagebuch: <\/span><\/p>\r\n

“So, ich denke, ich werde morgen meinen Kopf bedecken.  Eine Hälfte von mir fühlt, dass es die richtige Zeit ist, die andere Hälfte schreit mich an, es nicht zu tun.  Ich versuche, diese Hälfte zu ignorieren.  Es ist einfach nur so schwer, zu wissen, was man tun muss.  Was ist, wenn ich nach einem Tag oder nach einer Woche anfange, es zu hassen; oder wenn ich mir nach einer Woche oder nach einem Monat gewahr werde, dass ich einen Fehler gemacht habe?  Es gibt kein zurück, wenn ich nicht jeglichen Respekt verlieren möchte.  Wann werde ich jemals 100% sicher sein, wann werde ich jemals sicherer sein als jetzt.  Ich muss diese Gelegenheit ergreifen; ich muss fest daran glauben, wenn Gott es will, dann werde ich es schaffen.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Jetzt habe ich eine Panikattacke.  Hilfe!  Glaube ich tatsächlich an diese Religion?  Möchte ich wirklich mein Leben lang so leben?  Möchte ich wirklich jede Nacht und jedes Wochenende allein verbringen?  Hilfe!  Hilfe!  Hilfe!  O Gott, warum ist es so schwer?  Warum bin ich so ein Feigling?  29 Jahre bin ich alt und handle wie eine Fünfjährige.  Wie habe ich in der Vergangenheit Entscheidungen getroffen, wenn ich es jetzt überhaupt nicht zusammenzukriegen scheine?  Ich bin noch nicht einmal eine wirklich gute Person, ich muss hart arbeiten, um auch nur einigermaßen gut zu sein.  Gerade jetzt, würde ich gern dieses Land verlassen, in eine Disko gehen, wild tanzen, mich betrinken, schreien, rufen und singen.  Kann ich mir den Rest meines Lebens vorstellen und wissen, ich darf nicht trinken, ich kann keinen Freund haben, und ich kann nicht ohne Kopfbedeckung nach draußen gehen.  Wenn Kate hier wäre, würde ich sie anrufen und sie bitten, mir eine Margerita zu machen. Aber sie ist nicht hier!  Ich denke, die Teufel machen gerade Überstunden bei mir.  Und die Leute denken, ich wäre eine sensible Person, weißt du.  Das ist doch zum Lachen, oder?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ich bin fest entschlossen, ich werde es tun.  Wenigstens, wenn nichts anderes, werde ich zu Sinnen kommen und feststellen, was für eine Dumme ich bin, allenfalls werde ich zu der Erkenntnis kommen, dass ich die richtige Entscheidung getroffen habe und dass ich auf dem richtigen Weg bin - inschaAllah [wenn Gott will].”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Ich habe in jener Nacht kein Auge zugemacht.  Bis zur letzten Minute dachte ich, ich würde nicht den Mut aufbringen, es zu tun.  Aber gerade bevor ich zur Tür hinaus ging, setzte ich es auf.  Ich habe nie zurück geblickt.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Es war, als wären alle Zweifel dahin gegangen.  Es war, als hätte Schaitan mich verlassen.  Ich fühlte mich stolz.  Ich fühlte mich, als ginge ich zehn Fuß hoch.  Ich wollte, dass jeder weiß, dass ich Muslim bin.  Ich war stolz darauf, Muslima zu sein.  Ich wusste, dass ich die richtige Entscheidung getroffen hatte und dass ich sie niemals bereuen werde.  Subhan Allah [Gepriesen sei Gott], Er hat es mir leicht gemacht.  <\/span><\/p>\r\n

(teil 4 von 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Konvertieren<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Zwei Wochen später ging ich zum Dawa-Zentrum.  Ich fürchtete mich wirklich, und ich hatte Angst, etwas Falsches zu sagen.  Mein Freund Khaled und seine Frau brachten mich, und es war sehr emotional.  Zum Schluss hatten alle von uns Tränen in den Augen, und ich weinte auf dem ganzen Weg nach Hause im Auto. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Up to Date<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Noch immer war nicht alles so, wie es sein sollte.  Bei der Veränderung meiner Lebensweise war ich ein völliger TV Anhängiger geworden.  Mein ganzes Leben kreiste nun um Gebet und TV am Abend.  Darüber war ich nicht glücklich, aber ich war zu faul, um etwas zu verändern.  Ich versuchte, meine islamischen Bücher zu lesen, aber ich fühlte, dass ich einfach nicht mehr konnte.  Dann machten Gerüchte im Krankenhaus über mich die Runde und kamen wieder bei mir an.  Das regte mich wirklich auf, denn ich hasste es, Gegenstand der Neugier eines jeden zu sein, und ich hasste es, die Wucht von übler Nachrede und Gerüchte zu sein.  Ich kam eines Abends von der Arbeit nach Hause zurück, und fühlte, dass ich einfach nicht mehr konnte.  Ich hasste es, hereinzukommen und die ganze Nacht TV zu sehen und mit keinem zu sprechen und die Wochenenden waren reine Alpträume für mich.  Ich würde das ganze Wochenende keinen sehen.  Ich fühlte mich verlassen und allein.  Die Zeit für das Ischagebet kam, und ich wollte es nicht verrichten.  Dies war mir noch nie passiert, und es bestürzte mich. Ich weinte zwei Stunden ununterbrochen.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Am nächsten Tag waren meine Augen richtig geschwollen, und ich weinte den ganzen Tag immer wieder.  Khaled fragte mich, was los sei, und zuerst konnte ich es ihm nicht sagen, weil ich mich so schämte, obwohl ich das Gebet verrichtet hatte, denn ich wusste, ich musste es tun.  Schließlich erzählte ich es ihm, und er versicherte mir, sogar er fühlte sich manchmal so, und ich sollte mich deshalb nicht schlecht fühlen oder besorgt sein.  Was mir fehlte, sei eine Veränderung in meiner Lebensweise, Tennis spielen, Einkaufen gehen, ein Buch zu lesen.  Ich argumentierte, das würde nicht helfen, ich bräuchte jemanden zum Reden, ich wäre immer noch einsam.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

An diesem Abend ging ich nach Hause und fühlte mich wirklich verloren, ich fühlte, ich könne einfach nicht so weiter machen.  Nach meinem Gebet warf ich mich nieder und betete wirklich : “Bitte Gott, lass mich dich nicht verlieren, bitte lass mich dich nicht verlieren.“  Ich setzte mich hin und wandte mich den kurzen Versen am Ende des Qur´an zu, und ich fand At-Takathur, und nachdem ich sie gelesen hatte, wurde mir klar, dass ich alle diese Dinge aufgeben musste, an denen ich hing, wie TV und mir Gedanken über die Menschen zu machen und was sie über mich denken.  Ich musste lernen, diese Dinge aufzugeben.  Und ich fühlte, wie alle diese Sorgen mich verließen, als würden sie aus meinem Rücken heraus kommen und davon schweben. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Am nächsten Tag beim Fagr als ich mein Gebet beendet hatte, hatte ich das Gefühl, ich sollte meine Hände vor mir erheben und Dua machen.  Ich hatte andere Menschen es so machen gesehen, aber nie verstanden, wozu es gut war.  Ich streckte meine Hände und betete zu Gott, mir dabei zu helfen, und dabei, eine bessere Person zu werden.  Dann legte ich meine Hände auf mein Gesicht und spürte ein Kribbeln und ein Wohlbefinden und Frieden, das lange anhielt.  Ich fürchtete, es würde weggehen, wenn ich mich bewege.  Aber das tat es nicht.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

An jenem Tag hatte ich bei der Arbeit einen Besuch von einem Mitarbeiter aus der Computerabteilung – Anwer.  Ich hatte ihn noch nie zuvor getroffen, aber er hatte von mir gehört.  Er erzählte mir von der Rajhi -Moschee und dass es dort freitags Vorträge auf englisch gäbe.  Ich beschloss, dass ich am nächsten Freitag dorthin gehen wollte.  In dieser Woche sah ich kein TV, und ich spielte Tennis und dann fragte ich einen unserer Fahrer, dem ich vertraute, ob er mich zu der Moschee bringen konnte. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

Freitagmorgen wurde ich sehr nervös und in letzter Minute fühlte ich, dass ich nicht gehen wollte.  Was ist, wenn ich zur falschen Moschee gehe, was ist, wenn ich alles falsch machte?  Genau als ich zur Tür hinaus ging, betete ich zu Gott, mich zu leiten und alles gut ausgehen zu lassen.  Und es ging alles gut aus.  Ich traf die Sameers, eine ausgebürgerte Familie aus Sri Lanka, die in Saudi Arabien lebte und arbeitete, meine neue Familie, und sie nahmen mich mit zu sich nach Hause und behandelten mich wie eine von ihnen.  Möge Gott sie segnen und belohnen, und ich danke Ihm jeden Tag dafür, dass Er sie gewählt hat und mich sie treffen lassen hat. <\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

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Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Católica, Irlanda<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\"\"<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

(parte 1 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

Introdução<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Lynda Fitzgerald, agora conhecida como Khadija, era uma garota irlandesa de uma cidade chamada Wicklow, próxima a Dublin.  Vem de uma família católica romana muito estrita, composta de nove filhos.  Seu pai é um eletricista e a mãe é dona de casa.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Lynda foi educada em Wicklow e então foi para a universidade.  Trabalhou em Dublin por nove anos.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Khadija, como é agora chamada, reverteu ao Islã depois de ter vindo para a Arábia Saudita.  Ela relata, nesse artigo, a sequência de eventos que a trouxeram a essa Terra Sagrada e a introduziram ao caminho certo.  Que Deus a abençoe.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Como Vim para a Arábia Saudita<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Estava em um clube para jovens.  Encontrávamo-nos toda segunda e então íamos para o pub depois.  Às vezes eu ia, mas na maioria das vezes ia para casa depois dos encontros.  Uma noite uma garota nova começou a frequentar o clube e decidi ir ao pub conversar com ela e fazer com que se sentisse bem vinda.  Fiquei sabendo que ela trabalhava para uma agência de empregos que recrutava para a Arábia Saudita.  Ela começou a me falar sobre isso.  Eu estava fascinada.  Tinha ouvido falar muito pouco da Arábia Saudita até então.  Ao longo da noite fui ficando cada vez mais interessada e, quando deixei o pub, realmente queria ir para a Arábia Saudita.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Candidatei-me para um emprego naquele ano, 1993, mas não o consegui.  Então não pensei mais nisso por um tempo.  Fui para casa no Natal e estava muito entediada. Decidi que tinha que fazer algo diferente com minha vida.  Todas as minhas amigas tinham namorado ou estavam casadas, envolvidas com coisas diferentes.  Repentinamente me encontrei sem laços.  Quando voltei para a cidade depois do Natal, liguei para a garota da agência de empregos e pedi a ela que me escalasse para qualquer emprego que aparecesse na Arábia Saudita.  Ela disse: “Você não vai acreditar. Acabei de receber um fax do Hospital das Forças de Segurança pedindo uma secretária”.  Cheguei aqui em 15 de março de 1994.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Minhas Primeiras Impressões do Islã<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Quando você vem para a Arábia Saudita a primeira coisa que os outros ocidentais dirão é como os muçulmanos são terríveis, como tratam mal suas mulheres, como todos saem para orar e não voltam por horas, como todos vão para Bahrain para beber e pegar mulheres.  Você tem preconceitos desde o início... e pensa que isso é Islã.  Mas não é Islã.  Infelizmente a maioria dos ocidentais não percebe.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Como Mudei Aquela Visão<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Quanto a mim, estava curiosa desde o início.  Via pessoas orando na mesquita e pensei que era ótimo ter uma fé forte para adorar tanto a Deus.  Via panfletos e os pegava para ler, mas então meus amigos ocidentais diziam: “Para que você quer ler isso? Estão apenas fazendo lavagem cerebral em você”. Ficava embaraçada e parava de ler.  Então comecei a ter aulas de árabe a o professor de árabe, um egípcio, realmente me impressionou.  Era muito diferente de muitos muçulmanos que tinha encontrado.  Sua fé era muito forte.  Fiquei amiga dele porque estava tendo problemas com um muçulmano no trabalho e precisava de alguém para conversar sobre o assunto.  Ficava aborrecida e culpava o Islã, mas ele era paciente e explicava as coisas para mim, me ajudando a ver que não era o Islã e que nem todos os muçulmanos se comportavam assim.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Outra coisa que os ocidentais dirão é que todos os muçulmanos querem reverter você, e que lhe farão lavagem cerebral com esse fim.  Então, claro, você fica muito alerta se alguém tenta falar sobre o Islã, coloca uma barreira e não ouve nada do que dizem.  Khaled nunca falava sobre Islã a menos que eu tocasse no assunto primeiro ou incorretamente culpasse o Islã por algo; às vezes eu praticamente o atacava injustamente por algo que não tinha nada a ver com o Islã.  Ele sempre se mantinha calmo e era muito paciente. Estava muito claro que só queria que eu conhecesse a verdade, queria que eu visse que estava sendo injusta e mal informada.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Então chegou o Ramadã.  Muitos rapazes sauditas no trabalho estavam reclamando e dizendo: “podemos sentir cheiro de comida, vocês não deviam comer em seus escritórios, deviam ter mais respeito por nós.” Não podia entender por que eu não devia ter um copo de água em minha mesa. Afinal de contas, eles deviam fazer um sacrifício para Deus e não deviam se importar se eu tinha um copo de água em minha mesa.  A seguir, o extrato de meu diário mostra como me senti no início do Ramadã:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“É Ramadã. Meu Deus, que mês. É tão aborrecido. Não se pode nem mencionar a palavra comida. Estão se comportando como mega mártires e a maioria deles nem está trabalhando. Só têm que trabalhar seis horas por dia e, assim, ficam acordados a noite inteira comendo e fazendo o resto de nós nos sentir como pagãos durante o dia.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Meu amigo, Khaled, tentou explicar para mim.  Explicou sobre orar tarde da noite e tentar ao máximo ser bom e não usar linguagem vulgar ou [reclamar] ou caluniar e como tem que dar mais em caridade.  Disse que alguns ocidentais tentaram jejuar para ver como era e alguns gostaram tanto que jejuavam todo ano.  Uma manhã acordei e decidi: vou jejuar.  Assim o fiz.  Não disse a ninguém, nem mesmo a Khaled, a princípio, mas no fim ele percebeu.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Um dia fui vê-lo e ele disse que queria que eu lesse algo.  Trouxe uma cópia do Alcorão para me mostrar uma passagem sobre Jesus (que a paz esteja sobre ele), e quando a colocou em minhas mãos era como se tivesse me dado uma peça preciosa de cristal.  Senti um misto de respeito e admiração.  Não queria devolvê-lo, mas me senti estúpida e temia que ele risse se dissesse como me sentia.  Então devolvi, mas isso me corroeu por dias até que finalmente ele mesmo me disse: “Por que você não lê o Alcorão?”. Foi como se um peso fosse tirado de meus ombros. Levei-o para casa e comecei a lê-lo naquela noite.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (parte 2 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

O Alcorão<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Duas coisas aconteceram comigo enquanto lia o Alcorão.  Primeiro, estava lendo a Surata 2 – Al Báqara – 21 e parei de ler.  Fechei meus olhos e pensei sobre Deus.  De repente tive uma sensação da unicidade de Deus, da superioridade de Deus.  Podia ver que Ele não tinha razão para ter um parceiro.  Não podia enxergar ninguém lá com Ele no mesmo nível, porque não haveria ninguém.  Estava certa disso.  Uma paz estranha tomou conta de mim e me senti realmente segura de que não havia Deus a não ser Deus.   Só queria que aquele sentimento durasse para sempre, foi se foi em poucos minutos.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

O segundo foi quando li a surata Al Hajj (22-5).  Novamente fechei meus olhos e retratei o mundo, estéril e recém-nascido.  Vi um monte de terra e uma semente se transformando em árvore e pensei: “De onde veio aquela semente?” De onde vieram todas as belas variedades de plantas que se encontra no mundo todo?  Só podiam ter vindo de Deus.  Novamente senti paz e senti a maravilha de Deus.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Os Meses Antes da Reversão<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Esses tinham que ser os meses mais difíceis da minha vida.  Às vezes estava feliz e às vezes me sentia em profundo desespero.  Esse é um extrato do meu diário em abril:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Algo estranho está acontecendo comigo e não sei como me sentir a respeito, se é uma coisa boa ou ruim, se minha imaginação está muito fértil ou se estou permitindo que me façam lavagem cerebral. Mas pode ser o que é certo e o que deve acontecer.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

O ponto é que tenho estudado o Islã e estou realmente pensando em me reverter – que Deus me ajude.  No momento não sei o que pensar porque a coisa toda me assusta muito.  Nunca pensei que uma coisa dessas pudesse acontecer comigo.  Com certeza não queria me reverter.  Sempre me considerei católica, sempre acreditei em Deus e sempre acreditei que Jesus era o filho de Deus.  “Agora estou questionando tudo isso, questionando o que cresci acreditando e todo o meu estilo de vida.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Penso sobre Islã da hora que acordo até a hora que vou para casa, à noite.  Depois de um tempo, quando ouvia o adhan, sentia um desejo muito forte de orar, e no começo orava da antiga maneira cristã.  Então perguntei a um dos rapazes no trabalho sobre um livro ensinando como orar, e ele me deu um.  Li aquele livro, assisti as pessoas orando na TV e fiz muitas perguntas.  Então comecei a orar.  Apesar disso, ninguém sabe a respeito exceto dois rapazes no trabalho.  O egípcio e outro jordaniano que também é um bom muçulmano.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

No começo orava sem cobrir meu cabelo.  Não sabia que devia fazê-lo e quando alguém finalmente me contou, não pude entender o porquê.  Tive uma longa discussão sobre isso com Khaled um dia no trabalho e ainda não consegui entender.  Então, quando ia para casa naquela noite, estava caminhando para pegar o ônibus e senti uma sensação de superioridade de Deus e do quanto eu era pequena e insignificante comparada a Ele. Senti-me tão pequena quanto uma formiga com o mundo inteiro diante de mim e soube que devia cobrir minha cabeça quando orava. Ele podia ver todo movimento que eu fazia e eu não tinha direito de ser orgulhosa. Devia fazer tudo para agradá-Lo.  Nunca mais duvidei de que devia cobrir minha cabeça enquanto orava.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Meu diário 23 de abril de 1995<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

“Bem, ainda não estou certa do que estou fazendo. Às vezes parece tão claro e penso: “Sim, acredito e quero gritar bem alto.  Outras vezes me sinto realmente insegura, com dúvidas e medo, e não sei o que estou fazendo.  É difícil.  Além de qualquer outra coisa, realmente é uma boa religião.  O Alcorão é muito belo e está tudo lá – como se comportar, como orar, o que fazer, o que não fazer.  Não existe nada disso na igreja católica, além do fato de que a mudam de tempos em tempos para que se adeque.  Se segue essa religião não pode ser mau, para ninguém.  Só pode ser gentil e paciente e tolerante e não pode nunca esquecer Deus, porque O está adorando cinco vezes ao dia.   Amo orar, sempre amei.  Ajuda a lembrar de todas as coisas boas que tem na vida, de onde elas vieram e que deve ser grato por elas sempre.  Traz paz para sua vida.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Às vezes, estou realmente feliz de ter aprendido sobre o Islã e outras gostaria de nunca ter ouvido falar dele, porque agora sei a verdade e percebi que não tenho escolha a não ser reverter. Mas continuo presa à minha antiga vida; mesmo que deixasse de beber e ir a festas, temo perder meus amigos ocidentais e o preconceito que terei que enfrentar quando começar a cobrir minha cabeça.  Falei sobre isso com Khaled muitas vezes. Todas as vezes eu disse: \"Nunca terei coragem de usar o hijab\" e cada vez ele respondeu: “Quando Deus quiser, você terá a coragem.”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Meu diário: Meu problema é que nasci covarde.  Temo a reação das pessoas quando começar a cobrir minha cabeça.  Como poderia dizer a minha mãe ou Liz na Austrália?  Como poderia ir para a Austrália ou mesmo Irlanda e cobrir minha cabeça – não acho que conseguirei enfrentar isso.  Deus, dê-me forças.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

(parte 3 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Mudança de Emprego<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Houve uma parada no recrutamento em meu hospital e então em junho repentinamente abriu o recrutamento, e havia dois empregos que eu podia tentar.  Um era no Departamento Pessoal e outro era no Departamento de Educação e Treinamento.  Podia escolher entre ambos e ambos os diretores estavam realmente pressionando para que ficasse em seus departamentos.  Se eu fosse para o Departamento Pessoal estaria bem no centro de tudo, saberia tudo que estava acontecendo no hospital e teria melhor chance de obter um aumento de salário no futuro.  Se fosse para Educação, sabia que havia mais chance das pessoas descobrirem que eu era muçulmana, e teria que começar a cobrir minha cabeça.  Por semanas me preocupei e inquietei sobre o que fazer.  Repentinamente se tornou muito importante para mim estar no centro de tudo, saber o que estava acontecendo no hospital e estar nessa forte posição, mas ainda assim alguma coisa me impedia.  Finalmente meu amigo jordaniano me disse para fazer dois rakats extras depois de minha oração da noite e pedir orientação a Deus.  Fiz isso por dias e não parecia estar funcionando.  Acho que sabia que tinha que ir para Educação, mas havia uma batalha constante dentro de mim e temia que as pessoas descobrissem. Temia ter que enfrentá-las e os pensamentos tomavam conta de minha mente sobre a posição poderosa na qual estaria se fosse para o Departamento Pessoal.  Então, uma noite estava lendo o Alcorão e me ocorreu que todas aquelas coisas não significavam nada para mim: dinheiro, fofoca, poder.  Nunca tinham significado.  Então por que de repente se tornaram tão atrativas? Pensei que era Satanás tentando me convencer, porque ele sabe que se eu fosse para Educação teria mais apoio, porque existiam mais muçulmanos no departamento, e eu estaria mais envolvida na religião.  Foi como se uma nuvem tivesse passado, e me decidi. Não pude esperar pelo dia seguinte para informar a meu chefe sobre minha decisão.  Claro, fui para Educação.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Usando o Hijab<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Depois disso as coisas andaram rapidamente.  Comecei a ir à mesquita orar e tive muito apoio no departamento de Educação.  Então meu chefe que é (estritamente religioso) descobriu e começou a me pressionar para cobrir minha cabeça.  Tinha que pensar seriamente a respeito.  Não queria fazê-lo pelo motivo errado.  Queria fazê-lo porque estava pronta e quando soubesse que poderia colocá-lo e nunca mais tirá-lo.  Então meu chefe saiu de férias e senti que a pressão acabou, mas continuava a pensar sobre o assunto o tempo todo.  Tinha debates constantes com meu amigo sobre usá-lo e a razão, mas não estava convencida.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Um final de semana estava na casa de amigos em um complexo e meninas novas tinham chegado. Comecei a conversar com elas.  Eram todas muito legais e senti que podíamos ser amigas, mas então pensei: “Ok, pessoas novas estão chegando e as coisas só vão ficar cada vez mais difíceis. Talvez, se me vissem com o hijab desde o início, aceitassem sem muito questionamento.” Decidi começar a usá-lo no dia seguinte.  Aqui está um trecho de meu diário:<\/span><\/p>\r\n

“Acho que vou começar a cobrir minha cabeça amanhã. Metade de mim sente que é o momento certo e a outra está implorando para que eu não o faça. Estou tentando ignorar essa metade. É tão difícil saber o que fazer. E se o odiar depois de um dia, ou uma semana; ou perceber que cometi um erro depois de uma semana ou um mês? Não há volta, a menos que eu queira perder todo o respeito. Quando me sentirei 100% certa? Quando me sentirei mais certa do que isso? Tenho que arriscar. Tenho que acreditar que se é o que Deus quer, passarei bem por isso.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Estou tendo um ataque de pânico agora.  Socorro!  Realmente acredito nessa religião?  Realmente quero viver minha vida assim?  Quero passar todas as noites e finais de semana sozinha?  Socorro!  Socorro!  Socorro!  Ó Deus, por que é tão difícil?  Por que sou tão covarde?  29 anos e continuo agindo como uma criança de 5.  Como tomei decisões no passado se parece que não posso dar conta dessas?  Não sou uma boa pessoa. Tenho que dar muito duro para ser pelo menos metade boa.  Nesse momento gostaria de sair desse país, ir a uma discoteca, dançar muito, me embebedar, gritar e cantar.  Posso passar o resto de minha vida sabendo que não posso beber, ter um namorado, e não posso sair sem cobrir minha cabeça?  Se Kate estivesse aqui agora, acho que a telefonaria e pediria para me preparar uma marguerita.  Mas ela não está!  Acho que os demônios estão fazendo hora extra comigo agora.  E as pessoas acham que sou sensível.  É de fazer rir, não é?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Estou determinada a fazê-lo.  Tenho que fazê-lo.  No pior caso, cairei em mim e perceberei que tola eu sou. Na melhor hipótese perceberei que fiz a escolha certa e estou no caminho certo – insh’Allah [se Deus quiser].”<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Não dormi nada à noite.  Até o último minuto não achei que teria coragem.  Mas pouco antes de sair o coloquei.  Não olhei para trás.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Era como se todas as dúvidas tivessem se dissipado.  Era como se Satanás tivesse me deixado.  Senti-me orgulhosa.  Senti-me como se tivesse mais de 2 metros de altura.  Queria que todos soubessem que era muçulmana.  Estava orgulhosa de ser muçulmana.  Sabia que tinha feito a escolha certa e nunca me arrependeria.  Subhan’Allah [Que Deus seja glorificado]. Ele tornou tudo muito fácil para mim.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 (parte 4 de 4)<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

Reversão<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Duas semanas depois fui para o centro de divulgação.  Estava realmente com medo e temia dizer algo errado.  Meu amigo Khaled e sua esposa me levaram e foi muito emocionante.  No fim, todos tínhamos lágrimas nos olhos.  Chorei o tempo todo no carro, na volta para casa.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Atualização<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

Ainda assim, nem tudo era como deveria ser.  Ao mudar meu estilo de vida, tinha me tornado uma viciada em TV. Toda a minha vida agora revolvia em torno de oração e TV à noite.  Não estava feliz, mas era preguiçosa demais para fazer algo a respeito.  Tentava ler meus livros islâmicos, mas me sentia como se não aguentasse mais.  Então rumores a meu respeito começaram a circular no hospital e começaram a voltar para mim.  Isso realmente me irritou, porque odiava que minha vida fosse o centro da curiosidade de todos e odiava ser foco de calúnias e rumores.  Fui para casa uma noite e me senti como se não pudesse aguentar mais.  Odiava chegar e assistir TV toda a noite e não ver e não conversar com ninguém. Os finais de semana tinham se tornado um pesadelo.  Às vezes não via ninguém o final de semana todo.  Sentia-me perdida e sozinha.  Chegou a hora da oração da noite e não queria orar.  Nunca tinha acontecido antes comigo e me irritou.  Chorei muito por duas horas.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

No dia seguinte meus olhos estavam inchados e passei o dia chorando.  Khaled ficava me perguntando o que estava errado e a princípio não contei a ele, porque me sentia envergonhada, mesmo tendo feito a oração porque sabia que tinha que fazê-la.  Finalmente contei e ele me assegurou que se sentia assim de vez em quando e que eu não devia me sentir mal ou irritada por causa disso.  Que eu precisava mudar meu estilo de vida, jogar tênis, fazer compras, ler um livro.  Eu continuava argumentando que não ajudaria porque continuava precisando conversar com pessoas e que ainda me sentiria sozinha.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Naquela noite fui para casa e senti que estava recuando. Senti que não podia prosseguir.  Depois de minha oração me prostrei e orei fervorosamente: “Por favor, Deus, não permite que me afaste de Ti, não permita que me afaste de Ti.”Sentei e me voltei para os versículos curtos na parte de trás do Alcorão e encontrei Al-Taakathur, e depois de lê-los percebi que tinha que abrir mão de todas essas coisas as quais continuava ligada, como a TV e a preocupação com as pessoas e o que elas pensavam sobre mim.  Tinha que aprender a me desvincular. E senti como se todas as minhas preocupações tivessem saído dos meus ombros.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

No dia seguinte na oração da alvorada, quando terminei minha oração, tive uma sensação para colocar minhas mãos na minha frente enquanto suplicava.  Tinha visto pessoas fazendo isso, mas nunca entendi para quê servia.  Estendi minhas mãos e orei a Deus para me ajudar a desvincular e tentar ser uma pessoa melhor.  Então coloquei as mãos sobre meu rosto e senti uma sensação de formigamento e de bem-estar e paz. Temia me mover e a sensação se desvanecer.  Mas isso não aconteceu.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Aquele dia no trabalho recebi uma visita de um rapaz do departamento de informática, Anwer.  Nunca o tinha encontrado antes, mas ele tinha ouvido falar de mim.  Ele me disse sobre a mesquita Rajhi e que havia aulas em inglês em uma sexta-feira.  Decidi que iria aquela sexta.  Naquela semana não assisti TV, joguei tênis e pedi a um dos nossos motoristas de limusine em quem confiava que me levasse à mesquita.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Sexta de manhã, estava muito nervosa e no último minuto senti que não queria ir.  E se fosse para a mesquita errada? E se algo saísse errado?  Quando saía pela porta orei a Deus para me guiar e permitir que tudo corresse bem.  E tudo correu bem.  Encontrei os Sameers, uma família expatriada do Sri Lanka, que vivia e trabalha na Arábia Saudita, minha nova família, que me levaram para sua casa e me trataram como se eu fosse parte da família.  Que Deus os abençoe e recompense. Agradeço a Ele todos os dias por escolhê-los e por me permitir encontrá-los.<\/span><\/p>","excerpt":"","terms":null,"visibility_roles":"","comment_status":1,"comment_count":0,"read_counter":9513,"lft":3078,"rght":3079,"promote":1,"sticky":0,"status":1,"publish_start":null,"publish_end":null,"created_at":"2014-08-29T00:23:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2026-04-06T10:28:52.000000Z","language_id":15,"user_id":7,"author_id":2303,"publisher_id":0,"category_id":10,"parent_id":1647,"author_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","category_name":"Why I became a Muslim!","category_slug":"Why-I-became-a-Muslim!","get_date":"2014-08-29","pdf_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/53ff5a77-7188-4be1-94b1-167db8adb1fd-pt-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","word_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/53ff5a77-bd2c-4653-b5ea-167db8adb1fd-pt-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx"},{"id":1652,"title":"\u30ea\u30f3\u30c0\u30fb\u30d5\u30a3\u30c3\u30c4\u30b8\u30a7\u30e9\u30eb\u30c9\u3000\u30a2\u30a4\u30eb\u30e9\u30f3\u30c9\u51fa\u8eab\u306e\u5143\u30ab\u30c8\u30ea\u30c3\u30af\u4fe1\u8005","slug":"-sgrgr","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/ja-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/ja-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:-sgrgr","hint":"","body":"

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\u30a4\u30b9\u30e9\u30fc\u30e0\u306b\u5bfe\u3059\u308b\u7b2c\u4e00\u5370\u8c61<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u300c\u30e9\u30de\u30c0\u30fc\u30f3\u3002\u3042\u3042\u3001\u4f55\u3068\u3044\u3046\u4e00\u30f6\u6708\u306a\u306e\u304b\u3057\u3089\u3002\u672c\u5f53\u306b\u8179\u304c\u305f\u3064\u308f\u3002\u300e\u98df\u3079\u7269\u300f\u3068\u3044\u3046\u8a00\u8449\u3055\u3048\u4f7f\u3063\u3061\u3083\u3044\u3051\u306a\u3044\u306e\u3088\u3002\u5f7c\u3089\u306f\u7686\u3001\u305f\u3044\u305d\u3046\u306a\u6b89\u6559\u8005\u3067\u3042\u308b\u304b\u306e\u3088\u3046\u306b\u632f\u308b\u821e\u3044\u3060\u3059\u3051\u3069\u3001\u4ed5\u4e8b\u3059\u3089\u3057\u3066\u3044\u306a\u3044\u308f\u3002\u4e00\u6669\u4e2d\u98df\u3079\u660e\u304b\u3057\u4e00\u65e5\u306b6\u6642\u9593\u3057\u304b\u50cd\u304b\u306a\u3044\u304f\u305b\u306b\u3001\u79c1\u305f\u3061\u7686\u3092\u5b8c\u5168\u306b\u4e0d\u4fe1\u5fc3\u8005\u6271\u3044\u3059\u308b\u306e\u3088\u3002\u300d<\/span><\/p>\r\n

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 <\/p>\r\n

\uff082\/4\uff09<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\u30af\u30eb\u30a2\u30fc\u30f3<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u6539\u5b97\u524d\u306e\u6570\u30f6\u6708<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u300c\u4f55\u304b\u5909\u306a\u3053\u3068\u304c\u79c1\u306b\u8d77\u304d\u3066\u3044\u3066\u3001\u305d\u308c\u306b\u3064\u3044\u3066\u3069\u3046\u611f\u3058\u308c\u3070\u3044\u3044\u306e\u304b\u5206\u304b\u3089\u306a\u3044\u308f\u3002\u826f\u3044\u306e\u304b\u60aa\u3044\u306e\u304b\u3001\u60f3\u50cf\u529b\u304c\u66b4\u8d70\u3057\u3066\u3044\u308b\u306e\u304b\u3001\u305d\u308c\u3068\u3082\u81ea\u5206\u81ea\u8eab\u3092\u6d17\u8133\u3055\u305b\u3066\u3044\u308b\u306e\u304b\u3002\u3067\u3082\u3001\u305d\u308c\u306f\u6b63\u3057\u3044\u3053\u3068\u3067\u3001\u305d\u3046\u306a\u308b\u904b\u547d\u306a\u306e\u304b\u3082\u77e5\u308c\u306a\u3044\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

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1995\u5e744\u670823\u65e5\u306e\u65e5\u8a18<\/span><\/h3>\r\n

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\u79c1\u306e\u65e5\u8a18\u306b\u306f\u3053\u3046\u3042\u308a\u307e\u3059\u3002\u300c\u79c1\u306e\u554f\u984c\u70b9\u306f\u3001\u79c1\u304c\u751f\u6765\u306e\u81c6\u75c5\u8005\u3060\u3068\u3044\u3046\u3053\u3068\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u9aea\u3092\u8986\u3044\u96a0\u3057\u305f\u3068\u304d\u306e\u4eba\u3005\u306e\u53cd\u5fdc\u304c\u5fc3\u5e95\u6050\u308d\u3057\u3044\u308f\u3002\u3069\u3046\u3059\u308c\u3070\u6bcd\u3055\u3093\u3084\u30aa\u30fc\u30b9\u30c8\u30e9\u30ea\u30a2\u306e\u30ea\u30ba\u306b\u3053\u306e\u3053\u3068\u3092\u8a00\u3048\u308b\u3060\u308d\u3046\u304b\u3002\u3069\u3046\u3059\u308c\u3070\u30aa\u30fc\u30b9\u30c8\u30e9\u30ea\u30a2\u3084\u30a2\u30a4\u30eb\u30e9\u30f3\u30c9\u3067\u9aea\u3092\u8986\u3046\u3053\u3068\u304c\u51fa\u6765\u308b\u3060\u308d\u3046\u304b\u3002\u305d\u3093\u306a\u3053\u3068\u76f4\u9762\u51fa\u6765\u3063\u3053\u306a\u3044\u3002\u795e\u3055\u307e\u3001\u5f37\u3055\u3092\u304f\u3060\u3055\u3044\u3002\u300d<\/span><\/p>\r\n

\uff083\/4\uff09<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\u8ee2\u8077<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u30d2\u30b8\u30e3\u30fc\u30d6\u3092\u7740\u3051\u308b<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u79c1\u306f\u30d1\u30cb\u30c3\u30af\u72b6\u614b\u306b\u306a\u3063\u3066\u3044\u308b\u3002\u52a9\u3051\u3066\uff01\u3000\u79c1\u306f\u672c\u5f53\u306b\u3053\u306e\u5b97\u6559\u3092\u4fe1\u3058\u3066\u3044\u308b\u306e\uff1f\u3000\u79c1\u306f\u672c\u5f53\u306b\u3053\u306e\u3088\u3046\u306a\u4eba\u751f\u3092\u6b69\u307f\u305f\u3044\u306e\uff1f\u3000\u79c1\u306f\u6bce\u6669\u3001\u6bce\u9031\u672b\u3072\u3068\u308a\u307c\u3063\u3061\u3067\u904e\u3054\u3057\u305f\u3044\u306e\uff1f\u3000\u52a9\u3051\u3066\uff01\u795e\u3088\u3001\u306a\u305c\u3053\u3093\u306a\u306b\u56f0\u96e3\u306a\u306e\uff1f\u3000\u3069\u3046\u3057\u3066\u79c1\u306f\u3053\u3093\u306a\u306b\u610f\u6c17\u5730\u306a\u3057\u306a\u306e\uff1f\u300029\u6b73\u306b\u3082\u306a\u3063\u3066\u30015\u6b73\u306e\u3088\u3046\u306b\u632f\u821e\u3063\u3066\u3044\u308b\u79c1\u3002\u4eca\u3053\u3053\u3067\u5168\u304f\u6c7a\u65ad\u3092\u4e0b\u3059\u3053\u3068\u3059\u3089\u307e\u307e\u306a\u3089\u306a\u3044\u306e\u306b\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u904e\u53bb\u306b\u3069\u3046\u3084\u3063\u3066\u8272\u3093\u306a\u3053\u3068\u3092\u6c7a\u65ad\u3057\u305f\u306e\u304b\u3057\u3089\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u5584\u826f\u306a\u4eba\u9593\u3067\u3059\u3089\u306a\u304f\u3001\u826f\u3044\u4eba\u3067\u3042\u308b\u304b\u306e\u3088\u3046\u306b\u632f\u821e\u3046\u3060\u3051\u3067\u672c\u5f53\u306b\u82e6\u52b4\u3059\u308b\u306e\u3088\u3002\u4eca\u3053\u306e\u77ac\u9593\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u3053\u306e\u56fd\u3092\u8131\u51fa\u3057\u3066\u30c7\u30a3\u30b9\u30b3\u306b\u884c\u3063\u3066\u8e0a\u308a\u72c2\u3044\u3001\u304a\u9152\u3092\u98f2\u307f\u3001\u53eb\u3073\u58f0\u3092\u4e0a\u3052\u3064\u3064\u6b4c\u3044\u51fa\u3057\u305f\u3044\u6c17\u6301\u3061\u3088\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u6b8b\u308a\u306e\u4eba\u751f\u3067\u98f2\u9152\u306f\u304a\u308d\u304b\u7537\u53cb\u9054\u3092\u6301\u3064\u3053\u3068\u3082\u51fa\u6765\u305a\u3001\u982d\u3092\u96a0\u3055\u306a\u3044\u9650\u308a\u306f\u5916\u51fa\u3082\u51fa\u6765\u306a\u3044\u3068\u3044\u3046\u4e8b\u5b9f\u306b\u76f4\u9762\u51fa\u6765\u308b\u3060\u308d\u3046\u304b\u3002\u3082\u3057\u3082\u4eca\u3053\u3053\u306b\u30b1\u30a4\u30c8\u304c\u3044\u305f\u3089\u3001\u5f7c\u5973\u306b\u96fb\u8a71\u3057\u3066\u30de\u30eb\u30ac\u30ea\u30fc\u30bf\u3092\u4f5c\u3063\u3066\u3082\u3089\u3046\u308f\u3002\u3067\u3082\u5f7c\u5973\u306f\u3044\u306a\u3044\u306e\u3088\uff01\u3000\u3069\u3046\u3084\u3089\u4eca\u6669\u3001\u60aa\u9b54\u305f\u3061\u306f\u6b8b\u696d\u3057\u3066\u79c1\u306b\u50cd\u304d\u304b\u3051\u3066\u3044\u308b\u3088\u3046\u306d\u3002\u4eba\u3005\u306f\u79c1\u306e\u3053\u3068\u3092\u601d\u616e\u6df1\u3044\u4eba\u7269\u3060\u3068\u601d\u3063\u3066\u3044\u308b\u3068\u3044\u3046\u306e\u306b\u3002\u672c\u5f53\u306b\u7b11\u308f\u305b\u308b\u308f\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

\u79c1\u306f\u6c7a\u3081\u305f\u308f\u3002\u3084\u3063\u3066\u3084\u308b\u3002\u3084\u3089\u306a\u304d\u3083\u306a\u3089\u306a\u3044\u3002\u6700\u4f4e\u3067\u3082\u79c1\u306f\u81ea\u5206\u306e\u611a\u304b\u3055\u306b\u6c17\u4ed8\u304f\u304b\u3001\u3042\u308b\u3044\u306f\u3082\u3057\u304b\u3059\u308b\u3068\u6b63\u3057\u3044\u9078\u629e\u3092\u3057\u305f\u3053\u3068\u3001\u6b63\u3057\u3044\u9053\u306b\u3042\u308b\u3068\u3044\u3046\u3053\u3068\u3092\u5b9f\u611f\u3059\u308b\u304b\u3082\u77e5\u308c\u306a\u3044\u308f\u3002\u30a4\u30f3\u30b7\u30e3\u30fc\u30a2\u30c3\u30e9\u30fc\uff08\u795e\u306e\u5fa1\u610f\u3067\u3042\u308b\u306a\u3089\u3070\uff09\u3002\u300d<\/span><\/p>\r\n

\u305d\u306e\u591c\u306f\u4e00\u6642\u3082\u7720\u308b\u3053\u3068\u306f\u51fa\u6765\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002\u6700\u5f8c\u306e\u77ac\u9593\u307e\u3067\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u52c7\u6c17\u3092\u51fa\u3059\u3053\u3068\u306a\u3093\u3066\u51fa\u6765\u306a\u3044\u3068\u601d\u3044\u8fbc\u3093\u3067\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u3057\u304b\u3057\u3001\u6249\u304b\u3089\u51fa\u308b\u76f4\u524d\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u305d\u308c\u3092\u7740\u3051\u305f\u306e\u3067\u3059\u3002\u5f8c\u623b\u308a\u306f\u3057\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

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 <\/p>\r\n

\r\n
\r\n<\/div>\r\n

\u811a\u6ce8<\/strong>\uff1a<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\r\n

\uff11<\/a>\u8a33\u8005\u6ce8\uff1a\u30e0\u30b9\u30ea\u30e0\u304c\u7269\u4e8b\u306e\u9078\u629e\u306b\u60a9\u3093\u3060\u969b\u3001\u795e\u306e\u304a\u5c0e\u304d\u3092\u6c42\u3081\u3066\u7948\u308b\u300c\u30a4\u30b9\u30c6\u30a3\u30cf\u30fc\u30e9\u300d\u306e\u793c\u62dd\u306e\u3053\u3068\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

\uff084\/4\uff09<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

\u6539\u5b97<\/span><\/h2>\r\n

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\u4f9d\u7136\u3068\u3057\u3066\u3001\u7269\u4e8b\u306f\u601d\u3063\u305f\u3068\u304a\u308a\u306b\u306f\u884c\u304d\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002\u30e9\u30a4\u30d5\u30b9\u30bf\u30a4\u30eb\u306e\u5909\u66f4\u306b\u4f34\u3044\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u5b8c\u5168\u306a\u30c6\u30ec\u30d3\u4e2d\u6bd2\u8005\u306b\u306a\u3063\u3066\u3057\u307e\u3063\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306e\u4eba\u751f\u306f\u793c\u62dd\u3001\u305d\u3057\u3066\u591c\u306e\u30c6\u30ec\u30d3\u3092\u4e2d\u5fc3\u306b\u56de\u3063\u3066\u3044\u305f\u306e\u3067\u3059\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u305d\u306e\u3053\u3068\u306b\u6e80\u8db3\u3057\u3066\u3044\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u304c\u3001\u305d\u308c\u3092\u5909\u3048\u308b\u306b\u306f\u6020\u3051\u304d\u3063\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u30a4\u30b9\u30e9\u30fc\u30e0\u306e\u672c\u3092\u8aad\u3082\u3046\u3068\u3082\u3057\u307e\u3057\u305f\u304c\u3001\u4f55\u3082\u53d7\u3051\u3064\u3051\u306a\u304f\u306a\u3063\u3066\u3057\u307e\u3063\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306b\u95a2\u3059\u308b\u5642\u8a71\u304c\u75c5\u9662\u5185\u3092\u99c6\u3051\u5de1\u3063\u3066\u304a\u308a\u3001\u305d\u308c\u304c\u79c1\u81ea\u8eab\u306b\u623b\u3063\u3066\u304d\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u81ea\u5206\u306e\u4eba\u751f\u304c\u4ed6\u4eba\u306e\u597d\u5947\u5fc3\u306e\u5bfe\u8c61\u3068\u306a\u308b\u3053\u3068\u3001\u307e\u305f\u9670\u53e3\u3084\u5642\u8a71\u306e\u77db\u5148\u306b\u306a\u308b\u3053\u3068\u304c\u5927\u5acc\u3044\u3060\u3063\u305f\u305f\u3081\u3001\u305d\u306e\u3053\u3068\u306f\u79c1\u3092\u975e\u5e38\u306b\u52d5\u63fa\u3055\u305b\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u3042\u308b\u6669\u3001\u8077\u5834\u304b\u3089\u5e30\u5b85\u3057\u305f\u79c1\u306f\u3001\u3082\u3046\u305d\u308c\u4ee5\u4e0a\u8010\u3048\u308b\u3053\u3068\u304c\u51fa\u6765\u306a\u3044\u3068\u611f\u3058\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u5e30\u5b85\u3057\u305f\u3089\u30c6\u30ec\u30d3\u3092\u898b\u306a\u304c\u3089\u591c\u3092\u904e\u3054\u3057\u3001\u8ab0\u3068\u3082\u4f1a\u308f\u305a\u8a71\u3082\u3057\u306a\u3044\u3053\u3068\u306f\u3068\u3066\u3082\u5acc\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3057\u3001\u9031\u672b\u306f\u60aa\u5922\u306e\u3088\u3046\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002\u9031\u672b\u4e2d\u8ab0\u3068\u3082\u4f1a\u308f\u306a\u3044\u3053\u3068\u3082\u3042\u308a\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u55aa\u5931\u611f\u3068\u5b64\u72ec\u611f\u3067\u4e00\u676f\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002\u30a4\u30b7\u30e3\u30fc\u793c\u62dd\u306e\u6642\u9593\u306b\u306a\u308a\u307e\u3057\u305f\u304c\u3001\u4f55\u3082\u3059\u308b\u6c17\u304c\u8d77\u304d\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3002\u305d\u3093\u306a\u6c17\u6301\u3061\u306b\u306a\u3063\u305f\u306e\u306f\u521d\u3081\u3066\u3067\u3057\u305f\u3057\u3001\u305d\u306e\u3053\u3068\u306b\u3068\u3066\u3082\u56f0\u60d1\u3057\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306f2\u6642\u9593\u901a\u3057\u3066\u6ce3\u304d\u7d9a\u3051\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

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\u305d\u306e\u65e5\u3001\u8077\u5834\u3067\u30b3\u30f3\u30d4\u30e5\u30fc\u30bf\u90e8\u9580\u306e\u30a2\u30f3\u30ef\u30fc\u30eb\u304c\u79c1\u3092\u8a2a\u306d\u3066\u304d\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u81ea\u8eab\u306f\u5f7c\u3068\u306f\u4e00\u5ea6\u3082\u4f1a\u3063\u305f\u3053\u3068\u306f\u3042\u308a\u307e\u305b\u3093\u3067\u3057\u305f\u304c\u3001\u5f7c\u306f\u79c1\u306e\u3053\u3068\u3092\u8033\u306b\u3057\u3066\u3044\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u5f7c\u306f\u79c1\u306b\u30e9\u30fc\u30b8\u30d2\u30fc\u30fb\u30e2\u30b9\u30af\u3067\u91d1\u66dc\u65e5\u306b\u82f1\u8a9e\u306e\u30ec\u30af\u30c1\u30e3\u30fc\u304c\u3042\u308b\u3053\u3068\u3092\u6559\u3048\u3066\u304f\u308c\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u79c1\u306f\u91d1\u66dc\u65e5\u3001\u305d\u3053\u306b\u884c\u304f\u3053\u3068\u306b\u6c7a\u3081\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002\u305d\u306e\u9031\u3001\u79c1\u306f\u30c6\u30ec\u30d3\u3092\u5168\u304f\u70b9\u3051\u305a\u3001\u30c6\u30cb\u30b9\u3092\u3057\u3001\u4fe1\u983c\u306e\u7f6e\u3051\u308b\u904b\u8ee2\u624b\u306b\u30e2\u30b9\u30af\u3078\u9023\u308c\u3066\u3044\u3063\u3066\u304f\u308c\u308b\u3088\u3046\u983c\u307f\u307e\u3057\u305f\u3002<\/span><\/p>\r\n

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 <\/p>\r\n

<\/h1>","excerpt":"","terms":null,"visibility_roles":"","comment_status":1,"comment_count":0,"read_counter":8139,"lft":3080,"rght":3081,"promote":1,"sticky":0,"status":1,"publish_start":null,"publish_end":null,"created_at":"2014-08-29T00:23:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2026-04-07T11:35:49.000000Z","language_id":16,"user_id":7,"author_id":2303,"publisher_id":0,"category_id":10,"parent_id":1647,"author_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","category_name":"Why I became a Muslim!","category_slug":"Why-I-became-a-Muslim!","get_date":"2014-08-29","pdf_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/ja-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.pdf","word_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/ja-Lynda Fitzgerald, Ex-Catholic, Ireland.docx"},{"id":2340,"title":"Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA","slug":"lynette-wehner-ex-catholic-usa","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:lynette-wehner-ex-catholic-usa","hint":"","body":"

Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

 \"\"<\/p>\r\n

My new position at the Islamic school was received with reserved enthusiasm from my Christian family. “Just make sure you do not convert,” my father-in-law at the time told me when he found out about it. My mother-in-law was intrigued by the idea of being around something “exotic”. I grappled with whether I wanted to work at this school. While I would have my own classroom (which I desperately wanted), I would only be part-time and I would be required to dress Islamically (even cover my hair). This whole concept was very foreign to me. I debated with myself for a day or two until deciding to take my first teaching assignment at this school. I was open and determined that this would be a learning experience for me. Boy was it ever!<\/span><\/p>\r\n

On the first day, the new “non-Muslim” teachers were given a “scarf” lesson by a sister in the teacher’s workroom. We were laughing as we tried different styles. I still remember that morning being pretty relaxed, and it was during this event that I realized I always thought Muslims were stern and serious. It is strange how one can hold certain stereotypes of people without even knowing them. Cross off one misconception!<\/span><\/p>\r\n

During my 1st year of teaching, I learned many things. I was extremely impressed with the way that my students knew my religion (Christianity) better than I did. How did they know the stories? My students were always asking me questions about my beliefs, and they made me think. What DID I actually believe in?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I was brought up Catholic, and as an adult, I started to stray from it. I didn’t know what it was that I felt uncomfortable with, but I just knew something wasn’t right. I ventured a little into the new-age type of Christianity, but that didn’t sit well with me either. I just knew that I wanted to connect with God. I didn’t want my religion to become something that I felt I had to do in order to be considered a “good person” in the eyes of my relatives (as was the case with my husband). I wanted to feel it in my heart. Looking back now, I was lost, but didn’t know it at the time.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Kids will be kids, and my Muslim students were no different. They left their books in my classroom instead of taking them home. This was a blessing in disguise as I started to read these books after class. So much of it made sense. To help matters along, one sister and brother were more than happy to answer all of my questions, and I had many! We would discuss Islam and religion for hours. It was very intellectually stimulating and I was excited about it. I felt that I had found what I was looking for. There was a peace slowly spreading over my heart.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Around this time, I started to read the Qur’an at home. My husband at the time (I have since divorced him) did not like my interest in Islam. When I would read the Qur’an, I would do so in private without his knowledge. At first, I felt that I was doing something blasphemous. I remember being very scared that God would be upset with me. I thought to myself how can any book other than the Bible be from God? I tried to listen to my heart, and it was telling me to read. Some of the passages of the Qur’an felt as if they were written just for me. I found myself sitting there and crying many times. All at once, I felt at peace, yet confused. There was something holding me back from accepting it full-heartedly.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

After months of reading, talking with people, and a lot of soul searching, there was one event that I consider to be the determining factor in my becoming Muslim. I was standing in my son’s room trying to pray. I had a book on Islam opened to the “how to pray” section. I was standing there in conflict with myself. I was not used to praying directly to God. All of my life I was taught to pray to Jesus, who would then tell God my prayer (or something like that). I was so scared that I was doing something wrong. I didn’t want Jesus to be mad at me. At that moment, it hit me like a tidal wave. Did I really think that God would be upset at me for wanting to get closer to Him? Did I really believe that Jesus would be upset with me for trying to get closer to God? Isn’t that what he wants me to do? God knows my intent. To this day, I believe it was God talking to me-that is how powerful the feeling and voice inside my head was. What did I have to fear? How could I NOT convert to Islam? At that moment, I started crying and crying. It was what I needed to hear. I knew at that time that I had to convert to Islam. It felt right and nothing else mattered.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

After taking my shahada in front of the entire school, I was a new person. I did not have that “where-do-I-belong-and-what-do-I-believe-in” feeling anymore. It was gone. I knew that I made the right decision.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

I have never been so close to God as I have been since becoming Muslim. Alhamdullilah, I am so lucky.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>","excerpt":"","terms":null,"visibility_roles":"","comment_status":1,"comment_count":0,"read_counter":8956,"lft":4453,"rght":4456,"promote":1,"sticky":0,"status":1,"publish_start":null,"publish_end":null,"created_at":"2014-09-21T22:22:00.000000Z","updated_at":"2026-04-07T13:33:41.000000Z","language_id":1,"user_id":7,"author_id":2303,"publisher_id":0,"category_id":10,"parent_id":null,"author_name":"Lynda Fitzgerald","category_name":"Why I became a Muslim!","category_slug":"Why-I-became-a-Muslim!","get_date":"2014-09-21","pdf_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.pdf","word_asset":"http:\/\/www.islamland.com\/uploads\/articles\/en-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.docx"},{"id":2341,"title":"Lynette Wehner, excat\u00f3lica, Estados Unidos","slug":"lynette-wehner-excatlica-estados-unidos","word":"\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.docx","pdf":"\/uploads\/articles\/sp-Lynette Wehner, Ex-Catholic, USA.pdf","mime_type":null,"type":"node","path":"\/nodes\/view\/type:article\/slug:lynette-wehner-excatlica-estados-unidos","hint":"","body":"

Lynette Wehner, excatólica, Estados Unidos<\/span><\/h1>\r\n

<\/h1>\r\n

\"\"<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

Mi nuevo trabajo en la escuela islámica fue recibido con reserva por parte de mi familia cristiana. “Solo asegúrate de no convertirte”, me dijo mi suegro en esa época, cuando se enteró de ello. Mi suegra estaba intrigada por la idea de estar rodeada de algo “exótico”. Yo luchaba con el hecho de que quería trabajar en esa escuela. Aunque tendría mi propio salón de clases (algo que deseaba con desesperación), estaría solo tiempo parcial, y se me exigía que vistiera de manera islámica (incluso cubriendo mi cabello). Este concepto era muy extraño para mí. Me debatí conmigo misma durante un día o dos, hasta que decidí completar mi primera tarea docente en esta escuela. Estaba abierta y decidida a que sería una experiencia enriquecedora para mí. ¡Y sí que lo fue!<\/span><\/p>\r\n

El primer día, a las nuevas profesoras “no musulmanas” nos dieron una clase sobre la pañoleta o velo islámico, por parte de una hermana, en el salón de maestros. Nos reíamos mientras intentábamos diferentes estilos. Aún recuerdo haber estado bastante relajada esa mañana, y fue durante dicho evento que me di cuenta de que siempre había creído que los musulmanes eran gente severa y seria. Es extraño cómo uno puede mantener ciertos estereotipos sobre personas sin siquiera conocerlas. ¡Taché un concepto errado!<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Durante mi primer año de enseñanza aprendí muchas cosas. Estaba muy impresionada con la forma en que mis estudiantes conocían mi religión (cristianismo), incluso mejor que yo. ¿Cómo sabían las historias? Mis estudiantes siempre me hacían preguntas sobre mis creencias, y me hacían pensar. ¿En qué creía yo realmente?<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Fui criada católica, y de adulta comencé a alejarme de ello. No sé qué fue lo que me hizo sentirme incómoda con ello, pero sabía que algo no andaba bien. Me aventuré un poco en el cristianismo del tipo nueva era, pero eso no me cayó bien tampoco. Solo sabía que quería conectarme con Dios. No quería que mi religión se convirtiera en algo que sentía que tenía que hacer para ser considerada una “buena persona” ante los ojos de mis parientes (como era el caso de mi esposo). Quería sentirla en mi corazón. Mirando hacia atrás, estaba perdida, pero no lo sabía en ese momento.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Los niños siempre serán niños, y mis estudiantes musulmanes no eran diferentes. Dejaban sus libros en mi salón de clases en lugar de llevárselos a la casa. Esta fue una bendición disfrazada, ya que comencé a leer esos libros después de clases. Mucho de ello tenía sentido. Para ayudarme con esos temas, una hermana y un hermano estuvieron más que felices de responder todas mis preguntas, ¡y yo tenía muchas! Discutíamos sobre Islam y religión durante horas. Fue muy estimulante intelectualmente, y yo estaba emocionada con ello. Sentía que había encontrado lo que estaba buscando. Había una paz que se extendía lentamente sobre mi corazón.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Por esa época, comencé a leer el Corán en mi casa. A mi esposo de ese tiempo (me he divorciado de él) no le gustaba mi interés en el Islam. Cuando leía el Corán, lo hacía en privado sin que él supiera. Al comienzo, sentía que estaba haciendo algo blasfemo. Recuerdo haber temido mucho que Dios se enojara conmigo. Me dije a mí misma: ¿Cómo puede un libro distinto de la Biblia provenir de Dios? Traté de escuchar a mi corazón, y éste me decía que leyera. Algunos de los pasajes del Corán se sentían como si hubieran sido escritos para mí. Me encontré a mí misma sentada allí llorando muchas veces. De repente, me sentí en paz, aunque confundida. Había algo que me impedía aceptarlo completamente con entusiasmo.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Después de meses de leer, hablar con la gente, y de mucha búsqueda del alma, se produjo un acontecimiento que considero fue el factor determinante para que me convirtiera en musulmana. Estaba de pie en la habitación de mi hijo intentando rezar. Tenía un libro sobre Islam abierto en el capítulo “cómo rezar”. Estaba allí, parada, en conflicto conmigo misma. No solía rezarle directamente a Dios. Toda mi vida se me había enseñado a orarle a Jesús, quien luego le diría a Dios mi plegaria (o algo similar). Tenía mucho miedo de estar haciendo algo malo. No quería que Jesús se enojara conmigo. En ese momento, me sentí como golpeada por una ola gigante. ¿Realmente pensaba que Dios se enojaría conmigo por querer estar más cerca de Él? ¿Realmente creía que Jesús estaría enojado conmigo por tratar de acercarme a Dios? ¿Acaso no es eso precisamente lo que él quiere que haga? Dios conoce mis intenciones. Hasta el día de hoy, creo que fue Dios hablándome, así de fuerte fue el sentimiento y la voz dentro de mi cabeza. ¿Qué tenía que temer? ¿Cómo podía NO convertirme al Islam? En ese momento, comencé a llorar y llorar. Era lo que necesitaba escuchar. Supe en ese instante que me había convertido al Islam. Eso se sentía bien, y nada más importaba.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Después de hacer mi shahada<\/em> frente a toda la escuela, fui una persona nueva. Nunca más volví a tener esa sensación de “a dónde pertenezco y qué es lo que creo”. Se había ido. Sabía que había tomado la decisión correcta.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

Nunca he estado tan cerca de Dios como lo he estado desde que me hice musulmana. Alhamdu lil-lah<\/em>, soy muy afortunada.<\/span><\/p>\r\n

 <\/p>\r\n

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