Sunday, June 18, 2006

"O" 's story

He lost his mother when he was seven and within three years, his father also, and was left to the care of the extended family. He was sent to school, but could not find his place in it. He escaped and lived as a street cat for a few years, looking after himself, until an uncle discovered him and took him under his wing. The uncles ‘wing’ and the job he offered to teach him was drug trafficking! It was just a matter of time before falling into police hands. He escaped a couple of times and eventually joined some men who were leaving behind the calamities of Afghanistan searching for a better world.
He entered six different European counties, was caught without papers and expelled. So he ended up in Athens and one day came through the gates of Helping Hands. Bewildered, hurting, with no walls within him, despaired yet daring to hope, craving for true love and affection.

He was only 16 and a bit!!!!! Survivor and fighter but damaged.

He was loved by all here and was introduced to Jesus. He took some steps towards Him but he faltered. The conflicts within him and an amazingly sensitive heart made his sorrows unbearable at times, and so, last September, his life, he felt, came to a dead end and he suddenly took off and left us, ending up in Holland.

Prayers, many prayers followed him.

Here are some of the messages some of the messages that came through my mobile phone during the months of August and September last year, at the height of his distress.

Aug 04
Dear Kallia, my name is hope but I have not hope to life. I miss you. I want to see you. Love from "O"

Aug 04
BROKEN HEART IS FOR ME. ALONE IS FOR ME. BUT GOD IS FOR WHO? God forget me. ALONE is for me, sad is for me but God is for others. I want dead.

Aug 04
Dear Kallia , please do not forget me. You are my last hope. I cry. You love me or you kill me. I am alone , my mother.

Aug 04
FORGET ME FOR EVER. Angels death say Hello to i. Come with us.

22 Aug 04
Forget me. I died.

Sep 04
Dear Kallia, how are you. Love from my deep heart

Sep 04
Dear Kallia and Jim, today I went to see baptism. I want to change myself but everytime I am sad. I am thinking about before, future, time and life. Every people they think bad about me. I sit in park and I thinking. Some people saw me and think I am crazy.Yes I am.

Sep 04
Dear Kallia, today I spoke with brother Jim. He listens to me like my father, all day I was thinking about this. I am not fighter, I am weak. I swim but until when

5 Sep 04
Mountains can fly,
Ocean can dry,
You can forget me,
But never can I.

And here is, a year later, his latest e-mail message found in my computer, sent
from a refugee complex, in Holland!!!!!!!

25 Aug. 05
Dear Kallia and Jim. How are you? I am good. How is life with you? I hope you have a good time. I love you for ever…
If I can do anything for you just tell me, I have God now.

A lady who is looking into the possibility of adopting him wrote, ‘…he is in the Word constantly and I truly believe he is walking in the path of God…A lady missionary working in Holland writes, ‘during one of the projects in Amsterdam he personally led two Muslim boys to the Lord’!!!!!

Dear brothers and sisters, is any tragedy in this universe bigger then the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and is any wilderness more desperate than the desperate pursuing of the Divine Lover?

Dear partners in this ministry, please continue to intercede on the behalf of this young man until Christ is fully formed in him. His name is "O".

AND HERE IS O's STORY TOLD FROM HIMSELF...

My father was born in Kabul and lost his father when he was 10 years old. They killed his father and he was a policeman in Kabul. When he was 12 years old his mother fell from 2nd floor of the house when she was hanging out the clothes, and she died. My father grew up with different families. When he was 18 he started working for politics. He was first a soldier and when he was 20 years old the government sent him to Russia to special politic university in Moscow. He met my mother there and a relationship they started. After 4 1⁄2 years he finished university and moved back to Afghanistan but he was already married with my mother. He was 6 months in Afghanistan andthey sent him back to Moscow to keep him working.... like making bombs... like the different projects they had between different countries. After 10 months I was born in Rjazan, Russia (1988?). (“The calendar years in Iran are different than in the Netherlands calendar.”)

My mother died in the hospital from operation when I was born. When this happened it changed my father inside and he decided to stop his work. Then he told the government I don’t want to kill more people. It's enough to kill people by making guns or bombs for killing people. And the government told him that he must work for them because they sent him to university.

For the time they can use him and he must not stop the work. Also he knew what project they wanted to do, and when this happened my father took the stuff he had, like papers and documents that he had from his work. We went and we were refugees in Iran because they told him that if he didn’t work they will kill his son and they will kill him also.
We lived in Tehran and I grow up in Tehran. We had a very hard life. My father was going to work in the shop making watches. I was going to school. We were hiding ourself and every house we were living in we were using other names. In the house we had a gun because he was afraid. We moved every year to other houses. In Iran we were really afraid. We did not have contact with anybody.

One time 10 pm in the night the phone in our house was ringing. I was 13 years old. My father took the phone and after he answered he was really nervous. He went very fast and took the keys for his motorcycle, and his wallet, and his phone book, and some papers and told me go hide in the closet and not to come out until he is back. He went out and after a few minutes he came back again and said I must go with him. He was really afraid. I was asking him what is wrong. What happened? He said don’t worry I am here. I won’t leave you. We got on the motorcycle and we went to downtown Tehran. He told me to sit on the motorcycle and told me he would be back. If somebody comes near you and something happens, or you hear a voice or something, just run away. After 20 minutes my father came back. His face was white and on his forehead was blood. On his left hand was blood. He was not normal. He was dragging his foot.

I asked him what happened. He didn’t tell me. He said to just jump on the motorcycle.
We rode to the street that was going to Khavaran. When we got there in the middle of the street he stopped and he said to me to get off. I did, and right after I got off he fell down with the motorcycle. His face was really white and his eyes were red and from his mouth was coming blood and some yellow stuff. Also from an ear was coming blood. Also when he fell down he was shaking all over his body and suddenly it stopped. The people in the street helped me take him to the hospital on that street. The doctor said this man is dead. After 30 minutes a police car came and took me to the police station.

I was 1 week there in the jail with all kinds of people like killers. I was really afraid. In the jail was 5 men they hurt me so much. The room was dark and they raped me. After 1 week a soldier came and told me to come out. I went out and I went to the office there and they told me I could go.

I asked him what happened with my father. He said to me you must be happy we let you go from here and forget your father. If you know what problem your father had you would not go out from this police station. In the one week when I was there they were asking me what I know about my father and what happened. I was saying I don’t know. They asked me do you think your father had a heart attack or something like that. I asked where is the body of my father and they didn’t answer me. They gave me back the key of the motorcycle and the wallet of my father, but they did not give me back the telephone book or the papers that were with him.

After that I was going back to Khavaran to my house. When I went the door was closed. On the door was a paper from the bank saying we didn’t pay and it was closed. That day was the 3rd of the month and we payed already on the 1st. When I was coming out from the house one car came near me and they pushed me in. They covered my eyes and put something on my head. They tied up my hands and my feet on one chair. They started hitting me. And they startedasking questions from me, about the work of my father and what I know from him. And about where are the papers, the documents he was taking from Russia. They hit me and they broke my right hand, my left foot from inside was bruised from the hitting. My ribs were forced down from being hit in the chest with wood, something in their hand, and the man kicking me. Also they took hot water and poured it near my left knee. They cut with scissor my pinkie finger and on my index finger on my left hand. On the right they did the same. They were hitting me with brass knuckles and asking me the same questions. After 5 days one time I was on the floor. The things over my eyes were coming off. I saw the face of them – 3 men and one woman. They were just talking to each other in the room. Two of them look like Afghani people. The woman and the other man looked Russian – blond hair. After that they understand that I saw them. They put me on the chair again and started using electricity and a cable with wires on my chest and on my neck. After that I fainted again.

Next day one of the men came to me and he said this is your last day. If you tell us where are the documents we will let you go. If you don’t tell we will kill you. I had fallen down near the windows. My hands and feet were not tied. The window was open and the man busy with some books on the other side of the room. Something in myself said just jump from this window. I was really afraid. I was on the 2nd floor of the house but I jumped and I came down on the grass. The house was like a villa. I was just running far, as far as I can from that place. I went to one park and I sleep three days in a park, cold weather. I sat on a bench and I couldn’t move. My foot was swollen and it could not move. All my body was in pain.

Somebody came and said my name. I saw it was the friend of my father. He asked me what happened and I tell all the things to him. He took me to a hospital. I was 1 month in the hospital. They did an operation on my hand and my foot, and treated my burns. After that the friend of my father said he was going to Turkey and he asked me if I wanted to go with him or not.

Actually he said I must go with him or these people will take you and kill you. Also he made a photo of my injuries. He said if you go to another place you will have something to show to them.

From Iran to Turkey we were one month on the way. First we took a bus from Tehran to Kordestan. We crossed the border with a horse. After that we were walking in the mountains and after we went with one truck to Ankara. And from there we went with another truck to Istanbul.

I was in Istanbul 4 months. First in Haghsarai and after another house in Zatunbornu. After that the friend was leaving to Greece. He took me and we were 5 days on the way. First we went by truck to the border. We crossed the border with a boat. In that time so much people died because of drowning, but we made it. We were in Athens and the friend of my father left earlier than me from Greece. He went to Norway.

I was living alone in Athens. It was there I became a Christian. I was baptized and grew in my faith.    Then was beginning other problems for me with Muslim Afghanistan people about the religion. I was talking with so many people about Jesus. Also I was going to Helping Hands. They gave me a house because I had nothing. I didn’t have clothes, even I was taking food from the garbage and eating that, from hunger.

When I became a Christian everything changed. The Muslim Afghanis were trying to tell me to leave this religion. If you don’t do it we will kill you. One night a group was coming and they were just hitting me. In the middle of this time I decided to leave Greece. I try to do that. I asked one smuggler to make a passport for me. That time was the Olympic Games 2004.
Near the end of the Olympic Games one time in the night I was walking to the house, I was living at the Helping Hands house. A bunch of people came and they had something hiding their faces. They put me into something... like plastic... like a tarp... my hand was tied and my feet were tied. They put me in the trunk of a car. They took me to a place near the sea and they threw me into the water. I was lucky because at that time a boat... God saved me... the boat of the police was crossing there. They took me out from the water and asked me who did this to you? I did see their faces. I didn’t know what to tell them.

That time I was afraid and I took the passport and I went with the bus to one island of Greece. From there I bought a ticket to Italy. I tried first time, and second time, but I couldn’t. They understand that the passport is not mine. I came out from where the ship is and two boys tried to take me to a dark place to rob me. Again I was lucky because the police were crossing there. God was with me. After that I went back to the harbor and bought the ticket of the last ship. I prayed and I went inside the ship without a problem.

After 15 hours I was in Italy, Ancona. From Ancona I took a train to Rome. When I was in Rome I only had 2 euros and I was sleeping in the street for one week. I remember a woman I met in Greece from America and she was living in Virginia. Her name is Darlene. I went to a calling center where after the phone conversation you pay. My call was exactly 2 euros so I could pay when I came out. Darlene sent me about $300.

With that money I bought a ticket to Paris. From Paris I bought a ticket to Amsterdam. In Amsterdam I called a woman living in Netherlands. I had her number from the friend of my father. She said to me if I say I was in Greece they will send me back to there. I must tell some other thing. I was afraid to go back to Greece because I tried so much to live there and I had so much problem with the Muslim Afghanistan people. That is why I lied. Also I was thinking if I tell the story of my father the police of Netherlands will get me and put me in prison. For me police is the same as those Iran. I keep that in myself.

About two months ago I had a phone call from Norway at 4 am. Somebody in the place of the friend of my father was calling me. He was trying to know where I am living, but I understand it was not my father’s friend but another man. I had so many phone calls in these two months from them. In the first phone call he told me I have something for you. I asked what is that. He said it is the phone book of your father and it has your picture
in it.

They told me my father was a terrorist and they asked me what I know about my father and if I have those documents from my father I must send back to them. They said to me if I know something about my father or if I see what is inside the document I am one of them. If somebody is in this work they can never get out of it. Like your father--he wanted to stop but we killed him.

The last phone call I had was 1 December. They gave me one week time to send the documents back to them. They said if I don’t send back to them they will kill me. And they told me exactly what they were doing in that villa in Iran to me. I am really afraid of them. I don’t want to start again running to other country because when I came in Netherlands was beginning a big rest for me. Netherlands was a paradise for me. Here I can go to school. They give me house, food, clothes, I don’t need to be afraid from people. I had very nice time till now here with so many friends from church and school.

I decide to trust God and the government and that is why I tell all this story. Till now I saw so many things from God and now I trust Him. He has blessed me with so much. When I have trust in Him I must tell the truth. Now I just tell the truth.    I am sure God is with me and He is helping me. Also I pray He touch the heart of the person who is reading this also.

Monday, June 05, 2006

"A" 's story

My name is " A" . I'm 28 years old, and I from Tehran, Iran. I am married and I have a one and a half year old son. I've lived outside Iran for almost 7 years. I was in Turkey for 6 years. I have been in Greece now for almost 7 months.

4 years ago I returned to Iran to get married, then I returned to Turkey with my wife. After 2 years, God gave us our son. I gave him as a gift to God to use him anywhere. Because of the economic problems in Turkey, I sent my wife and son back to Iran 9 months ago. I came to Greece by myself.

I grew up in a strict Muslim house. When I was 16 years old, I started work as a tailor in a shop that employed 40 people. The owner of the shop was an Armenian Christian. One day he came to visit the shop. He came up to me-it was a Thursday, the last day of the Muslim week, when my week's work was already over-and I was just sewing a pair of trousers for myself. When he saw my job, he asked if I would like to work with him privately. Two weeks later, I quit that job and started working for him in his house. His customers were Armenian as well. His house was far from our house, so my employer decided to let me sleep at his house and I would go home on weekends. When I told my parents, they didn't want to let me go because they believed that my employer's family was unclean (because they were not Muslims), that I should not eat with them, and that I shouldn't even accept their money. But I told my parents, "I know them, and they are really polite, and I love them." My employer had 2 children. His son was 4 years younger than me, and his daughter was 6 years younger, so we became exactly like brothers and sisters. His wife loved me like her children. She didn't let me wash my own clothes but would do my laundry herself. I worked for them for 5 years, and during that whole time, they would talk about Jesus. His wife was a wonderful believer. She wanted to make sure that I knew that Jesus was the Son of God and He is the only way to salvation.

When I got older, I was had to go into the army. I became friends with my fellow soldiers and became more like them. I can say that, before, when I was in my employer's house, I didn't sin, but in the two years I was with my fellow soldiers, I sinned enough to send me straight to hell. After a couple of months, I was reassigned in the army to the religious police division, where I was taught how to interrogate and brainwash people. There was a mullah (Islamic religious leader) there who encouraged us to engage in Sighe, a sort of "short" marriage, blessed by a mullah, that only lasts between a man and woman for a certain period of time (from two months to one year). [The orphanages in Iran are mostly filled with children from these kinds of "marriages."] So I did. But after a couple of these Sighe, something inside me told me, "Don't you know anything about Jesus? Why are you doing this?" So I decided to walk separately from my friends. It was difficult because I was in the army.

When I got out of the army, I went to Turkey. I didn't know there was an Iranian church in Turkey. I'd never been to church because my employer was afraid to bring me to a church back in Iran. [It is forbidden for Muslims to enter a church or for Christians to speak about their faith to Muslims.] After I had been in Turkey for 4 years, I was walking in the open-air market with my wife when I saw a man and a woman approaching us. They had heard us speaking Farsi. They gave us a book called What Is Christianity?and invited us to the church. I had talked to my wife prior to that about Christianity and my employer, and she was interested in Christianity too, but she didn't know anything about it. So we were so glad to find the church in Istanbul. We went to the church and Sister Gity from England was there. That was our first day in church. We were so impressed. After ten months, we saw the fruit of Jesus in our lives. We also saw a lot of miracles in our child's birth. So we decided to give our lives to Jesus and ask Him to use us and live in us. Last year, we got baptized.

I want to share some of the things that have happened since I've believed in Jesus. Recently, my wife was sick because she was alone because we had been separated for so long. She was so depressed that she couldn't move half of her body. She couldn't sleep at all for a whole week. It was during the First Timothy Project, and Brother Themis asked us to all pray for each other. Brother Sam prayed for me. Two days later, when I came back to Athens from attending the Project, I called Iran. It was 10 o'clock at night, and I woke my wife. She told me that she had been able to sleep for two days, from exactly the time that Sam prayed for her. I thank God for that.

I believe that all of our problems can be taken to God by faith. I wish for all the believers to refresh their spirits with faith and prayers. And I pray for unbelievers to open their hearts to have Jesus' love and peace inside. The Grace of our God, Jesus Christ, be with you forever.

"E"'s Story

Finally, a Purpose!

Into this universe, and why not knowing, nor whence, like water willy-nilly flowing:
and out of it, as wind along the waste, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
- Omar Khayam, Rubaiyyat"

As a boy in Iran, I dreamt big. I grew up in a military base, where my father served as an officer in the Iranian Army. Ours was an orderly life, filled with predictable days and practical goals. I was a good kid and I did what was expected of me. I was also ambitious and saw everything as a great adventure. I loved to run through the fields and race through the soldiers' obstacle courses; a small warrior conquering imaginary enemies.

But as I grew up I became restless. I felt confined in that military base and my dreams spilled over the walls. Alone at night, I dreamt of leaving Iran and of traveling to faraway countries. I also dreamt of victory, of freedom, and of great experiences of many types. But beneath these goals was a deeper dream: to find my purpose. I thought that I could achieve this through escape and success, so I was driven by my dream and determined to make it real.

Every dream requires a first step, and my first step was to go to university. I graduated with a degree in English, then taught in Tehran. Soon I'd saved enough money to take another step toward my dream: leaving Iran. After four failed attempts, I finally crossed the border into Turkey. I headed to Istanbul, found a job, and met other Iranians who also dreamt of going west. We were young, energetic and confident. Together, we planned our escape to Greece.

Going to Greece was a dream but the journey was a nightmare. We took a boat and then walked for a week, growing wearier every day from the cold and hunger. En route, we were falsely accused us of goat stealing and I used most of my money to pay off the accuser. Finally, we stumbled into Athens, rented a room in Omonia, and set off to find work.

Slowly, each of us found jobs and settled down. I didn't like being in Athens, though, so I kept myself busy by working, learning English and saving money to buy fake passports. Armed with these, I was free to leave Greece. I bought the passports but needed money for tickets, so I continued working. But I couldn't save money. I was getting discouraged and felt that my dream was fading. What did the future hold? Would I be a refugee in Athens forever?

During this time, a friend invited me to a Christian church. Having nothing better to do, I went. I didn't know much about Christianity, but like most Muslims, I'd heard that Jesus was a prophet. To me, He was a myth, like Ali Baba.

But as I walked into the church, I could see that the Christians had a very different idea. To them He was real, and He was everything. I watched, amazed, as they praised Him joyfully and prayed to Him lovingly. They seemed to know Him as a friend, and yet they spoke of Him as God. Several told how Jesus had saved them and had given their lives a purpose. They called Jesus their Savior and their Lord.

Their Savior? I didn't understand why these people needed to be saved or how a myth could give them purpose. To me, the Christians' dependence on Jesus was a weakness and their enthusiasm was foolish. I looked down on their naiveté.

But then something happened that melted my defenses: the pastor began to speak. He spoke of God in a way I had never heard. And he spoke of Him so passionately and pragmatically that I wanted to hear more.

First, the pastor said that God loves us. He read from the Injil, "God so loved the world that He gave His only son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not die but will have eternal life." (John 3:16) The pastor said that one of the names for God is "Abba", the Hebrew word that small children use to address their fathers. He said that God loves His children more tenderly than the most attentive father on earth.

He said that God is a good father who wants to give His children a wonderful life. He read from the Injil: "I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly," (John 10:10). Like a good father, God has a plan for His children. "For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11) Furthermore, God loves us so much that He offers us the gift of spending Eternity with Him in Heaven.

All of this seemed too good to be true. God loves me? God has good plans for my life? God wants to give me a future and a hope, and spend Eternity with me? I wanted to know more. If God loved me and had a plan for my life, how could I feel that love and find that purpose? How could I become the child of such a wonderful Father?
Perhaps, I thought, I had never known God's love and plan because I hadn't tried hard enough to please Him. Perhaps I could become His child by working harder or by living a perfect life.

Yes, said the pastor, perfection was necessary. But none of us can be perfect. Even if we follow religious rules, perform good deeds, fast, and go on pilgrimage, we still won't be holy. We are sinners, said the pastor, and our sin separates us from God. The Injil makes this clear: "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23); "As it is written, 'There is none righteous, not even one." (Romans 3:10); and "All our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment." (Isaiah 64:6).

I had never considered myself a sinner. In fact, I thought I was a good person. But if good deeds couldn't save me and make me right with God, what was the answer?

The answer, said the pastor, is Jesus. Jesus can save us because Jesus is more than a good prophet; Jesus is God's perfect Son. He died on the cross and rose from the dead to pay the debt for our sins. When Jesus was dying on the cross, his final word was "tetelestai", a Greek phrase meaning "the debt has been paid, the work is finished." If a person believes in Jesus, God forgives his sins, adopts him as His child, and promises him Heaven after death (I John 5:11-13).

When the pastor finished speaking, he invited us to pray. I didn't pray. But the next week, I went back to that church. I arrived early and saw several young people kneeling in prayer. Suddenly, my spirit was moved and I burst into tears. I was so embarrassed that I ran into the bathroom to hide.

As I wept, my vision cleared and I felt as though a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I knew then that God loved me, and that I needed Jesus. I knew then that I could spend the rest of my life running from country to country in search of purpose and peace, but that only Jesus could make my dream real. I prayed and told Jesus everything, and then asked Him to be my Lord and my Savior.

Since then, God has given me my deepest desire: great peace, and a purpose higher than any I could have imagined. I know that because of Jesus, I am God's child and my sins are forgiven. I was restless and afraid for my future, but now I know that God is leading me. I may not get everything I want, but God will give me everything I need. I now have the greatest purpose on earth: the privilege of serving my Savior and God. And when I die, I will see Him face-to-face and spend Eternity with Him. Now that is an adventure.

I traveled the world and finally found my home in Jesus. When I doubted my fate, God had a purpose behind every step of my refugee journey. I believe that God called me to travel west, to come to Athens, to attend the Christian church, to hear about Jesus and to believe in Him.

Before I knew God, He knew me and loved me. Before I heard Him, He was calling me.

I believe that He is calling you, too. Will you answer?

"D" 's Testimony

A New Life

When someone becomes a Christian, he becomes a new person inside.
He is not the same any more. A new life has begun!
- II Corinthians 5:17

As a young man in Afghanistan, I knew something about Jesus. Like other Muslims, I thought He was a special prophet and an amazing person. I respected Him and even believed that He rose from the dead, but I didn't believe that He was God.

Gradually, my interest in Jesus grew and my ideas changed. This began when I had a dream about Jesus. I'd been thinking about my future, and told my parents that I wanted to change my religion and leave Afghanistan. You can imagine how they responded! They said the same thing that your parents would have said: They told me I was crazy. I had been a very religious Muslim so they couldn't understand my change of heart; but they loved me and didn't forbid my pursuits.

Then I had a second dream: I dreamt that I left Afghanistan, converted to Christianity, and was being baptized in the sea. This dream was really outrageous since I had little hope of escaping Afghanistan and no reason to change religions. But that dream never left me and it kept my interest in Jesus alive.

When I was 17 years old, I rejected Islam and began searching for another religion. Some of my friends who knew of my search called me an atheist.

But Afghanistan is not the place for religious experimentation. I knew that if I wanted to learn more about Jesus, I would need to leave my country. To prepare me for the journey, my sister's husband suggested that I learn English. My parents, who had never learned to read their own language, cheered me on. If my dream of leaving Afghanistan became real, I wanted to be ready.

As I studied, something wonderful happened: I met an American family of Christians in Afghanistan. They welcomed me like a son and soon I could see that their lives were different. They were honest, gracious, and full of hope. I was attracted to their optimism and wondered how I could find the same joy. In those days, as I dreamt about the future and tried to find the truth, I felt as if there might be a door through which I could walk to begin a new life. I didn't know how to find that door, but I felt that these Christians were closer to it than anyone I'd ever met before.

I loved that family and wanted to become like them. I though that I could do this by going to America. I asked the mother how I might accomplish this. It isn't easy, she said. Go step by step. If God wants you to go to America, He'll lead you there.

Step by step, my journey began. From Afghanistan, I went to Pakistan, and then on to Iran. There, my curiosity about Jesus grew. How could I find out more about this forbidden faith? I found my answer in an unlikely place: on the street. As I wandered in the markets, I saw a vendor selling Bibles. I bought one and marveled that I hadn't been caught, since buying Bibles is illegal for Muslims in Iran.

I began to devour that Bible, reading first the Old and then the New Testaments. Much of what I read mystified me but I continued my search. I tried to attend a Christian church in Iran, but the Christians feared that I was a Muslim and wouldn't let me enter the building. I waited outside, tried to listen to the message, and then went on my way.

As I traveled west, other significant events helped me to understand more about Jesus. In Iran, I saw a movie that claimed that He was the Son of God, and that He died on the cross to pay the price for the sins of the world. When I arrived in Turkey, I went to Catholic and Orthodox churches and learned a bit more.

When I arrived in Athens, my search took on a new urgency. I slept in Alexandreas Park for two months and was relieved when someone there told me about Helping Hands in Omonia. At Helping Hands, I ate soup and met other guys my age who were traveling west. I went to the English and Bible lessons, and I liked the friendly Christians who ran the center.

I especially liked the Bible teacher. I learned many good things about Jesus and got a clearer understanding of the Bible by attending his classes. The teacher told us often that Jesus could give a person a new life. He read from the Injil: When someone becomes a Christian he becomes a new person inside. He is not the same any more. while going to America might give me a better life, knowing Jesus would give me the best life.

That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, so I took matters into my own hands. I joined a group of men who planned to go to Italy. As we waited for the ferry boat in Patra, a woman approached me and handed me a book about Jesus. I was stunned. There are hundreds of people here in the crowd, I thought to myself. Why did she give this book to me?

Meanwhile, passengers were boarding the ferry boat and my friends urged me to follow them. But I realized that I didn't want to follow them, and felt an urge to return to Athens. I was sure that an important encounter awaited me there, and so I returned alone as my friends sailed west.

When I got back to Omonia, I marched into Helping Hands. I told the Bible teacher about the woman in Patra and said that I wanted to become a Christian. The Bible teacher listened patiently and then asked me why I wanted to change my religion. Do you want to become a Christian to go to America, or to know Jesus? he asked.

That was a hard question, and I didn't know the answer. I realized that my motives were mixed. I asked God to show me which religion I should choose. Oh God, I prayed, Show me the way! Soon I had a third dream: I dreamt of the cross of Christ, and I heard Jesus say, I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father, but through me. (John 14:6).

Shortly after that, the Bible teacher asked me to translate some of the Koran into English. As I read the passage describing Jesus' birth, I compared the Koran's account with the Injil's, and was convinced that Jesus wasn't only a prophet, but the Son of God who came to earth to die for my sins and to give me a new life.

That moment of belief was the important encounter that awaited me in Athens -- the most important encounter of my life. Soon I was baptized in the sea, thus fulfilling my boyhood dream.

What have I gained from following Jesus? First, joy. I'm very happy because I know that Jesus has saved me from the sins that should have condemned me. I'm also happy because through Jesus, I can know God, and can talk to Him like a son. God also encourages me during the hard times when the realities of the world bring me pain. Last year, for example, I had a bad accident in Athens and I was tempted to doubt God. But I learned that suffering builds my faith.

Trusting Jesus as my Savior has also helped my attitude. Before I was a Christian, I was a good, hard worker who minded the law. But I was also very proud and I judged other people harshly. Now I am humbled that Jesus took the punishment for my sins and that I am only saved by His grace. God has given me love for my enemies, patience, and the peace that my life is safe in His hands.

One of my favorite stories in the Injil is the story of Jesus and the demoniac who lived among the tombs. The man, tormented by demons and darkness, was hopeless. But Jesus healed him and gave him a new life. Before he left the man, Jesus said to him, Return to your house and describe what great things God has done for you. The man went away, proclaiming throughout the whole city what great things Jesus had done for him (Luke 8:38, 39).

I feel like that man! Jesus has given me a new life, and He can give you a new life, too.

As you read this, I am somewhere in Italy, or perhaps I am even further in my journey. I don't know if I'll ever see America, but that isn't important to me now. I have found the Door to a new life, and His name is Jesus.


Scott and Vicki McCracken
Panagiotou 3
Papagou 15669
Athens, Greece

Tel: (30) 210-65-28-191
E-mail: scott.mccracken@iteams.org
Web: www.ITRefugeeMinistry.org
(click "TEAMS", click "ATHENS)