Khalil Fakeh’s Testimony

Jesus asked Simon concerning the sinful woman who anointed his feet in Luke chapter 7, “Who would love a creditor more? The one who had many debts forgiven? Or the one with few?” I feel very comparable to this woman whose multitude of sins were forgiven. This is my story of gratitude where my own past, full of many sins, was forgiven.

I was part of a big family with nine siblings born to my mother and five more to our stepmother. Because of our family size, the degree of importance and attention needed for a child wasn’t equally provided. We didn’t have an available mother to take care of us and my childhood was very tough. We were living in a town called Mit Ghamr when my mother passed in 1962. I was nine years old and the youngest was five. In the course of a month or so my father Farag married my stepmother. Shortly after, we left our hometown and moved 75 miles east to Ismailia, a city on the Suez Canal.

This was all taking place at a very critical age for me as I was only a ten year old boy. Although my father was the manager of a cigarette company, the income was minimal. He didn’t believe in family planning and five more children were added to the mix from his second wife. He was overwhelmed by the added expenses and his attention for the family diminished even further. To make matters worse, my stepmother was simple and socially uninformed. She didn’t know how to handle the nine of us nor her own biological children. This was partly what started to send me down a destructive path at about twelve years of age. By age fifteen I was smoking and fully living a life of sin with a group of toxic friends who hugely influenced my sinful actions.

In 1967, the Six-Day War between Egypt and Israel broke out. People had to leave their homes, especially the area where we lived which was under extreme danger. Ismailia was on the Suez Canal across from Sinai exactly where the war was taking place. The situation was dangerous as Israeli warplanes were shooting in very close proximity to where we lived. Our entire family had to abruptly leave town and flee to the closest safe place. We took a public bus with nine or ten other people and headed 40 miles west towards Faqous where my uncles and grandfather lived. Close to a town called El Salheya, Israeli warplanes started strafing everything on the road since we were mixed in with a convoy of Egyptian army vehicles. The vehicles in front of us and behind us were hit, but by some miracle our bus was left unscathed. The bus driver stopped and had us all leave immediately to find a hiding place. Eventually the planes left and we got back on the bus and continued on to Faqous after miraculously surviving the attack.

In Faqous my father was left with a big decision on how to move forward and provide lodging for us. My oldest sister lived in Upper Egypt and had a family of her own, so my father sent four of us 325 miles to live with her for about a year. We bounced around with her family from El Quseyya to Manfalut to Asyut due to her husband’s job in a food distribution center. My father then moved the rest of the family to Zagazig to stay with my oldest brother. He had been married for a few short months and lived in my stepmother’s old house which was across the street from a Brethren meeting. A year later in 1968, my father was able to find an apartment and brought the four of us back from Upper Egypt and our family was reunited. [Perhaps counterintuitively, Upper Egypt is in the south of Egypt because it is upstream of the Nile Delta]

During the course of that year at my sister’s house I was in middle school and my spiritual state only deteriorated further. I started smoking hookah and completely gave in to sin. My actions continually worsened and corrupt friendships took me down a deeper path of sin during the years that followed in Zagazig. I was a young person without an available father as he traveled to Ismailia two or three times a week for his job distributing cigarettes to the Second and Third Field Armies. We stayed in Zagazig from 1968 to 1974 and we returned to Ismailia after Egypt won Sinai back during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.

After returning to Ismailia in 1974, I joined the army for my mandatory conscription for a total of about two and a half years. Basic training took place in Cairo for about three months and the Lord was clearly covering and protecting me from evil in those days even when I was deep in sin. By His grace He kept me alive. I remember towards the end of the three months I would find myself unable to stand being in camp and wishing I could escape at the end of each day. I had a close friend, Magdy, who constantly encouraged me to take risks and break the rules with him. We would often sneak out at night and return at dawn before the morning formation. One night we were famished and decided to sneak out to buy sandwiches since the army food came in small portions and was tasteless. I remember the sandwiches had falafel, potatoes, and eggplant among other ingredients. The next day at camp I was in immense pain and they had to transfer me to the hospital. I stayed there a long time as I was fighting for my life from an excruciating case of food poisoning. That sandwich had most likely been sitting in the hot sun all day and was completely spoiled. I was knocking on death’s door but God miraculously saved me. After that experience, army assignments took place and I was sent to Ismailia where my family was. This wasn’t through a preference request as I could have been sent anywhere, but it was through God’s plan for my next chapter. My friends helped me walk back from the hospital, collected my issued gear, and we took the military train to Ismailia. As soon as I arrived my warrant officer saw I was extremely sick. He gave me a week’s leave to regain my strength so I went home. For the remainder of my time in the army I would ride my bicycle to the military base and then ride back home at the end of the day. The days were long and exhausting, I would be there from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. and the bike rides took about an hour each way.

At this point I was 25 years old and about to finish my time in the army and needed a plan for how I was going to make a living. One of my older brothers had been living in Iraq for almost four years. He was an agricultural engineer and was sent there on a 4-year mission by the Egyptian government to the Iraqi government. His goal was to educate Iraqis in his field and he was making good money with a comfortable job. Before his time in Iraq was up, I sent him a letter to ask if I could join him and he invited me to come. Without informing anyone, not even my family, I got my passport and prepared myself for the trip. Somehow I collected just enough money for a one-way plane ticket. I finally shared my plans with my family and they were delighted to see me go because of how viciously I acted at home. I was abusive, treated them harshly, and no one tolerated me. The day that Khalil left home was a day of rest for everyone else. Needless to say, nobody questioned my desire to go. They were ready to be rid of me. The anticipated day finally came and I flew to Iraq in early October of 1978.

My brother was waiting for me at the airport and he took me to his house. He only had two or three weeks left before he had to return to Egypt, but he had many connections so he was able to promptly find me some employment. Through his acquaintances, he found a suitable position in a Brazilian HVAC production company. I was ecstatic because I had spent two years earning an associate’s degree at an industrial technical institute specializing in air conditioning. I fully expected life to finally go my way and dreamed of making good money and finding happiness. All my ambitions were materialistic and worldly. My brother then introduced me to all his friends and the people he had a connection with in case I needed help or some company after he left.

There was a group of people in Iraq that my brother had a close relationship with, one of which was another Egyptian named Dr. Sobhi who taught physics at the Iraqi University. He had been there for many years and had a large house that he opened to immigrants and welcomed them. They met every Thursday where they would sing a hymn, someone would share a Bible message, tea and dessert would be served, and then everybody returned to their homes. My brother brought me to their Thursday meeting and personally introduced me the week before he left Iraq.

The next Wednesday he was due to fly home to Egypt. He encouraged me to attend the weekly gathering and then he started packing his belongings. The last thing he wanted to do was find me a place to live. He was able to find an empty bed in a shared room at a hotel with a rent I could afford to pay since I still had not yet earned any income. My bed was one of many in that room and it only had enough space at the foot for my small bag. This was a temporary fix until I would be able to afford better housing and my brother left me a little bit of money to hold me over until I received my first paycheck. With housing secured, we headed to the airport.

At that time Iraq had a few strict laws, one of which prohibited travelers from transporting electric devices outside the country. My brother’s wife had a sewing machine she was particularly attached to and she mentioned this issue to a close colleague. Her husband worked in the Ba’ath political party and he used his clout to allow her to travel with it. The Ba’ath party member, my brother, his wife, and I headed to the Baghdad International Airport with all their belongings. We came to security where to everyone’s shock my brother’s name was on a blacklist of those forbidden from traveling outside of Iraq. The security guards told us that my brother was needed in security, but the Ba’ath party member took the list, signed his name by my brother’s name, and ordered them to let him through.

After their plane departed I left the airport and headed back to my bed where the Holy Spirit started to work in my heart. I truly felt exiled, homesick, and alone. I no longer had my brother with me and I had to figure out how to live on my own in this foreign place. The next day was Thursday and I remembered the group of people that my brother introduced me to. I impatiently waited to make my way to Dr. Sobhi’s house where I could spend time with some slightly familiar people. I thought I would go to pass the time, drink tea and have some desserts, unload my mental and emotional burden, and at the end I would return to my bed in the hotel. I desperately needed some company and with the following day being a Friday when I could rest, I felt a nudge to get out and be with them. [Friday and Saturday are the weekend in Iraq and many other Muslim majority countries]

I strongly believe that this night was specifically prepared by the Lord for my own soul. I went to the meeting at Dr. Sobhi’s house and it was held in a large room with numerous people of various nationalities, some Iraqis and Egyptians included. That night’s speaker was a 73-year-old traveling missionary named Brotli who came especially to spread the gospel in Iraq. The meeting started the same way with some hymns first, then this brother got up to preach. He went to Genesis and began preaching about Noah’s ark. He described the state of the ark, the destruction, the wrath, and how those who were inside survived while those who stayed outside were wiped from the face of the earth. He talked about what will take place in the last days and the Lord’s Second Coming. Those words spoke to me personally, and this was the day that I met with the Lord. My only Christian experience up to that point was carrying around a small Bible since its possession was superstitiously believed to keep you from harm. I had never read it. That night, something deep inside completely shook me. I was frightened by the message and I started to feel panicked and sat in utter terror as I listened to the gospel message. The Lord was starting to work in my heart as the missionary was speaking. When the meeting ended, I was in a fog just sitting there while everyone else drank tea, ate biscuits, and chatted. I decided to leave since I was exhausted from the day’s work and needed to sleep. Not only was I physically tired, but I was also feeling extremely anxious and in a heavy mental state from the missionary’s message.

I started to leave when two of the attendees came after me asking me where I was heading. I told them I was going to a nearby hotel and didn’t mind the walk back. They insisted on giving me a ride even after I tried to convince them that I truly didn’t mind the walk. Anyway, I let them take me to the hotel in their German Volkswagen. They confirmed with me that I lived in that hotel, wished me a good night, and left. I went up to my bed and tried to close my eyes to sleep but it was impossible. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about everything I heard that night and responding to the message. I remembered my Bible, the one buried deep in my bag. I wanted to know more about the story of Noah’s ark, so I found the passage that the message was about and reread it. I was being born again in that moment. I had an intense internal spiritual battle between what was inside of me, this book in my hands, the state I was in, and the life I could be living. I was all alone in a new country, what would become of me? My thoughts raced back and forth until dawn. After hours of spiritual warfare, I finally prayed, repented, and gave my life to the Lord Jesus Christ. Only then was I able to finally go to sleep where I had the best and deepest sleep of my life.

Suddenly at about nine in the morning, someone from reception woke me up and asked me my name. He then told me there were two people at the counter asking for me, so I went down with him. They confirmed my name and where my bed was located. Then they came to my room, started looking through my bag, and soon found my Bible. They took it and asked me to come with them for only five minutes then they would let me return. I got into their car and arrived at a place that looked like a major security agency. I later came to find out that these two men were from the Iraqi Intelligence. They were collecting a few people and one by one I saw the same faces I saw the night before at the meeting. I still wasn’t quite familiar with all of them as I had only seen them twice so far, but I started to recognize a few and realized that the entire group was being summoned. They finally had every single person from that group in this public security building. The place was packed with people. They took us all aside and divided us into groups: foreigners in one (Mr. Brotli, Egyptians, Swiss, Germans, an Indian, and others) and Iraqis in another. The group of us foreigners were put in vehicles and taken to the General Intelligence Building and the Iraqis stayed behind in the General Security Building.

This intelligence building was used to detain any suspicious individuals who were believed to oppose Saddam Hussein in any form, a place that was meant to put fear in his people so that they would blindly follow him. It was known that if you are taken to this place, there’s a chance you may not come out of it. We were all taken to the bottom floor where the guards searched each of us. We instantly noticed the difference in treatment. In the public security building, we were treated in an honorable and respectable way. In this place, we were hit, punched, and slapped by the guards. They forced us to hand them everything that we had: watches, money, and other items. They blindfolded us completely with cloths that seemed to have been covered in human blood. I imagine their intent was to instill horror and show intimidation. They put each of us in a separate cell, no two of us were together. Some of us went to a single cell and others were in a group cell with strangers. I was placed in a group cell with people from various other cases. I was in complete shock at this point. I didn’t understand what was happening, why they took me, or what I was doing in a prison. No one explained anything to us.

They started by retrieving the people from our group who were the ones running the meeting. This included Dr. Sobhi and another Iraqi who had opened his home in Baghdad for a meeting place. They were blindfolded and taken to be questioned. They were interrogated, tortured, and even electrocuted. The guards made a big mess of them until they were convinced that this meeting had no political agenda, that it was solely religious and had nothing to do with Saddam. The physical damage those brothers endured left them with serious and lasting health issues. We stayed in this prison for 48 grueling days. All we had to eat was broth and a tiny bit of hard bread with the sole purpose of keeping us barely alive. I saw some gruesome sights.

This was during the time when the Camp David Accords took place between Egypt and Israel in the United States. Most Arab countries were angered by the peace agreement with Israel, so they kicked Egypt out of the Arab League. Iraq was one of the countries that led this split and they accused many people, especially the youth, of being Egyptian intelligence sent to spy on Iraq. People were being detained straight from the airport. One of them was a roughly thirty year old Egyptian man who was placed next to me in my group cell. He was removed multiple times for investigations and questioning and one day he never returned. He was most likely executed and sent back to his family in a casket. They called these types of detainees the “flying coffins” who were sent straight back to Egypt. This happened to a great number of young Egyptian men. There were also many communists and other rough types of people in this jail, all of whom were treated like animals. Even worse than animals in some cases.

I had huge favor in the sight of the Lord because He put me in a cell with very dim lighting. The others were almost pitch black and most were single cells. There was an average of ten people in my cell that should have barely housed four or five. We were given just enough food to survive but not enough to be full. We were allowed a daily trip to the bathroom and once a week we took a shower and saw the sun. Each of us had our own spot on the floor barely big enough for our size that we slept, stood, sat, and ate in. One of the security guards at the door had his heart softened towards me, it had to be because of God’s grace for me. When it was time to give out a meal and he was the one distributing it, he would give me a little more to eat. Just enough for a bit of extra support.

Towards the end of the 48 days, we heard our names being called out for questioning, one at a time. I wasn’t called down for questioning until the very end. I was taken blindfolded, and my knees felt stuck and I could barely walk. I stood in front of the investigator who started questioning me. I couldn’t answer, all I was feeling was weakness and inability to stand. One of the guards there started violently slapping me as I was begging him for mercy and trying to express that I was close to collapsing. They finally put a chair behind me and I sat down. They asked me to sign my name on a piece of paper. All I wanted was to get out of there as quickly as possible so I signed, not knowing what I just signed for. Then the guard took me back to my cell.

Two days later, we heard our names called out again. This time we were all called at the same time instead of individually. We figured they wanted our group back together, but we didn’t know why. We were once again blindfolded, taken downstairs, and once we were all together we were given back our belongings. A guard came over, handed me my Bible, pointed to it and said “this right here is the reason you’re in here.” When we finally saw one another we looked unrecognizable, essentially like skeletons.

Then they broke us up into two groups. Mine had an Englishman, German, Swiss, Hindu, and a few Egyptians. The other group had Mr. Brotli and the others. They transferred both groups to a holding place for an official hearing at the court. Their other intent was to add some weight to our desperately malnourished bodies. We stayed here an additional 48 days eating nothing but all-you-can-eat meat. They would give us pans full to the brim with meat. We spent those days eating our body weight and we all returned to our original state.

Imprisoned with us was an Egyptian friend of my brother and an Indian man who renounced their faith and became atheists during this period of time. They couldn’t stand the situation and missed their families and wives. Their condition and presence amongst us was disheartening and really brought our spirits down. I am truly certain that the Lord personally dealt with me with a special care. I never doubted for a moment because in His abundant grace He flooded my spirit with peace, calmness, and rest. Otherwise, I could have very easily been swayed by these harsh circumstances and denied my God like these two men did.

We had some well known individuals in our group who were influential in their respective countries. One of those was an Englishman who had attended one of the home churches in a different city. He was heading a chemical petroleum project that was to be implemented by the United Kingdom for Iraq. This man asked the English ambassador to Iraq to bring him some supplies for a high-class birthday party with fancy food and drink for a young German man he was looking after. Brotli, who was in the other group, was another influential man and his country wanted him released. Because of the political uproar from multiple countries for these prisoners, the Iraqi officials were forced to let us out. They were also assured of the pure intention of the meetings and that our group was strictly religious with no political agenda.

In order to be released however, the process needed to abide by their law so we got ready to be judged for an official ruling. It turned out that official Iraqi churches were in big buildings and existed mainly for show and not for worship. True Christian believers attended the home churches which looked suspicious to the government. There were five home assembly locations: Baghdad, Basra, Kirkuk, and two others. This movement was throughout all of Iraq and every single attendee of those five meetings was arrested on the same day.

It had been six months since we were arrested. We then headed off to the Revolutionary Court for each of us to go through a trial and receive an official ruling by the judge. The weather was blistering hot, often reaching over 100°. I will never forget the few faithful Iraqi Christian sisters who knew of our whereabouts and got ahold of the place we were being transferred to and somehow found us on the way to the court. They were unfazed by the Iraqi security officials surrounding us. They were chasing after us holding cold bottled water and fighting their way to deliver it to us, knowing the dehydration we must have been suffering from.

We finally arrived at the court which was not a place where you brought your own lawyer to defend you. Not a chance. It was you against the state in a ready made show trial. The charges were made in advance so that they would completely abide by the law. Later, they had named our arrests as “forbidden religious gatherings.” Every one of us had to go up to the judge and receive his legal accusation. This one opened his home, this one attended for this long, and so on. Some people were sentenced to one year in prison, some two, and others were given up to five years. Since I had been in Iraq for only a month and hadn’t yet earned a paycheck, they knew I wasn’t a contributor to the meetings so I was sentenced to one year in prison. Once everyone received their sentence, we were all finally allowed to gather as a group. For the first time, we opened God’s Word together and prayed.

All the while, no one in Egypt knew of my situation in Iraq. They were completely unaware of my whereabouts for those first six months. When I arrived at the court, I managed to write a letter to my family in pencil and was able to sneak it to one of our visitors who sent it to Egypt on my behalf. I wrote to them of my rebirth and new relationship with Christ and briefly described my situation in prison.

After everyone received their sentence we were transferred to Abu Ghraib Prison. This is an internationally well known prison where Saddam Hussein had Iraqi dissidents tortured and executed. Shortly after we arrived, a few of the notable foreigners who had a higher standing in their country were summoned and released. For example, the Englishman from our group was visited personally in prison by the English ambassador. Also Mr. Brotli was visited by the president of the Norwegian Association for Women’s Rights. She was sent by the Norwegian government and met with Saddam personally to take him out of the country.

In Abu Ghraib, we were allowed to meet during the day but everyone had to return to their single cell at night. We were permitted to read books and I had my small Bible with me. This was the first time in my life that I had read it and I read it carefully and attentively. God knew I needed emotional, mental, financial, and physical care. God’s great provision for me at this time was to place me among this specific group of people. I quickly developed an intimate friendship with Dr. Sobhi (the one who gathered this group in his home) through whom I learned to regularly open my Bible and go through the baby steps of understanding what it says. One or two weeks before the arrest he had welcomed twin girls into the world. He had also just bought a new European car and earned a big raise from his job at the university. When he returned home one day the Iraqi police were there waiting to arrest him. They seized his car, his savings, and his valuables leaving nothing for his family. None of it was ever returned to him.

Despite all of this, he was a strong pillar in the faith. I clung to him and he would explain the Bible to me. This is where I deeply and truly understood God’s Word, inside this prison and under the guidance of this faithful man. He was good company and we had many wonderful times together. God’s grace was to use my time in prison for joyful fellowship where I was immensely blessed. It was still a prison and being in a prison is tough, but God granted us some heavenly memories. God also arranged for me to take care of Dr. Sobhi as he needed special care and was in an immensely poor medical state. He was very ill with kidney disease, gout, and leg issues from arthritis. His physical health declined quickly from all he had suffered during our ordeal so far. I considered this a sort of training where I learned to serve someone I didn’t know well. In the end, we both needed assistance. Emotionally for me and physically for him.

During this time I had no knowledge of the whereabouts of the bag I had brought with me from Egypt. I owned nothing but my Bible and the clothes I was wearing. But God arranged certain provisions for me: pajamas, a towel, and other basic needs. The news of our arrest had spread to many countries and God put it on the hearts of multitudes of saints worldwide to send enough money to meet all our needs. The Iraqi believers used the money to purchase material essentials and the sisters distributed them and ministered to us in prison. We were sent food, clothing, and other items. The brethren didn’t visit since our court case was serious and we were thought to have had a political agenda. Association with us could potentially lead one to prison, but these Iraqi sisters were unfazed by the seriousness of the situation. They visited us and cared for our needs the entire time we were in prison. They esteemed us better than themselves and even their own families. We received hardly any food in prison, but those sisters provided for each of us. I specifically remember each woman would come in carrying a giant plastic bag with half a dozen watermelons on their shoulders in the blistering hot Iraqi sun just to relieve our thirst.

By now my one year of imprisonment was almost up. I discussed this with Dr. Sobhi and asked him what he needed after I was gone. His family had moved to Egypt and he was facing his five year prison sentence alone. To my shock, he looked at me and said “Khalil, you’re not leaving this prison alone, we’re all leaving together.” Of course I didn’t understand what he meant, but he expressed how the Lord had revealed to him that every one of us would leave this prison together. I later understood this was a vision from God.

In July of 1979, Vice President Saddam Hussein forced his cousin President Ahmad Hasan al-Bakr out of power and assumed the presidency. Six days later he launched the Ba’ath Party Purge and arrested and executed many Iraqi leaders who opposed him to solidify his power. As Vice President, he put out the order of arrest for our group. But as President, his desire was to gain favor with the Iraqi people. He wanted to woo them so one of his first actions was to immediately release all prisoners who were not convicted of political crimes which is precisely what happened next.

The two groups were once again separately taken to another prison that was a holding place for deportation. However, another issue arose. In order to be deported we each had to pay for our own plane ticket. None of us had any money to buy a ticket, but once again the Lord in His mercy took care of the situation. Many believers, Iraqis and Europeans, stepped up and donated enough money to fully cover the cost of all our plane tickets. We weren’t allowed to travel as a group, so they scheduled three or four days between each of our releases. They would take us from the prison door directly to the door of the airplane in a windowless security car. Finally it was my turn to go. All I had was a small bag with the few items that were donated to me from believers during my imprisonment. I had been arrested Friday, October 27th 1978 and was at last released in mid October 1979. I had spent nearly a year in prison.

At this time EgyptAir was prohibited from entering Baghdad. My only option was Middle East Airlines that would fly me from Baghdad to Beirut, Lebanon and then on to Cairo, Egypt. We touched down in Beirut and little did I know of the gravity of the situation there with the Lebanese Civil War raging. There were sounds of artillery firing and gunshots all around. I was surrounded by utter chaos. I got off the plane and I thought to myself “I manage to escape an Iraqi prison and this is where I will die?” I found myself an empty corner for the layover which lasted two to three hours until my plane arrived. When the announcement was made that we could board I sprinted to get inside.

When I arrived in Cairo I had just enough money to buy a ticket for a public bus ride from the airport to the Ismailia bus station. My family had a rented bookstore that my father Farag wanted to empty out and give back to its owners. One of my brothers however prevented him from letting it go and claimed it was Khalil’s store and would await his return. He was persuaded and paid off one or two years of advance rent. He got into the habit of going to the store, waiting a few hours, and then returning home as if he was waiting for me day after day in case I showed up. The scenario with my family was now completely different. Previously, they could hardly wait to be rid of me but now they anticipated my return. They knew I had been changed, that I was a new man.

When I arrived in Ismailia around midday I headed to the bookstore and found my father waiting. He was sitting on a chair outside of the door and I walked over and stood in front of him. I physically looked entirely different. I said “Hi, Baba.” He said “Who?” “Khalil” “Who?” “I’m Khalil.” This exchange went on until he finally recognized me. He couldn’t believe his eyes. From there, all my family and friends in Ismailia found out and celebrations began as if I truly was the prodigal son of Luke 15:24 “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” Everyone who knew the pre-Iraq Khalil was shocked. I was an utterly different person. My outlook on life had changed. My tone and interactions were altered. I wasn’t the same ruthless individual whose every word was unbecoming. Now everyone was ecstatic about my return. Many wanted to sit with me and hear my story in detail. There were special celebrations at the assembly and multiple gatherings where I shared and re-shared my testimony.

The family bookstore was officially passed on to me. The Lord sent provisions so that I was able to restock and start running it. After a little while the family began discussing the next step for me in life, which was marriage. My father and stepmother had their hearts set on a certain woman from Ismailia, but there was an elderly laboring brother named Naim Abd el-Shahid, whose desire was to find suitable spouses for his Christian brothers and sisters. He was passing through my stepmother’s old house in Zagazig and happened to come across Ferial during his trip. He asked around about her and was told that she had just returned from a year long work trip in Al-Karak, Jordan and was visiting for a short while. Whenever Brother Naim was in Zagazig he had to continue on to Ismailia to see his very dear friend, my father whose marriage he had arranged many years before.

He arrived at our house in Ismailia and my family brought up their desire to find a wife for me. Brother Naim said “No, I’ve found Khalil’s bride.” He told us about the woman he just saw in Zagazig and that she was staying with my stepmother’s sister. My stepmother knew her well and instantly saw the compatibility. She couldn’t believe she didn’t think of Ferial herself. She quickly left everything and everyone behind, took a train, and headed straight to Zagazig to discuss this matter with her in person.

Ferial had known my family as well. She used to take youth trips to Ismailia and even once visited our home. All she’d known about me however, was that I was walking with the devil. When I was in prison she’d heard about the arrest and was asked, along with many others, to pray for me. As soon as she’d heard my stepmother’s proposal she instantly refused the thought of marrying an ex-prisoner. That wasn’t how she pictured the man of her dreams. But my stepmother didn’t give up. She discussed the situation with Ferial’s aunt, Nadya, who was her primary caretaker since her father passed away before she was born. Together they convinced Ferial to at least meet me and make a decision then.

My stepmother came back to Ismailia on a Saturday and arranged for me to take a trip to Zagazig the following day. Ferial and I met on the roof of the assembly that was in front of my aunt’s apartment and talked together for a bit. We then walked around town, and went to a gathering organized by my oldest brother and his wife. He asked me what I thought and I told him that this was it, she was the one. His wife, however, did not approve. She organized another gathering after the meeting, where I would make sure that Ferial was really the one. I was certain. Ferial’s mind was changed after she heard me pray an earnest and fervent prayer during the meeting. Shortly after the engagement arrangements were moving ahead, then marriage, and then our story together began.

Looking back at my life before prison, I remember specific situations where the devil could have very well gotten the best of me. The Lord undeniably rescued me from the depths of darkness. My father tried countless times to drag me to the meeting, but nothing could move me the few times I gave in and went. The Lord carried me through all the lows until He allowed me to head abroad to Iraq which was a country full of evil to continue on my path. I remember a specific street that wasn’t touched by the law, where anything went. As long as there wasn’t political opposition (you could be executed for accidentally stepping on an image of Saddam) all other acts were allowed and even easy to get into.

I can only imagine where I would have been if the Lord hadn’t drawn me to Himself the very next day after my brother left. I can only imagine what I would’ve done with a paycheck in hand. The Lord, in His grace, knew exactly what situation to use to change my hardened heart. My personality needed this refining experience to clearly see God’s hand at work and to turn my life around. This was a 180° kind of change that only a loving, merciful Father has the power to execute. My expectation in going to Iraq was to earn a lot of money, a better standing in life, fame, and nothing but material goals and dreams. What God did for me there was much more valuable than anything I could have imagined for my life. Praise God.

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Dear reader, you may be reading this testimony and thinking to yourself that your past could not possibly be forgiven. He [Jesus Christ] Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed.  1 Peter 2:24

Or you may think that you’re a good person and don’t need to be saved. For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.  Romans 3:23

Or you may be trying to do enough good works to outweigh the bad. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.  Ephesians 2:8-9

Or you may think you have a long life ahead and you’ll call for Jesus at a more convenient time. But concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only … Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.  Matthew 24:36 & 42

Or maybe you doubt Christianity is true since there’s so many other religions out there. There are enough early manuscripts to know the Bible we have today is accurate and that Jesus claimed to be God and performed miracles to prove it. Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.”  John 8:58

Finally you may think “there is no god.” I ask you is everything coming into existence out of nothing and without cause more reasonable to believe than that a spaceless, timeless, nonmaterial, all powerful being chose to create everything? For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God.  Hebrews 3:4

Whatever your reason for waiting may be, the time is now to give your life to Jesus and spend eternity with Him. We will all inevitably stand before God in a coming day, will you meet Him as your Savior or as the Judge? For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Romans 6:23