The One to Whom I Belong

We were supposed to meet that morning. Shahla was often late, so I sat waiting in the cafe.

But when I saw her driving by in a frenzy, passing cars recklessly, I picked up my phone and called her.

“Shahla, what’s going on? Are you alright? I just saw you driving away.” I felt frustrated that she had stood me up

“I just need to take care of some things,” she replied impatiently. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I’d been meeting with Shahla for some time. She was growing in her trust in Christ as we studied the Bible and prayed together. She’d become a believer and been baptized after having a series of dreams about Jesus. But her husband was still a Muslim, and Shahla lived in fear that he would find out about her faith. She could lose her marriage, her children, and her home.

Shahla was devastated when she found out. She felt afraid, unseen, and inadequate.

After Shahla hung up, I asked God what I should do. I could head home and take advantage of some unexpected free time. But something compelled me to follow my friend. As I got into my car outside the cafe, I called a teammate and asked her to pray while I went to Shahla’s home.

Standing outside her apartment, I knocked on the door. No one responded, but I could hear her husband’s voice inside.

He’d recently had an affair, Shahla had told me the week before.

Many local women accepted their spouse’s extramarital affairs as normal. If a woman’s husband wasn’t having an affair, they said, it just meant she hadn’t found out about it yet.

As for Shahla, she was devastated when she found out. She felt afraid, unseen, and inadequate.

I knocked again. Shahla opened the door. “Hi, Amy,” she said, appearing annoyed at my interruption. “My husband is at home.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I just have something I needed to give you really quickly.”

I wondered if my brief intrusion into their lives had been a waste of everyone’s time.

I stepped forward and wrapped her in a big hug. She began weeping in my arms. “Oh Amy,” she whispered between sobs. “You pursued me.”

“Of course, Shahla, that’s what God does for us. He loves you. You’re never alone.”

Shahla continued sobbing in my arms. After several minutes she composed herself and asked if I wanted to meet her husband briefly. I went in and greeted her husband, telling him I was happy to meet him. He extended his arm, and we shook hands.

As I left, I wondered if my brief intrusion into their lives had been a waste of everyone’s time. At home, I sat down to pray for their marriage, for open communication, and for their entire family’s salvation.

Then my phone rang. It was Shahla.

“Amy, thank you for coming today,” she said tearfully. “It was a miracle, an absolute miracle. It was the most meaningful thing that’s ever happened in my life.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What was so miraculous?”

“We were fighting and trying to resolve some things. I knew I needed to talk to him, but I couldn’t let go of my hurt and anger. And then you came. It was like your visit helped me remember Who I belong to, and it filled me with peace. We were able to resolve what we were fighting about.”

God loves us so much, and in that moment, He allowed me to demonstrate His love for Shahla. Time and time again, He pursues us in our heartaches and in our struggles.

• Please pray for Shahla’s marriage to be restored, and pray that her husband embraces faith in Jesus Christ.
• Pray for Muslim women to know Who they belong to and that they are loved, seen, and honored by God, our Father.
• Ask the Lord to fill Frontiers workers with the boldness to demonstrate His extravagant, pursuing love for Muslims.