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\nThe deadbolt clicked loudly on the metal door. All curtains closed. Padlocks were next. Lights were turned low.<\/p>\n
\nThe deadbolt clicked loudly on the metal door. All curtains closed. Padlocks were next. Lights were turned low.<\/p>\n
In a fundamentalist Muslim city known for its high number of honor killings, you can never take too many precautions.<\/p>\n
Women in drab colored hijabs quickly entered from a side door.<\/p>\n
War wasn\u2019t on the way. Neither was a suspected terrorist attack. Just a women\u2019s weekly Bible study for former Muslims.<\/p>\n
\u201cI watched intently as one by one the women trickled in, gleefully greeting each other with enthusiastic hugs and cheek kisses. When they settled into their chairs Miriam, the leader asked them to introduce themselves to the smiling, eager Americans. When my turn came, I asked them if they felt comfortable removing their hijabs. We tried not to allow our jaws to drop as we saw their beauty unveiled before our eyes, their smiles widening as they were fully seen for who they were.\u201d<\/p>\n
JoAnn recounts, \u201cI asked them if we could hear their stories, for I knew each one had endured more than we could ever imagine. I listened to more firsthand accounts of Jesus\u2019 miracles in one place than I\u2019ve ever heard in my life! Jamilla went first, Miriam translating for us.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Death Sentence<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Jamilla\u2019s Story<\/em><\/p>\n My fate was announced. It was too late. I was set to die and there was nothing I could do about it. Even if I could move\u2026 it was no use.<\/p>\n My life was over, and I was going to depart this world from Deir ez-Zor, Syria like so many others in this miserable war.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t the Islamic State that read my death sentence.<\/p>\n It was Dr. Basil Hussein, one of the most respected neurologists in Syria who told my family the inevitable.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry to tell the Darwish family this news\u2026 But a blood vessel ruptured and Jamilla had a massive stroke. If she only could\u2019ve had her blood pressure medicine. I know medical supplies and prescriptions are scarce and too expensive for most people. But this was preventable. Maybe today it is not in preventable in Deir ez-Zor. I\u2019m sad to say.<\/p>\n \u201cJamilla is paralyzed on her right side and I just don\u2019t see how she can come out of this coma\u2026 Her vitals are very erratic. My best guess is she probably has a day or two.<\/p>\n \u201cUnless Allah intervenes, that is, \u2026 I apologize for saying this, it is time to plan her funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n But I heard Dr. Basil\u2019s words clearly.<\/p>\n My mother and sisters who were there at my bedside burst into tears.<\/p>\n I was unable to talk, unable to move. In my mind, I cried at my hopeless, helpless, situation.<\/p>\n I was alone. So alone.<\/p>\n But then I was not.<\/p>\n Suddenly, I was not alone, the room dazzled in brightness.<\/p>\n He came to me and stood at the foot of my bed. He smiled and called my name.<\/p>\n \u201cJamilla, I am here with you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n I could not imagine this in my wildest dreams, but Jesus was in my room. Even though I was a practicing Muslim I knew who Jesus was. He\u2019s spoken about in the Koran. I\u2019d also heard how Jesus was appearing to people in the Syrian War. I heard stories.<\/p>\n I remember thinking one day when life was so hard in my country, that I wished Jesus would come visit me. There was so much hate all around me. But Jesus was about love, so I had heard. Did we ever need some of that in Syria!<\/p>\n \u201cJamila, I know your longing for Me to visit you. I have heard your cries. Here I am!<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve come to heal you for My glory.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Was this really happening or was it the medication, or a just a crazy dream?<\/p>\n Jesus then touched me on my hand, my paralyzed hand, as heat instantly radiated through my body.<\/p>\n \u201cDr. Basil! Jamilla\u2019s hand just moved! Did you see it?\u201d<\/p>\n I could hear my mother yell and jump out of the chair she was in right next to my bed at the same time.<\/p>\n Dr. Basil came to stand over me with my family, looking for signs of movement. He was skeptical.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t see her move. Are you sure Mrs. Darwish? I don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n I could hear machines being checked for readings. Dr. Basil was in the middle of telling my family that the vitals were not showing anything that indicated any improvement, when I felt like reaching out to Jesus.<\/p>\n My right hand lifted up high in worship and Jesus smiled lovingly at me.<\/p>\n There were screams in the room and the thud on the floor as my mother passed out cold!<\/p>\n \u201cIs she trying to grab someone\u2019s hand?\u201d\u00a0 Dr. Basil yelled in the chaos.<\/p>\n I was! I so desperately wanted to touch Jesus. Like the woman with the issue of blood that touched the hem of His garment.<\/p>\n Jesus could have healed me instantly. He has the power to do that you know. But it\u2019s possible that my family might\u2019ve thought I just snapped out of the coma and Dr. Basil was just plain wrong on the paralysis diagnosis.<\/p>\n Over the next few days I was progressively healed. Each time it was because Jesus touched that area of my body.<\/p>\n My right leg was next. Jesus came in a vision in the morning and the paralysis was gone as soon as he touched my knee with just one finger.<\/p>\n The next day I had full range of motion with my neck and shoulders and my face functions worked except my eyes would not open and I still could not speak.<\/p>\n But then in the morning my eyes and my mouth opened while my whole family was there.<\/p>\n I looked straight up with my eyes staring towards the ceiling as Jesus began to depart the room.<\/p>\n The first words I heard my father say were Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar!<\/em><\/p>\n But my first words were \u201cJesus, Jesus, don\u2019t leave me! I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n Well I must say, that certainly quieted the room!<\/p>\n My family was shocked and not able to comprehend the words. They hung in the air.<\/p>\n Boom! Suddenly, we were interrupted by a massive explosion that shook Deir ez-Zor.<\/p>\n In my city, peace is short lived. Even after a great miracle like I experienced, reality set in.<\/p>\n Oil fields are in Deir ez-Zor on the ancient Euphrates River. In eastern Syria, there is no city that is more coveted by the international powers and people groups. Iran, Russia, and America are there. The large Conoco Oil facility is as well.<\/p>\n The Armenians were slaughtered in Deir ez-Zor in 1915 by the Turks to show that Islam \u201ctriumphed over Christianity.\u201d<\/p>\n The Islamic State had a strong presence in my city also to prove that they were the new \u201cchampions of the Muslim faith.\u201d Chaos, carnage, and confusion were normal in Deir ez-Zor.<\/p>\n After Jesus healed me, the war got worse and my family had to flee Syria. We could either go north to Turkey or south to Jordan.<\/p>\n The border in Northern Syria was too hard to get through with Turkey\u2019s battle against the Kurds, so we went south.<\/p>\n The streets in Jerash, Jordan didn\u2019t look much different from the streets in Deir ez-Zor. So many men were not working during the day. Refugees have nothing to do. But I had an assignment because I was on a mission.<\/p>\n I wanted to find Jesus. But how? Where could I go to ask questions about the man who healed me? Of course, I could not talk to anyone with my family present. They often talked about the healing in my life, but they gave the credit to Allah, not Jesus. I knew the truth.<\/p>\n One day in the outdoor market, I saw a woman who was wearing a cross necklace. In Deir ez-Zor, you could get killed for wearing one. But this was Jordan.<\/p>\n I started following her hoping I would have the courage to ask her a question. I had my chance as she was selecting cucumbers.<\/p>\n I must\u2019ve startled her in my burqa by asking the question I blurted out.<\/p>\n \u201cJesus healed me of paralysis when I was in a coma. Do you know how I can find out more information about Him? I\u2019m Muslim, so I think I have a lot to learn!<\/p>\n \u201cMarhaba, my name is Jamilla, what\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n Though I startled Maria, she gathered her thoughts and responded with such kindness to my attention getting, awkward question.\u201d<\/p>\n Did Jesus ever lead me to the right person! Maria was so warm and gracious, and we became good friends. Over tea the next couple of weeks I asked her every question I had about Jesus. Of course, I was convinced that Jesus had all power and was the Savior of the world, but I had to know what it would be like to become a believer in a radical Muslim family.<\/p>\n Maria told me that I was the one sent by God to reach my family.<\/p>\n After she said those words, I was ready. I gave my life to Jesus; it is the day I will never forget!<\/p>\n Maria was right! Over time, all of my family, including my father, came to faith in Christ. This is rare that a family who all practice fundamentalist Islam all <\/em>became believers. I am privileged and blessed beyond all that I could\u2019ve imagined. Jesus used the miracle of my healing to open the hearts of my family.<\/p>\n It was a long process, full of spiritual warfare, but all of them are in the family of God now. Can you imagine that? A Muslim family from Deir ez-Zor despite our sordid history, now loves Jesus!<\/p>\n But my family was there and saw the miracle of my healing. How could they deny it? And, how could they deny the transformation of my life? I used to be negative and caustic. Now I am filled with the love of God.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n JoAnn: \u201cAfter that incredible miracle, how could we go on? But there were more stories to hear. So, we worshipped Jesus, encouraged the group with reading special passages in Scripture, then all gathered around Jamilla and prayed for her. Lost in all of this is that she and her family are refugees in Jordan. After several years of Syrians streaming into the country, the refugees are now despised and rejected. But you would never know that by looking at Jamilla\u2019s joy-filled face.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHeba, would you share your story?\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Running to the Light<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Heba\u2019s Story<\/em><\/p>\n It all started with my tenderhearted son.<\/p>\n \u201cMommy, why is that building glowing? Can we go in and see?\u201d<\/p>\n My little Ali was just six years old and I didn\u2019t want to answer his question. Go near a church?\u00a0 No way!<\/p>\n The church was in the area we lived as refugees and on a main thoroughfare. I could not avoid going by it. Ali saw the bright light every single time we walked by the church. But I didn\u2019t. He would say it was glowing from the inside, and so beautiful. He continually begged me to let him go inside to see it up close.<\/p>\n \u201cAli, we are Muslims, that building is a Christian church, we don\u2019t ever go into a church. It\u2019s haram! I would not be caught dead in a church. Don\u2019t ask me again!\u201d I thought what my husband Hassan would think if he knew I was even having this conversation with his little pride and joy.<\/p>\n Ali meant everything to his father. As a fervent Sunni Muslim, his dream was for Ali to become a respected imam. My husband was a fanatic Muslim. That\u2019s why we had to flee Syria in the first place. He opposed the government and if we stayed, I would have surely been a widow.<\/p>\n At times, that didn\u2019t seem like such a bad thing. My husband was incredibly harsh and cruel to me more often than not.<\/p>\n But my objections about visiting the church with the light coming out of it did not stop my dear, sweet little son. His begging went on for a least a month.<\/p>\n One day we walked down the street and Ali abruptly let go of my hand. He started running. I knew where he was going. I couldn\u2019t catch him.<\/p>\n When I reached the front door of the church, the Christians were singing. I scanned the worshippers for Ali, but he had gone in, sat down, his tiny body blended in with the crowd. I couldn\u2019t find him.<\/p>\n After a few minutes, I stopped looking as the words of the music washed over me and drew my heart like moths to a flame. The sound was something from heaven. That is the only way I can describe it. My feet rooted at the door, my mouth gapping in shock.<\/p>\n Finally, a woman came over and said: \u201cPlease join me!\u201d<\/p>\n So, I did, and I sat there\u2026<\/p>\n I just sat there\u2026<\/p>\n After a few songs, I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder, it was Ali. What an ear to ear smile he had brightening his darling face. I hugged him and told him I was glad he ran into this place so filled with love.<\/p>\n I could\u2019ve stayed all day. But after about 30 minutes a pastor stood up and opened the Bible. I certainly wasn\u2019t ready to listen to that. With all I\u2019d been told about the Bible being corrupted and changed, I hesitated and got scared.<\/p>\n I scooped Ali under my arm and told him it was time to go. I thanked the nice lady who invited me to sit next to her. She kissed me on both cheeks, then we dashed out the door.<\/p>\n The singing I experienced that day moved me in my heart. It did something to me, it gave me a longing to know God and love him like these Christians did. The words echoed over and over again in my mind:<\/p>\n Jesus, Name above all Names, Beautiful Savior, Glorious Lord. Emmanuel, God is with us, Blessed Redeemer, Living Word.<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n On the way home from the church, Ali said: \u201c\u2018Um, I can\u2019t wait to tell baba all about the singing! I have not seen you smile so much al\u2019umu.\u201d<\/p>\n This was exactly the reason I didn\u2019t even want to peek into the building! If Ali even breathed a word of this to his father, I would pay a heavy price!<\/p>\n My mind was racing at the horror of what would happen to me and Ali if Hassan heard about our visit to the Jerash church.<\/p>\n \u201cAli, we\u2019ll tell baba later. But for now, let\u2019s keep it our special secret ok?\u201d<\/p>\n The next Sunday night, I could not stop thinking about how much I wanted to be at the church. Living in Jerash was a real problem since the church was right next to a mosque. What if I were spotted?<\/p>\n Ali and I went for a walk and we barely got out of our of apartment and he asked about going to the church. I thought what if I just went in for a couple of minutes this time. It was dark outside and the two of us could sneak in and then go on to the market just down the block and Hassan would never know.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2018Um, the light is so bright from the church tonight! You see it now, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n Ali said loudly, right as we were walking by the mosque!<\/p>\n \u201cHabibi, I do not see the light. I wish I did see what you see but maybe God has given you special eyes to see this\u2026 well\u2026 miracle. This must be supernatural!<\/p>\n \u201cAli, we\u2019re going to slip in and out quietly, but you must keep our special secret. We can\u2019t tell baba about this. Promise?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI promise \u2018um! I don\u2019t think baba is ready for a church visit. I think he might get angry.\u201d<\/p>\n Ali\u2019s response caught me off guard. Did he understand more than I thought he did?<\/p>\n He went on and explained.<\/p>\n \u201cI heard baba talking about Christians and he said he hates them.\u00a0 He was with some men and they were saying all the problems in the Middle East are because of Christians. Is that true \u2018um? Because the people in the shiny building seemed nicer than the people in the mosque!<\/p>\n In the church nobody was cranky or angry. Did you notice that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ali I did notice that. They were all smiling, weren\u2019t they? But we must be careful when talking about this. Shhh!!!\u201d<\/p>\n I was sad that they weren\u2019t singing when we walked in. But a man named Osama was speaking from the Isaiah book and the John book. I did not know that there were many books in the Christian Holy Scriptures. Within a few minutes, all the things I\u2019d been told about the Bible faded away. The words that Osama spoke were like nothing I\u2019d ever heard before. I felt my heart melt like honey, the expression on my face must have been noticeable to others around me.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n JoAnn: \u201cHeba was still telling her story when Pastor Osama actually walked into the room from his office and joined the conversation. I wondered if the women would quickly wind their hijabs around their heads, hiding themselves from this man. But they didn\u2019t. Interestingly enough, they all smiled and welcomed Osama into the circle.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Osama continued the telling of Heba\u2019s story, reminiscing of the day several years before. \u201cOut of the corner of my eye, I saw Heba enter the service. My wife raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward the door when you walked in Heba. I got her signal! You were not hard to notice in your black abaya and tightly wound hijab. I immediately shifted from my sermon in the book of Revelation to a Gospel presentation. I sensed you and your son truly wanted to be there. I remember seeing you sit on the edge of your seat. Ali was looking right at me listening intently.\u201d<\/p>\n He has come to bring good news to the poor. He has come to bind up the brokenhearted. He has come to set the captives free. He has come to comfort all who mourn. He has come to give you a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning. He has come to give you a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. He has come to set you free. <\/em><\/p>\n He has come to give you life! Come to Jesus and everything will change! You will start your life over and be born again\u2026<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n \u201cFor 30 minutes I preached to you, Heba, and little Ali. Everyone else there were already believers. I can still see you shaking your head in agreement with everything I said. There was a sense of excitement in the auditorium because here among us sat this veiled woman who was obviously close to salvation. We could see on your face the Word of God was deeply touching you, drawing your heart to His.<\/p>\n \u201cPeople often say that Muslims need to hear the Gospel several times before they are ready to receive Christ. How can we say that? For God\u2019s Word is divinely powerful. It\u2019s living, active and able to pierce the soul! Just the very Name of Jesus can unlock someone\u2019s heart. I had been a Muslim myself, but the first time I heard the Bible preached, I knew it was the Truth. The Spirit of God convinced me.<\/p>\n \u201cThen I closed the message.\u201d<\/p>\n Let\u2019s pray, but before we do; are there any of you who feel like you\u2019re held captive as Isaiah described. Do you want to be set free? Jesus wants to forgive your sins. Settle all of this with Jesus tonight at the Cross. Who wants forgiveness and freedom?<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n \u201c\u2018I do!\u2019 Heba said audibly, shocked she spoke aloud.<\/p>\n \u201cThen do you remember what happened next Heba?\u201d Pastor Osama smiled as he recalled.<\/p>\n \u201cDo I? I\u2019ll never forget! First of all, I could not believe that I answered out loud. Did those words come out of my mouth?<\/p>\n \u201cThen the quiet reflective moment was shattered by the loudspeaker and the Muslim call to prayer!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid they have spies in the church tipping them off when the prayer of salvation started? This was not a coincidence. Tonight, the mussein was over the top loud! I started to get concerned. Had they discovered that two Muslims were in the church?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut that did not stop the Spirit of God.\u201d Heba said with glee. \u201cNor my longing to receive Jesus! And I did that night.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Heba\u2019s story continues<\/em><\/p>\n I knew my fundamentalist husband would eventually find out about my new life in Christ. I was convinced I could hide it from him. So, when the call to prayer came each day, I would get down and pray, but to Jesus not Allah. I am ashamed that I did this for at least a month.<\/p>\n One day at Bible Study, Miriam read us the verse from Paul that says: I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ. <\/em><\/p>\n I cried as my heart was pierced with shame. Was I afraid of my husband or was I ashamed of the gospel? Or both? For I wasn\u2019t being truthful with Hassan. I was faking it like I was still Muslim. What would Jesus think? I let Him down! What about my son Ali? That was a terrible example.<\/p>\n The next time the call to prayer came I refused to bow down. Hassan yelled at me. But I stood strong in spite of the beatings. I recall the one time little Ali tried to defend me. That was a mistake never to be repeated, for Hassan turned his wrath on tiny Ali. I shudder when I think of how bruised and puffy his face was where his own father punched him. It\u2019s by the grace of God his cheek and nose were not broken.<\/p>\n My sisters in Christ were a gift from God to me in those early days when the beatings came 5 times every day with each call to prayer. They consoled me when I would arrive with black and blue marks. We stood together because they were in difficult, life-threatening situations too. Hassan\u2019s beatings continued, but no longer with every call of the muezzin.<\/p>\n Dalia is married to an imam and she survived. The threats and beatings she received were horrible. But she never lost her joy.<\/p>\n Rima\u2019s own son took the house that belonged to her family and threw her out in the cold, yet she too remained faithful to Jesus, trusting Him to provide.<\/p>\n This was a test of my faith. Was Jesus going to protect me or not?<\/p>\n The bond we had as sisters in Jesus was stronger than anything, I had experienced. We prayed together, studied the Holy Scriptures, and shared our deepest fears and struggles with one another. We also held each other accountable to live as Christ Jesus and follow His teachings. James taught us to be women who are doers of the Word, not merely hearers of the Word. It is hard to live out your faith in Jesus Christ in a Muslim home, but not impossible in the strength of the Lord.<\/p>\n Some of my friends were able to hide their Bibles in their homes enabling them to read the precious Words of Life when the coast was clear of their abusive husbands or the watching eyes of their sons or other male relatives. But for a few of us, having a Bible in our possession was not an option. My home consisted of one room that served as both living room and sleeping room, with one of the walls making up our cooking area. There wasn\u2019t a safe place to hide anything of value, especially a sacred and treasured possession, albeit a forbidden copy of the Bible.<\/p>\n This drove me to memorize as many passages and verses of the Bible as I possibly could. It was my mission. If I could not hide God\u2019s Word in my home, I would hide it in my heart! What a gift it was, for I could carry it with me everywhere I went, sharing the truth of Jesus to anyone in need. It was if the Holy Spirit birthed in me a supernatural ability to memorize. I could easily remember whole chapters of the Bible without much effort. Memorizing the Word of God became more important to me than the food I ate. My second passion was teaching God\u2019s word to Ali. He was like a sponge soaking up all he was learning of Jesus. He too could quote many Bible verses at appropriate times to encourage others. My greatest prayer is for Hassan to come to know Jesus as Savior.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Exhortations from JoAnn <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Each of the women finished sharing their remarkable stories, all with passionate pleas for prayer.<\/p>\n There were huge requests with life and death consequences. Literally! The city they reside in is known for the vast number of honor killings preformed. The government turns a blind eye, seeing these brutal murders as a religious right. How could I, a believer from America, a free country, encourage these dear sisters in the faith? What could I say to renew their hope?<\/p>\n With my cheeks wet with tears, I told my sisters that I would never forget them, nor their life stories. I promised I would take them in my heart and share their journey\u2019s in Christ with others, giving them a voice in places they would physically never visit. In so doing, countless followers of Jesus would join me in praying for them. The ripple effect of prayer would grow and expand until each one of their prayers were answered in astounding ways. For nothing is impossible with God.<\/p>\n In the meantime, I shared a verse the Lord used in my life to sustain me, time and again while waiting for His answers.<\/p>\n Micah 7:6-8 are beautiful verses full of hope God\u2019s intends especially for you rest on.<\/p>\n \u201cFor a son dishonors his father, and a daughter rises up against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law \u2014 a man\u2019s enemies are the members of his own household<\/em>. But as for me, I <\/em>watch<\/strong> in hope for the LORD, I <\/em>wait<\/strong> for God my Savior; my God will hear me. Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light.\u201d<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n Though coming to faith in Jesus is not dishonoring to your Muslim family members in God\u2019s eyes, it feels as it is to them before they come to believe in Jesus as Savior. In turn, because of your new birthed faith, your family sees you as the enemy. Thus, you suffer much at their hands; abuse, verbally and physically, persecution, and possibly even death.<\/p>\n He hears every single prayer you pray!<\/p>\n Every time you cry out to Him, He\u2019s listening.<\/p>\n Every. Single. Time!<\/p>\n What a beautiful promise from the Word of God.<\/p>\n The question is, how do we \u201cwatch\u201d and \u201cwait\u201d for God to answer our prayers at the same time?<\/p>\n I call Micah 7:7 the rocking chair verse.<\/p>\n Picture yourself sitting in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as you talk to the Father about the concerns of your heart. You rock forward, gazing right to left, asking yourself and the Lord, \u201cIs this day of Your answer?\u201d Watching for His divine provision. You don\u2019t see the answer coming, so you rock back, waiting for His perfect timing, your hope firmly established on His promise that He hears you. You continue rocking forward and backward, hope continually renewed in His Presence, as you watch expectantly for His answer, then rest again in waiting while He works. One day, as you watch in hope, Jesus will fulfill the desire of your heart in ways that your mind cannot conceive. (1Cor 2:9) For His ways are higher. (Isaiah 55:8-9) His love intimate as He gives good gifts to His children. (Matt 7:11)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Two hours of scripture and stories flew by. Then we prayed. Did we ever pray! Heaven seemed closer and the presence of the Lord stunned us into silence, and then into praise. It was an hour of the intense prayer I will never recover from.<\/p>\n After long, tender hugs, there was only one thing left to do\u2026<\/p>\n The hijabs went back on. The bolted door was opened. And the women of God walked outside into a fanatical fundamentalist Islamic city to spread the Good News of Jesus. A few of them looked back and smiled.<\/p>\n They had unshakeable faith in Christ. They had boldness. They had a slew of answered prayers. They had the Holy Spirit all over them. They had joy. They had each other.<\/p>\n And they were sent by Jesus on a mission that was extreme, unwavering, high risk \u2026 because every soul matters. <\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Takeaway from the Underground Women\u2019s Prayer Meeting<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n So, what happens when women pray? Heaven and earth are moved in response!<\/p>\n The same thing happens when men pray \u2013 He answers our prayers. Matthew 7:7-11 promises us so.<\/p>\n Every. Single. Time!<\/p>\n Will you, dear reader, pause right now and pray for the women whose stories you\u2019ve just read. He knows every one of their needs and desires. Will you join the chorus of prayer for your beloved sisters-in-Christ? Just think, you\u2019ll meet all of them in heaven one day, and spend eternity together, where you can hear the rest of their stories.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n PR<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n This excerpt is from Tom and JoAnn Doyle with Greg Webster, Women Who Risk: Secret Agents For Jesus In The Muslim World<\/a> <\/em>(W Publishing Group, 2021). \u201cHopeless\u2500Then Jesus Arrived,\u201d has been adapted for online publication. Used with permission.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n <\/p>\n Further Reading:<\/strong><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/TJDoyle-WomenWhoRisk.jpg\")
<\/a>Picture yourself sitting in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as you talk to the Father about the concerns of your heart. You rock forward, gazing right to left, asking yourself and the Lord, \u201cIs this day of Your answer?\u201d<\/em><\/strong><\/div>\u201cBut,\u201d Scripture says in verse 7, there is more! In spite of the horrific circumstances you face, you have hope, for God hears you!<\/p>\nWill you join the chorus of prayer for your beloved sisters-in-Christ?<\/em><\/strong><\/div>But, women, by nature often seem to have an endurance in prayer<\/em> that far outdoes what men normally have. They get a lot of practice in \u201cpraying with patience\u201d during pregnancy. They also seem to have a holy boldness. <\/em>The woman with the issue of blood, whose story is in Luke 8, is a classic example.<\/p>\n