Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Pen and Paper (07/17/14)
- TITLE: The Moment of Truth
By Trudy Newell
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The four men pushed me toward the chair.
“Sit!” a gruff voice commanded. “Sarah, now you will write your confession.” The moment of truth had come.
What did they want me to confess? That I met with some Arab believers; read the Bible and prayed; that I shared how Jesus Christ changed my life?
The four men walked out of the room and locked the door. I was left alone. I knew they’d be back soon enough wanting names and information about Muslims who became Christians. No way was I going to betray my Christian friends.
I wondered if my own brother, Musa, turned me in. I was forced to leave home once it was clear that I was determined to follow the Lord Jesus Christ. Very hard for me as a teenage girl living in Egypt.
At first family treated me sweetly, and tried to marry me off to a “good Muslim boy. “Sure,” I thought. I could only shake my head in disbelief as the image of the 45 year old bearded mullah surfaced.
Finally the pastor who led me to the Lord talked to dad and mom. He shared how I had found forgiveness of sins through Christ. As he explained what had happened, God intervened. They relented, but I would have to leave home.
“Sarah,” they said, “what can we say. We must act like we’ve disowned you. We’ll pretend you fled on your own. We do love you, and understand that nothing will change your mind. We don’t want to see you killed.”
However, Musa was never very happy about the outcome. How dare Sarah turn from Islam! He wanted true Islamic justice. He wanted to make an example out of me.
But God provided. I found a job as an office assistant and lived with my aunt and uncle. God is so good. They loved me, and were not concerned about spiritual issues. People get lost in the city of Cairo, and they didn’t feel it was a threat to have me in their home.
Now to figure out what to write. I trembled as I picked up the pen and began writing, “I believe Jesus Christ…”
I sat up in a sweat. My heart pounded as I took a deep breathe, realizing it was only a nightmare. The clock on the bedside table flashed 2:45. I stretched and wondered, “What would I have written?”
I considered getting up and making a cup of tea. No one else was awake, and I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I lie there praying. Suddenly the front door banged, jarring me to full attention. At this hour in the morning, I knew who was at the door. At least my aunt and uncle were safe. I knew they wanted me. Now what? Yes, there would be pen and paper, and the command to write my confession. What would I write? Truly, the moment of truth had come.
I took another deep breathe, clasped my shaking hands together and prayed, “Precious Lord, take my hand.”
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