It wasn’t a river or a baptismal pool in a church.

It was simple and humble, but it was sacred.

Carlos baptized me.

As he lowered me under the water, I thought about dying to my old life.

When he raised me up, I thought about resurrection, about new life in Christ.

My brothers and sisters gathered around sang softly, praising God.

And I wept, overcome with joy and gratitude.

This was my public declaration of faith.

Not in a mosque or in front of my old community, but here among these believers who had become my family.

After my baptism, I felt a new freedom.

I had taken the step I had been afraid to take for so long.

I had publicly identified with Christ.

And the world hadn’t ended.

In fact, I felt more alive than I ever had.

One evening about 6 months after the fire, we were having a Bible study in Carlos’s room.

We were reading from Romans chapter 8.

Someone read aloud, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord”.

As I heard those words, I felt something settle in my spirit.

Nothing could separate me from God’s love.

Not fire, not persecution, not loss, not even death.

The men who had tried to kill me thought they could separate me from Jesus by burning me alive.

But they couldn’t.

Even in the fire, he was with me.

My family had separated themselves from me because of my faith.

But God’s love remained.

I had lost everything I thought defined me.

But I had gained something far more valuable.

I looked around at the faces of my brothers and sisters gathered in that small room.

We came from different countries, spoke different languages as our first tongue, had different backgrounds, but we were one in Christ.

This was the church.

This was what Jesus had died to create.

This was the family that would last forever.

I realized that God had not just saved me from the fire.

He had saved me for this.

To be part of his family, to know his love, to share his gospel.

And I understood that my story wasn’t over.

It was just beginning.

The burns on my body were healed enough that I could show them to people.

The scars remained deep and visible.

But instead of being ashamed of them, I began to see them as a testimony.

These scars were proof of what had happened to me.

Proof that I had been set on fire for my faith.

Proof that Jesus had saved me when I should have died.

Every time someone asked about my scars, I had an opportunity to tell them about Jesus, to explain what he had done for me, to share the gospel.

I began to understand that God had allowed me to survive, not just for my own sake, but so I could tell others what he had done.

Maria told me one day that the best way to overcome trauma is to find meaning in it, to transform suffering into purpose.

My suffering had meaning.

It wasn’t meaningless pain.

It was a testimony to God’s faithfulness.

It was proof that he saves those who call on him.

It was evidence that following Jesus is worth any cost.

I started to feel a growing conviction that I needed to tell my story more widely, not just to the small group of believers I worshiped with, but to the world.

I knew it would be dangerous.

I knew that speaking openly about my conversion and persecution would put me at even more risk.

But I also knew that there were others out there like me.

Secret believers in Saudi Arabia and across the Muslim world living in fear, hiding their faith, wondering if anyone else understood what they were going through.

I wanted them to know they weren’t alone.

I wanted them to know that Jesus is real, that he saves, that he is worth following, even when it costs everything.

I also wanted Christians in the free world to know what their brothers and sisters in restricted countries are facing.

To know that persecution isn’t ancient history, it’s happening right now.

to know that people are dying for their faith even today.

And I wanted non-Christians, especially Muslims, to hear my story.

Not to mock Islam or to be disrespectful, but to share what I had found in Jesus.

To explain why I believed he was worth losing everything for.

This growing conviction became a calling.

I felt God asking me to step out of safety and into purpose, to use my story to glorify him and to help others.

It terrified me, but it also excited me.

I was alive for a reason, and that reason was becoming clear.

I needed to tell the world what Jesus had done for me.

I needed to testify to his faithfulness.

I needed to be a voice for those who couldn’t speak.

My life would never be normal again.

My family was gone.

My old life was gone.

My safety was always at risk.

But I had a purpose.

I had a mission.

I had been through the fire and Jesus had brought me through it.

Now I would spend the rest of my life telling people why.

The scars on my body would fade over time, but they would never completely disappear.

And I was glad.

They were reminders of what God had done.

They were marks of his faithfulness.

Every morning when I woke up and saw those scars, I remembered.

I should be dead, but I’m alive.

And that’s a miracle.

A miracle that I would spend the rest of my life sharing with anyone who would listen.

I’m telling you this story today because it needs to be told, not for my glory.

I’m not a hero.

I’m just a man who found truth and was willing to lose everything to keep it.

A man who was terrified when they set me on fire.

Who screamed in agony.

Who didn’t face death with courage but with fear.

But Jesus saved me anyway.

And that’s the point.

This isn’t my story.

It’s his story.

It’s about what he did, not what I did.

And I’m telling it because there are people who need to hear it.

To those who are being persecuted for your faith right now, wherever you are in the world, I want you to know something.

You are not alone.

I know what it’s like to be afraid every single day.

I know what it’s like to hide your faith, to pretend to be something you’re not, to live in constant fear of discovery.

I know what it’s like to lose your family because of Jesus.

I know the pain of being rejected by the people you love most.

I know what it feels like when your own father says you’re no longer his son.

I know what it’s like to face violence for your faith.

I know what fire feels like.

I know what it’s like to think you’re going to die.

And I want to tell you, Jesus is with you.

He was with me in the fire.

Not figuratively, actually with me.

I felt his presence.

I heard his voice.

He held me when the flames were consuming me.

And he’s with you now in whatever fire you’re facing.

Whether it’s physical persecution or emotional rejection or the daily struggle of hiding your faith, he’s there.

Your suffering matters.

It’s not meaningless.

It’s not in vain.

God sees every tear.

He knows every fear.

He understands every loss.

And one day, one day, it will all make sense.

One day, you’ll understand why he allowed what he allowed.

One day, you’ll see how he was working even in the darkest moments.

But even if that day doesn’t come in this life, even if you never understand why, I can tell you this.

He is worth it.

Jesus is worth every cost.

Worth every sacrifice, worth every loss because he is truth and he is life and he is love.

Don’t give up.

Don’t let fear make you deny him.

Hold on.

He’s holding you.

To the secret believers in Muslim countries hiding your faith because discovery means death.

I see you.

I was you for almost a year.

I lived that double life.

I know the exhaustion of it.

I know the guilt and the fear and the loneliness.

I know how it feels to teach Islam while believing in Jesus.

I know how it feels to bow in prayer at the mosque while your heart is crying out to a different God.

I know how it feels to deny Jesus with your words even while your heart is clinging to him.

And I want to tell you, I understand.

I understand the impossible position you’re in.

I understand that you can’t just confess your faith and face the consequences.

You have families who depend on you.

You have children to protect.

You have parents who would be destroyed if they knew.

I’m not going to tell you to go announce your faith tomorrow and prepare to die.

That’s not my place.

Only God can tell you when the time is right.

But I am going to tell you this.

You can’t live that double life forever.

Eventually, you’ll have to choose.

Either you’ll have to deny Jesus and return fully to Islam or you’ll have to confess him and accept the consequences.

And when that day comes, when you have to choose, choose Jesus.

Yes, it will cost you everything.

Yes, you’ll lose people you love.

Yes, you might face violence or death.

I won’t lie to you about that.

But I’ll also tell you that he’s worth it and that he will be with you no matter what happens.

In the meantime, be wise, be careful, protect yourself and your family, but don’t deny him in your heart.

Keep reading the Bible, keep praying, keep seeking fellowship however you can, even if it’s just online with other believers you’ll never meet.

and trust that God has a plan.

He brought you to faith for a reason.

He’ll make a way for you when the time is right.

Just don’t give up on him.

Because he’ll never give up on you.

Do Christians in free countries who can worship openly without fear, who’ve never faced persecution for your faith, I have a message for you, too.

Wake up.

Wake up to what’s happening to your brothers and sisters around the world.

We are being persecuted.

We are being imprisoned.

We are being killed right now.

Today, while you’re sitting in comfortable churches, singing worship songs without fear.

We’re hiding in secret rooms, whispering our prayers, afraid of being discovered.

While you’re debating theological fine points and church programs, we’re facing actual life and death decisions about our faith.

While you’re complaining that someone was rude to you for being a Christian, we’re being tortured and murdered.

I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty.

I’m saying it because you need to know.

You need to know what’s happening.

You need to know that persecution isn’t ancient history.

It’s happening now and you need to do something about it.

Pray for us.

Please pray for us.

Pray for believers in Saudi Arabia and Iran and Pakistan and North Korea and Somalia and every other place where following Jesus can get you killed.

Pray for those of us who have been separated from our families.

Pray for those who are in prison.

Pray for those who are being tortured.

Pray for those who are about to die.

Your prayers matter.

They really do.

I felt them even when I didn’t know who was praying.

I felt the prayers of believers around the world holding me up.

But don’t just pray.

Advocate.

Speak up.

Use whatever influence you have, whatever platform you have to tell the world what’s happening to Christians in restricted countries.

When your government has opportunities to help persecuted believers, push them to do so.

When organizations are working to help us, support them.

When refugees from our countries come to yours, welcome them.

and support missions and ministries that are working in the hardest places.

Support the underground church.

Support the translation work that gets Bibles into restricted countries.

Support the radio and internet ministries that reach into closed nations.

Your freedom comes with responsibility.

You have the ability to help us.

Please use it.

And one more thing, don’t take your freedom for granted.

I had everything I thought made life worth living.

And I lost it all for Jesus.

You have freedom to worship, freedom to gather, freedom to speak about your faith, and sometimes you don’t even use it.

You have Bibles in your language, as many as you want, and you don’t read them.

You have churches on every corner and you don’t attend them.

You have the freedom to share the gospel and you stay silent.

Please don’t waste what you have.

Don’t waste your freedom.

Use it.

Use it to worship Jesus boldly.

Use it to grow in your faith.

Use it to tell others about him because you don’t know how long you’ll have it.

Freedom can disappear faster than you think.

And ask yourself, if persecution came to your country tomorrow, if being a Christian became dangerous where you live, would your faith survive?

Would you be willing to lose everything for Jesus?

I’m not trying to judge you.

I’m asking you to examine your heart because one day you might have to answer that question for real to Muslims who are searching for truth, who have questions about Islam, who feel that emptiness I felt.

I want to speak to you with respect and love.

I was where you are.

I was a devoted Muslim.

I believed in Allah with all my heart.

I followed every rule.

I did everything I was supposed to do.

And I was empty inside.

I don’t say this to mock Islam or to disrespect you.

I say it because it’s true.

And maybe you feel it, too.

Maybe you’ve been praying five times a day and fasting during Ramadan and reading the Quran and you still feel like there’s something missing.

Maybe you’ve been trying to earn Allah’s favor and you’re exhausted from the effort.

Maybe you have questions you’re afraid to ask.

Questions about things in the Quran or the Hadith that trouble you.

Questions about whether Allah really loves you.

Questions about whether you’re doing enough to get to paradise.

I had those questions and I was terrified of them because I thought having questions meant I was weak in faith.

But now I understand questions are not weakness.

Questions are the beginning of finding truth.

I want to tell you about Jesus.

Not to force you to believe, not to trick you or deceive you, just to share what I found.

Jesus claimed to be God in human form.

He said he was the way to God.

Not just a way, but the only way.

He said he came to give eternal life to everyone who believes in him.

And then he proved it by dying on a cross for our sins and rising from the dead three days later.

I know Islam teaches something different.

I know you’ve been told that Jesus was just a prophet, that he didn’t really die, that Christians are mistaken.

But I’m asking you to investigate for yourself.

Read the Gospels.

Read what Jesus actually said and did.

Don’t just accept what you’ve been told about Christianity.

Look at the evidence yourself.

I did, and I found that Jesus was telling the truth.

I found that salvation is not something you earn by being good enough.

It’s a gift.

Jesus paid the price for our sins.

And all we have to do is accept that gift by believing in him.

I found that God is not distant and unknowable.

He is a father who loves his children.

He wants a relationship with you, not just your obedience.

I found peace.

I found forgiveness.

I found love.

I found everything I had been searching for my whole life.

Yes, it cost me everything.

I lost my family.

I lost my position.

I was set on fire and left to die.

But I gained Jesus.

And he is worth more than everything I lost.

I’m not asking you to make the decision I made right now.

I’m just asking you to be open, to ask the questions, to search for truth, even if it leads somewhere you didn’t expect.

God will reveal himself to those who genuinely seek him.

If you ask him to show you the truth, he will.

Just be ready for the answer.

Because when you find truth, you’ll have to decide what to do with it.

And that decision will change your life.

To those who don’t believe in God at all, who think all of this is superstition or delusion, I want to say something to you, too.

I understand your skepticism.

I really do.

This story sounds incredible.

A man set on fire who survives because God miraculously put out the flames.

It sounds like something from a movie or a fantasy novel.

If someone had told me this story before it happened to me, I might have been skeptical, too.

But it happened.

It really happened.

And I have the scars to prove it.

The doctors who treated me couldn’t explain how I survived.

The burns were severe, thirdderee in places.

I should have died from shock or infection, even if the fire hadn’t killed me outright.

But I didn’t die.

I’m here.

I’m alive.

And there’s no natural explanation for that.

I’m not asking you to just believe me because I say so.

I’m asking you to consider the evidence.

Consider that I had everything to lose and nothing to gain by converting to Christianity.

I lost my family, my position, my safety, my comfort.

What would motivate me to make that choice unless I believed it was true?

Consider that I was willing to burn alive rather than deny Jesus.

People don’t die for things they know are lies.

They might die for things they mistakenly believe are true, but not for deliberate lies.

Consider that there are thousands of people like me in countries all over the world who are risking everything for Jesus, who are being imprisoned, tortured, killed.

Why would they do that for a fairy tale?

Consider that Christianity has survived 2,000 years of persecution.

Empires have tried to stamp it out.

Governments have tried to eliminate it.

And yet it keeps growing, especially in the places where it’s most persecuted.

There’s something real here, something that can’t be explained away by psychology or sociology or wishful thinking.

I found Jesus and he changed everything.

He’s more real to me than anything else in my life.

You don’t have to believe me, but I’m asking you to at least consider it.

Consider that maybe, just maybe, there’s a God who loves you, who made you, who wants to know you, and consider what you’ll do if it’s true.

To everyone listening, regardless of who you are or what you believe, I want to tell you what I learned from all of this.

I learned that faith costs something.

Real faith always costs something.

It’s easy to believe when belief is convenient.

The test comes when belief becomes costly.

I learned that Jesus is faithful even when we’re not.

I denied him for months, living a double life, teaching Islam while believing in him.

And he never left me.

He was patient with me.

He waited for me to find courage.

I learned that God’s love is not something we earn.

It’s something we receive.

All my life in Islam, I tried to earn Allah’s favor by being good enough.

I was exhausted by the effort and never sure if I had done enough.

But Jesus love is a gift freely given to those who believe in him.

I learned that suffering has purpose.

I don’t understand all of it.

I don’t know why God allowed me to go through what I went through.

But I know it wasn’t meaningless.

My suffering has become my testimony.

My scars have become my platform to share the gospel.

I learned that we are not alone.

Even in the darkest moments, even in the fire itself.

Jesus was with me and he’s with every believer who is suffering.

We are never abandoned.

I learned that the church is a family that transcends every human boundary.

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