Page 62 of Rescuing You

“It isn’t exactly like it’s portrayed in the movies.”

“I suppose not. This family was very wealthy. Her father worked in the oil industry. Jasmine and I went often to their house to play with her. When we were there, her parents talked about Jesus. I don’t think they were trying to convert us, though maybe they were. But they talked about Jesus like He was somebody they knew they could depend on. I remember the first time I heard such conversation, I thought they were talking about a regular person. I asked if He was a relative or a friend.”

Michael smiled, imagining the innocent question from a little girl. “How old were you?”

“Nine or ten, I think. They told me Jesus was their Savior, and Mr. McLeary explained that He is the same Jesus spoken about in the Quran. Not that I was much of a student of the Quran, but I had heard of Him. What these friends said was very different from what I had learned. Mr. McLeary explained that Jesus forgives sin and that everyone who believes in Him will be saved.”

“So your friend’s father led you to the Lord?”

“It took many years before I made the decision. It was a frightening thing to reject Allah. To reject Islam was to reject my family—and be rejected by them. Not to mention being sent to hell.

“But Allah felt like an angry dictator, making rules and demanding we follow. Do his will, he said, and maybe if you do it enough, and well enough, maybe you will be saved. But maybe not. And there was no way to know. He felt…fickle and impossible to please. I wondered what my chances were. How many Muslims would Allah accept? I asked the question of a religious teacher once, and he said we would be lucky if Allah took half.”

What a horrible way to live, always hoping your good deeds outweighed your bad, hoping that your god would accept you, but never knowing for sure.

“I looked at myself,” Leila said, “and I looked at my twin, and I knew of the two of us, she would be saved, and I would not. Because Yasamin is the good one, and I am the one who stirs up trouble. I do not like to do what I’m told.”

“Really?” he deadpanned. “I’d never have guessed.”

A smile tipped her lips up. “This is shocking, I know. I am always so sweet and compliant.”

He chuckled. “You’re definitely sweet.”

The van slowed, then came to a stop. Michael kept himself and Leila from jostling as the vehicle inched forward, then sped up again.

He was dripping with sweat and dying for a breeze. He’d be cooler if Leila wasn’t so close, but he wasn’t about to push her away.

“How old were you when you finally gave your life to Jesus?” he asked.

“Fifteen. Yasamin had a doctor’s appointment that day, so Mama took her and I stayed with my friend. We started talking, and I told Bridget that I wanted to know more about Jesus. She called her father, and he came home from work to talk to me. He led me in a prayer, and I was converted and saved.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m so glad you were.”

“I didn’t tell Jasmine for almost a year. And then God told me that, if I didn’t tell her, she could die believing in the wrong thing, and then she would be rejected by Jesus. So, I was very afraid, but I told her.”

“Afraid of what?” Michael asked.

“That she would tell our parents. I had no idea what they would do, but it would not be good.”

“Did she?”

“She prayed to Jesus with me and accepted Him. But then she wanted to tell our parents the truth. I was very afraid, but Jasmine… She was always the good one. I see as I get older that she was never timid, only meek. Patient and willing to follow and obey. This is meek, yes?”

“My father says meekness is power under control. He says good men are meek men, the kind who can fight enemies with great strength but who also place themselves under the authority of others. Good soldiers are meek, submitting to the authority of those of higher rank. Good fathers are meek, submitting to the authority of God—and pastors and employers.”

“This is my sister.”

“So, did you? Tell your parents?”

“We told Mama.” By the flat tone of the words, the conversation hadn’t gone well.

“And?”

“She said she would pretend she’d not heard us, and we should never speak of Jesus again.”

“Not the reaction you’d hoped for.”

“The one I expected.”