BREAKING MY SILENCE
EX-MUSLIM WOMAN SHOT 3 TIMES FOR BECOMING A CHRISTIAN
HOW GOD MIRACULOUSLY SAVE HER
AFTER BEING LEFT TO DIE
FROM PAIN TO FREEDOM IN CHRIST
READ NOW!!
I HAVE DECIDED TO FOLLOW JESUS
Today we have the profound privilege to share one of the most miraculous testimonies ever shared.
This is a transformative journey of how a Muslim lady named Zara was shot multiple times because she found Christ Jesus.
This is a story of survival, faith, and the miraculous power of God. Please stay till the end. Helps us reach more people with stories that matter.
Say a prayer for Zara in the comments. Thank you. Let her know that people around the world are standing with her, praying for her protection and peace. Share this story with many people. Your share could change someone's life. Thank you for being here.
Zara Ali: A year ago, in the month of June, my life ended and began again on the same day. Everything you are about to hear comes from that one moment. That moment changed me completely and it saved my soul.
My name is Zara Ali. I come from a very religious Muslim family in Karachi. My father Ali was a respected man in our community. He was not just Muslim by culture like some people are. He was deeply religious. He studied Islam. He knew the Quran. He taught other people about Islam. He was the kind of man who people came to when they wanted to know what Islam said about something.
My mother Camila, she was also very religious. She wore her hijab tightly. She prayed all five prayers every single day. She fasted during Ramadan with strict discipline. She taught me from when I was very small that Islam was everything, that Islam was the only truth, that following Islam was the only Way to be a good person and to go to heaven.
I have a little brother, Usman. He is 6 years younger than me. He was always a quiet boy, very obedient. He followed what my father said without questioning anything. He went to Islamic school. He learned to pray perfectly. He was the kind of son that made my parents proud in a way that was easy and simple.
But I was different. From when I was young, I was curious. I asked questions. I wanted to understand things, not just accept them because someone told me to accept them.
My father, he was not always happy with this. He would say to me, "Zara, a good Muslim girl does not ask so many questions. A good Muslim girl listens and obeys." But I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know why we believed what we believed. I wanted to understand.
When I was old enough to go to university, I chose to study Islamic studies. My father was very happy about this. He thought that by studying Islam more deeply, I would understand better and I would stop asking difficult questions. He thought that studying would make me more faithful, not less faithful. He did not know what would happen.
I went to university in Karach. I was 23 years old. I was a good student. I worked hard. I read everything I could find about Islam. I read the Quran. I read the Hadith. I read the writings of Islamic scholars. I read about Islamic history. I studied everything. And the more I studied, the more questions I had.
At first, the questions were small. I would read something in the Quran and think, "This does not make sense to me." Or I would read about something that happened in Islamic history and think, "How could this be right? Why would God allow this?" But I pushed the questions away. I told myself that I just did not understand deeply enough. I told myself that if I studied more, the answers would come and the questions would go away. But they did not go away. The questions got bigger. The questions got more serious. The questions started to shake the foundation of everything I believed.
I started to read about other religions. I read about Christianity. I read about what Christians believed. I read about Jesus. And something happened to me when I read about Jesus. Something changed inside me. It was like a door opened that l did not know was there. It was like I was seeing light for the first time. I remember reading about how Jesus loved people. How Jesus forgave people. How Jesus spent time with people that society rejected. How Jesus did not come to judge but to save. How Jesus died so that people could be forgiven. And I thought this is not what I have been taught. This is different. This is beautiful. This is something I want to understand more. So I read more. I went to secret places. I found ways to read the Bible. I found Christian websites online. I watched videos of Christians explaining their faith. And with every word I read, with every video I watched, I felt myself changing. I felt myself moving away from Islam and moving toward Jesus. But I was terrified.
I was terrified of what would happen if my family found out. I was terrified of what would happen if my community found out. I was terrified of what would happen. If the wrong people found out.
In Pakistan, leaving Islam is not just a personal choice. It is a crime. It is something that can get you killed. And I knew this. I knew it very well. So I hid. I lived a double life. During the day, I was the good Muslim daughter. I wore my hijab. I prayed. I studied Islamic studies at university. I talked about Islam with my family. But at night when I was alone in my room, I would read the Bible. I would pray to Jesus. I would cry because l knew that I was becoming a Christian. And I knew that if anyone found out, my life would be over.
This went on for many months. I was living in secret. I was living in fear. I was living in a constant state of anxiety, never knowing if today would be the day that someone discovered what I was doing.
Then one day, someone at university noticed something. A girl in my Islamic studies class, she saw something on my computer. She saw a Christian website that I had forgotten to close. She saw it and she reported me. She told the Islamic authorities at the university that there was a girl who was reading Christian material. She told them that this girl was becoming a Christian.
The Islamic authorities, they came to me. They called me into an office. There were three men there. They were very serious. They told me what the girl had reported. They asked me if it was true. And I was so scared. I was so terrified. But I could not lie. I could not deny it. I could not say no when the truth was yes. So I told them I told them that I had been reading about Christianity. I told them that I was questioning Islam. I told them that I believed in Jesus Christ. The moment I said those words, everything changed.
The men looked at me like I was a monster. They looked at me like I was the worst thing they had ever seen. One of them stood up and said that I was an apostate. He said that I had left Islam. He said that according to Islamic law, I deserve to die. He said that it was their duty to make sure I died.
I remember feeling like the room was spinning. I remember not being able to breathe. I remember thinking that this was it. This was the moment my life ended.
They arrested me. They took me to a place that was not a police station. It was a place run by Islamic authorities. It was a dark place. It was a place where I was alone with men who believed I deserved to be dead. They questioned me for hours. They asked me why I had betrayed Islam. They asked me why I wanted to go to hell. They told me that if I converted back to Islam right now. If I said that I believed in Islam again, they would let me go. They said that this was my only chance. But I could not do it. I could not deny Jesus.
Even though I was terrified, even though I knew they were going to kill me, I could not deny Jesus. I could not go back to being Muslim. Something inside me, something that Jesus had put inside me would not let me do it.
So, they took me outside. They took me to a place behind the city, a place where not many people go. It was early in the morning. The sun was just starting to come up and they shot me.
The first shot, it went into my shoulder. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was like fire burning inside my body. I screamed. I could not help it. I screamed because the pain was so bad.
The second shot, it went into my side. I fell down. I was on the ground now. I could not breathe. I could not think. I could only feel the pain and feel the blood coming out of my body.
The third shot, it went into my leg. And after that, I do not remember much. I remember the men standing over me. I remember them saying that I was dead now, that I was no longer a problem. I remember them leaving and then there was only darkness and pain and the feeling that I was dying. I do not know how long I was lying there. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. I only know that I was lying on the ground and I was bleeding and I thought I was going to die.
Then I heard a sound. I heard a vehicle coming. I heard voices. I heard a man's voice and he was saying something in Urdu. He was saying that he had come to dispose of the body of the girl who had left Islam. He was supposed to take my dead body and get rid of it so that no one would ever find me.
But I was not dead. The man, he came close to me. He looked at me and he saw that I was still breathing. He saw that my eyes were open. He saw that I was still alive and something happened to him in that moment, something changed inside him.
He later told the Christian brothers who saved me that when he saw me lying there, when he saw that I was stil alive, even though I had been shot three times, he knew that God was doing something. He knew that God was showing him something. He knew that he could not kill me. He knew that he had to save me, but he was also terrified. He knew that if the Islamic authorities found out that he had saved me instead of killing me, they would kill him, too. So he had to think quickly. He had to make a choice. He had to decide if he was willing to risk his own life to save mine. He made the choice to save me.
He did not move me right away. He waited. He made sure that no one was coming. And then very carefully he picked me up. He put me in his vehicle and he drove. But he did not drive to a hospital. He could not take me to a regular hospital because the police would find me there. The Islamic authorities would find me there. They would finish what they started.
So instead, he drove to a place where he knew there were Christians. He drove to a secret place where Christians met and he told them what had happened. He told them that he had found a girl who had been shot three times because she had converted to Christianity. He told them that this girl was still alive and that she needed help.
The Christian brothers, they came to get me. They took me to a place where l could be hidden and where I could be treated. A doctor came, a Christian doctor who risked his own life to help me. He removed the bullets from my body. He cleaned my wounds. He gave me medicine. He saved my life.
I was in so much pain. I was in so much fear. I did not know if I would live or die. I did not know if the Islamic authorities would find me.
But the Christian brothers and sisters, they took care of me. They prayed for me. They spoke to me about Jesus. They told me that God had saved my life for a reason. They told me that Jesus had not let me die because Jesus had more work for me to do.
For many weeks, I could not move. My wounds were too serious. My body was too damaged. I could only lie there and think about what had happened to me. I could only lie there and feel the pain and wonder if God was really real. If Jesus was really there, if all of this had been worth it. And I had so many questions. I had so much anger. I was angry at God for letting this happen to me. I was angry at myself for converting to Christianity. I was angry at the world for being so cruel. I was angry at my family for raising me in a religion that taught that people like me should be killed.
But as I healed, as my body got stronger, as my wounds began to close, something else happened. Something began to change inside me again, I began to feel God's presence. I began to understand that God had been with me the whole time. I began to see that even in the darkness, even in the pain, even when I was dying, God was there. I realized that God had sent that man to save me. That man, the man who was supposed to kill me, he had questions, too. He had doubts, too. He had a conscience that would not let him do what he had been told to do. And God used that man. God used his doubt and his questions to save my life. I realized that God had sent the Christian brothers and sisters. God had put people in my life who would risk everything to help me even though they did not know me. They helped me because Jesus taught them to love their enemies and to help people in need. And that love, that sacrifice, it showed me something real about God. It showed me that God is real because people were willing to die for me, willing to risk everything for me because they believed in Jesus.
After many months of hiding and healing, I made a decision. I decided that I would not stay hidden forever. I decided that I would use my life for something. I decided that I would help other people who were facing what I faced. I decided that I would help other people who were converting from Islam to Christianity. I decided that I would fight against the persecution that is happening in Pakistan against Christians.
So now, even though I am still in danger, even though l still cannot contact my family, even though I still live in fear of being betrayed, I help other converts. I help them find safe places. I help them connect with Christian communities. I help them understand what it means to follow Jesus in a country where following Jesus can get you killed.
My family does not know that I am alive. They think I am dead. My father, my mother, my little brother, Usman. They all think that I was killed by the Islamic authorities and that my body was disposed of. They are grieving for me, but they are also ashamed of me. They think that I deserved what happened to me because I left Islam.
It breaks my heart that I cannot contact them. It breaks my heart that they are suffering because they think I am dead. It breaks my heart that I can never go home. That I can never see my mother's face again. That I can never talk to my little brother Usman again. That pain, it is almost as bad as the pain of being shot .
But I also know that if I contacted them, if I told them that I was alive, they would tell the Islamic authorities. They would feel that it was their duty. They would feel that they needed to finish what was started and I would be killed and my family would be in danger, too. So I cannot contact them. I have to let them think that I am dead.
For a long time after I recovered, I was still very angry. I was still very conflicted. I did not understand why God would let this happen to me. I did not understand why God would take my family away from me. I did not understand why God would let me suffer so much pain.
I asked God many questions. I cried. I was angry with God. I felt like God had abandoned me. I felt like Jesus had let me down. I felt like my conversion to Christianity had destroyed my life instead of saving it.
But slowly over time, I began to understand something different. I began to understand that God had not abandoned me. God had been with me the whole time. God had saved my life three times. God had put people in my path who would help me. God had given me a purpose. God had given me work to do.
And now a year later, I can say that I have found peace. I have found redemption. I have found forgiveness. I have forgiven the men who shot me. I have forgiven the girl who reported me. I have forgiven my family for being unable to understand. And I have forgiven myself for being afraid.
I understand now that God did not save my life just so that I could survive. God saved my life so that I could help others. God saved my life so that I could show people that faith is real, that Jesus is real, that God's love is real. God saved my life so that I could be a witness to the power of God and the power of faith.
Every day I help Christians in Pakistan who are facing persecution.
Every day I help people who are converting from Islam and who are facing rejection from their families. Every day I help people who are in danger because of their faith.
And every day I remember that I was once like them. I was once terrified. I was once persecuted. I was once shot and left to die, but I did not die.
And that means something. That means that God has a plan. That means that God is real. That means that faith matters. That means that Jesus is worth everything. Even worth losing your family, even worth the pain, even worth the fear.
The man who saved me, the man who was supposed to kill me, he has also become a Christian. He has also left Islam. He has also joined the community of believers. His questions, his doubts, his conscience, they led him to Jesus, too.
And now he helps me. Now we work together to help other people. Now we are brothers and sisters in Christ.
When I look back at my life now, I see a girl who was asleep. I see a girl who was just going through the motions, doing what she was supposed to do, not thinking about what she really believed. I see a girl who was brave enough to ask questions and strong enough to follow the truth even when it was dangerous.
But I also see all the pain. I see the bullets in my body. I see the blood on the ground. I see the darkness of that place where they shot me. I see my mother's face grieving for a daughter she thinks is dead. I see my little brother Usman growing up thinking his sister was a traitor to Islam.
The pain is real. The loss is real. The sacrifice is real. But so is the redemption. So is the peace. So is the purpose. So is the love of God.
I am Zara Ali from Karachi Pakistan. I was a Muslim girl who studied the Quran and found Jesus. I was persecuted for my faith. I was shot three times and left to die. I was saved by a man who had questions. I survived. I recovered. I found peace.
And now I am fighting so that other people can have what I have. I am fighting so that other people can find Jesus. I am fighting so that other people can be free from fear. I am fighting so that other people do not have to choose between their family and their faith.
It took me a year to understand that everything that happened to me, even the terrible things, even the painful things, they all happened for a reason. God was with me. God was guiding me. God was preparing me for this work.
And I am at peace now. I am no longer angry at God. I no longer question whether God is real. I no longer doubt whether my conversion was worth it. My faith cost me everything. My family, my home, my safety, my normal life. It cost me three bullets in my body. It cost me a year of hiding and healing.
But it gave me something, too. It gave me truth. It gave me purpose. It gave me Jesus. It gave me a community of believers who would die for me. It gave me peace that surpasses all understanding.
And I would make the same choice again, even knowing what I know now, even knowing the pain that comes with it. I would choose Jesus again. I would choose faith again. I would choose truth again.
Because nothing in this world is worth more than knowing Jesus. Nothing in this world is worth more than being saved by God's love. And nothing in this world is worth more than being part of God's family. I am Zara Ali and this is my story.
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