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Source: Bought from Half.com
Book Description:
This book is the story of a high-born middle-aged Pakistani Muslim woman who converted from Islam to Christianity in 1966. The story describes how she came to convert to Christianity and the consequences to herself and her extended Muslim family over the next six years.
Review:
This book is the story of a high-born middle-aged Pakistani Muslim woman who converted from Islam to Christianity in 1966. The story describes how she came to convert to Christianity and the consequences to herself and her extended Muslim family over the next six years.
The book provided a fascinating look into what life was like for Christians in Pakistan in 1966 to 1972. Pakistan is an Islam nation, but apparently the culture was fairly moderate until a change occurred in the government in 1976. Still, at the time Bilquis Sheikh converted, Christianity was for the poor who wanted food and clothing from the missionaries, not for the rich.
The book started with a series of startling supernatural things that happened to her that led her to start deeply studying the Koran and, later, the Bible. Then she took her grandson to a hospital, and a nun suggested she pray to God as her father. The idea was a shocking one, but she tried it...and got a response. After sneaking over to ask questions of two Christian missionaries and carefully considering how converting would affect her life, she becomes a Christian. When the news becomes public, her life was threatened and her own family shunned her. During this time, she also struggled with how to constantly stay in the presence of God and the book shows some of the conclusions she came to.
Overall, the book was a well-written, engrossing, and powerful story. The author was very open about her faults and struggles, both before and after her conversion. I'd very highly recommend it to all Christians.
If you've read this book, what do you think about it? I'd be honored if you wrote your own opinion of the book in the comments.
Excerpt: Chapter One
The strange prickly feeling grew inside me as I walked slowly along the graveled paths of my garden. It was deep twilight. The scent of late narcissus hung heavy in the air. What was it, I wondered, that made me so uneasy?
I stopped my walk and looked around. Inside my home some distance across the broad lawn the servants were beginning to flick on lights in the dining area. Outside all seemed peaceful and quiet. I reached out to snip off some of the pungent white blossoms for my bedroom. As I leaned over to grasp the tall green stems, something brushed past my head.
I straightened in alarm. What was it? A mist-like cloud--a cold, damp unholy presence--had floated by. The garden suddenly seemed darker. A chilling breeze sprang up through the weeping willows and I shivered.
Get hold of yourself, Bilquis! I scolded. My imagination was playing tricks on me. Nevertheless, I gathered my flowers and headed quickly toward the house where windows glowed in warm reassurance. Its sturdy white stone walls and oaken doors offered protection. As I hurried along the crunchy gravel path I found myself glancing over my shoulder. I had always laughed at talk of the supernatural. Of course there wasn't anything out there. Was there?
As if in answer, I felt a firm, very real and uncanny tap on my right hand.
I screamed. I rushed into the house and slammed the door behind me. My servants ran to me, afraid to make any comment at all, for I must have looked like a ghost myself.
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