ভূমিকা

Shiavault - a Vault of Shia Islamic Books Converts To Islam Sister Jan Jackson This is the story of my conversion to Islam. Before I begin, let me say that I dont believe my story is particularly special, in that there are many stories like it. However, as I believe that God wrought a miracle in my life (as He has in many others) then of course it IS special. I guess there are two ways to tell my story. You could say: I met a man who introduced me to Islam. I converted, and we married.

But that is a gross simplification. You could also say it this way I am a 48 year old Australian. I was raised a Catholic and am still grateful for the religious upbringing my parents gave me. They were practising Catholics who imparted their faith to me and I attended a Catholic school. From this education I did gain a version of God and a kind of spiritual sense, but these were both so vague and inaccessible as to never touch my heart.

The doctrine of Christianity never really sat comfortably with me. It was like a coat that doesnt fit. I wore it but it never felt right and by the time I was about 20, I was happier taking the coat off. Sadly, I didnt wear a coat at all for the next 25 years. During that time I lived a comfortable, privileged life, in the western lifestyle sense financially secure, educated and trained, healthy, with no major crises in my life. I married. I worked. I travelled. I indulged myself.

Food, wine, entertainment, weekends away, fancy hotels, overseas trips. Eat, drink and be merry. Having no children, I had no real responsibilities. I sought mainly to entertain myself, and have a good time. From where I am standing now, that period just seems like a life without purpose, and its truly painful for me to look back and see 25 years of a Godless life. Then, about five years ago, God gave me the opportunity to reassess my life, alhamdulillah .

My personal circumstances changed drastically. My beloved father died tragically, my marriage broke up painfully, my income was significantly reduced and I was living alone. I was forced to take stock, reflect and reassess my life. And I found myself in a thoroughly meaningless void. Around this time I began to read all kinds of material on all kinds of religions. I tried to revive my Catholicism, but it was useless. It did not feel real or sincere. I felt no sense of connection.

At this time I met, and had a very important conversation with, a Muslim brother, my neighbour who later became my husband.