Hello brothers and sisters. Thank you for the continued support you show to those who bravely share their testimonies.

Today we bring you a powerful testimony from an Iranian woman who has chosen to share her testimony.

For her safety, her name has been changed and the names of the people she was involved with.

Please keep our sister in your prayers and remember to love one another as Christ has loved us.

Let us now hear her testimony. I speak quietly. My name is Shireen Azadi and I am from Iran.

I am not safe when I tell this but I tell it because I left Islam and the state said prison or death.

So I chose Jesus. I lost everything but I gained everything. I grew up in Tehran where my family is not rich and we are not poor.

We are middle and we live in small apartment. My father works in government office while my mother stays home where she cooks and she cleans and she prays five times every day and she makes sure I pray too.

I am 7 years old when the headscarf becomes my skin and my mother pulls it tight over my hair and she says this is modesty.

This is honor. This is God. I do not ask questions because questions bring shame and shame brings anger and anger brings the hand across my face.

I learn to be quiet and I learn to be small and I learn to obey before the command comes.

My mother says this is good and this is what makes a good Muslim girl, a good Iranian daughter, a good future wife.

School is the same where the teachers are women in black jadors and they teach us Quran and they teach us obedience.

They teach us that our hair is sin if men see it and our laugh is sin if men hear it and our body is sin if we walk wrong.

I am 9 years old and I already feel dirty for breathing. The modesty police walk our streets and they drive white and green vans and they stop women and they measure sleeves and they measure hems.

They look at makeup and they look at hair showing and my mother says always be careful.

One time they stop my aunt because she is wearing lipstick and they take her to station and she comes back crying and she does not wear lipstick again.

I have one friend and her name is Nazarin and we walk home from school together and we talk quiet.

We dream about university and we dream about jobs but we do not dream too loud because dreams are dangerous for girls like us.

One day Nassin tells me she wants to be doctor and I tell her I want to write stories and we are 13 and we still believe we can choose.

Then everything changes for Nasin when her father finds match for her and she is 14 and the man is 32.

She cries at school and she begs her mother. But her mother says this is life and this is honor and this is duty.

I go to a wedding where Nasarin wears white dress and her eyes are dead and I never see her the same again.

She drops from school and she has baby one year later when she is 15.

I am afraid because I know my turn comes and my father starts talking about marriage when I am 15 and he brings tea to men who visit our home.

Old men and married men looking for second wife and young men from families with money come to our house.

I sit quiet in the room while they look at me and they talk about me like I am not there and they ask my father about my cooking and my sewing and my obedience but no one asks me anything.

One man comes back three times and his name is Reza and he is 28 and he works in his father’s import business and he has money.

My father likes this very much. Reza looks at me with hungry eyes and I feel sick.

But I say nothing because what can I say when I am 16 and I have no power and I have no voice and I have no choice.

The engagement happens fast as my mother buys gold jewelry and my father signs papers and Raza brings gifts.

Expensive perfume and silk scarf and box of sweets come to our house. He speaks to my father and not to me because I am object and I am transaction and I am property moving from one man to another man.

The wedding is in summer when I am 17 and I wear white dress my mother chooses and I wear makeup they put on my face.

I smile when they tell me smile because I am trained dog and I am puppet and I am not me.

The moola reads Quran and Raza says yes and I say yes and my yes is whisper and no one cares if I mean it.

The wedding night is worst night of my life because I am child and I am afraid.

Raza is not gentle and he is not kind and he takes what he thinks he owns.

I cry after while he sleeps and I stare at ceiling and I pray and I pray to Allah to help me and to save me and to make this easier but Allah does not answer and Allah never answers.

Marriage is prison with nice furniture where I cook for Raza and I clean for Raza and I wait for Raza to come home.

I ask permission to visit my mother and I ask permission to go to market and I ask permission to breathe.

Sometimes he says yes and sometimes he says no and sometimes he does not answer and his silence is my punishment.

Raza is not always angry because sometimes he is kind and he brings me chocolate and he takes me to his mother’s house for dinner.

But the kindness is unpredictable and I never know which Raza comes home. Angry Raza or kind Raza.

I walk on glass every day and I learn to read his face and his walk and his breathing and I learn to disappear when I need to.

His mother is worse than him because she criticizes everything. My cooking is too bland and my cleaning is not deep enough and my prayers are too short and I am not pregnant fast enough and this becomes the biggest crime.

6 months and 1 year and 18 months pass with no baby and the family starts to whisper, “Maybe I am broken and maybe I am cursed and maybe Reza should take second wife.”

I pray for baby not for me but for protection because baby will make them leave me alone and baby will prove I am not useless and baby will give me purpose but no baby comes and the doctor says nothing is wrong with me and nothing is wrong with Raza just wait and be patient but patience runs out in Iranian family and patience runs out fast then I get sick with bad sick with fever that does not break and pain in my stomach.

I lose weight and Raza takes me to doctor and doctor does tests and many tests.

They find mass and tumor not cancer they say but surgery needed. I am 20 years old and I am afraid and I think maybe I die on table and part of me hopes for it.

The surgery happens and they remove tumor and they remove other things too and they tell me after and they tell Rissa first and then they tell me I cannot have children now because the damage is too much and the surgery took too much.

I am barren and I am empty and I am worthless now. Reza is quiet when he hears this and his face turns stone and he does not touch me after I come home from hospital and he does not speak to me except commands.

Get tea and make dinner and wash clothes. These are the only words he says.

I am servant now, not even wife, just servant who failed her only job.

His mother comes over and she says loud things and she wants Raza to divorce me and she says I am defective and I am broken goods.

I trapped her son with lies she tells everyone. I cry in the bedroom where no one comforts me and no one cares.

But Raza does not divorce me because his pride will not allow it. And divorce means admitting he chose wrong and his pride is bigger than his anger.

So I stay and I stay in this house that feels like grave and I stay with this man who looks through me and I stay and I feel myself dying slow.

Nighttime is when the thoughts come, the dark thoughts and the empty thoughts. I lie awake and I wonder what is the point and what is the point of this life and what is the point of this existence.

I pray to Allah and I recite verses I memorize and I beg for peace and for purpose and for anything.

But I feel nothing just empty and just cold and just alone. I start asking questions I never dared before.

Questions like why does Allah make me woman if being woman is curse? And why does Allah allow this pain?

And why does Allah feel so far? And why does my faith feel so dead?

These questions are dangerous and these questions are blasphemy but I cannot stop them because they pour out like water from cracked jar.

One night I am so tired I cannot sleep and I am so empty I cannot cry and I lie in bed and I stare at dark ceiling.

I pray one more time but this time I do not pray to Allah because I do not know who I pray to and I just speak to the darkness.

I say if there’s anyone who cares and if there is anyone who sees me and if there’s anyone who knows my name please and please help me and please show me you are real.

Then I sleep and I fall into sleep so deep it feels like death. And I dream but this dream is not like other dreams because this dream is more real than real.

I am standing in white space not room and not outside. Just white and clean.

White and peaceful white. And I am not afraid. Then I see him. A man who wears simple clothes and white robe.

And his face is kind. And his eyes see into me. Not through me, but into me like he knows every part of me and every wound and every fear and every hope I buried.

And he loves it all. I feel this love before he speaks and it washes over me like warm water and like light and like breath after drowning.

He speaks my name, Shiran. And his voice is gentle and calm with no anger and no judgment and no demand, just love and just peace.

He says, “Shireen, I see you and I know you and I love you and come to me and I am the way and I am the truth and I am the life.

I want to ask who are you?” But I know because deep in my chest I know that this is Jesus and this is Issa the prophet we are told about in Quran.

But this is more than prophet and this is God and this is God looking at me with eyes full of tears.

Tears for me and tears for my pain and tears for my life. I open my mouth to speak but I cannot because I am crying too hard.

And I fall on my knees and I reach for him. He comes close and he puts his hand on my head and his touch is real and so real.

He says, “Be brave,” Shearin and I have plans for you. Follow me and trust me and I will never leave you.

Then I wake up and I am shaking and my face is wet and my heart is pounding.

Reza is asleep next to me and the room is dark and the clock says 3:00 in the morning.

I touch my face and I touch my head where he touched me and the peace from the dream is still there and it does not leave and it stays with me and it fills me and it changes me.

I get out of bed quiet and I go to bathroom and I look in mirror and my face looks same but I am different.

Something broke and something opened and something entered me and I know I cannot go back and I cannot pretend and I cannot forget.

Jesus spoke my name and Jesus called me and Jesus loves me. And this truth burns in my chest like coal and like fire and like life.

The next days are strange as I move through my routines and I cook and I clean and I pray the Muslim prayers.

But the words are ash in my mouth. They mean nothing now. And I go through motions and I feel like actor and like fraud.

My heart is somewhere else. And my heart is with Jesus. With the one who saw me and the one who called my name.

But I am afraid. So afraid. Because leaving Islam in Iran is death sentence. And apostasy is crime punished by execution.

I know women who disappeared for less and I know families who killed their own daughters for bringing shame and I know the danger.

But I cannot stop the hunger growing in me. Hunger for truth and hunger for Jesus and hunger for the peace I tasted in that dream.

I start searching quiet when I use racist computer when he is at work and I search careful and I clear history and I use private browser.

I read about Christianity and I read about Jesus and I read testimonies of other Iranians who left Islam.

Their stories sound like my story and their hunger sounds like my hunger and their fear sounds like my fear.

But they found way and they found Jesus and they found freedom. So maybe I can too.

I find website that offers Bible in Farsy and my heart races and I know downloading this is dangerous but I need to read it and I need to know.

I download small file and I hide it in folder with boring name budget spreadsheet because no one will look there.

And no one cares about budget spreadsheet. I read at night just little bits when Raza is asleep and when the house is quiet.

I read the words of Jesus, the sermon on the mount and the woman at the well and the prodigal son.

Every word feels like water on dry ground. And every word feeds the hunger. And every word confirms what I felt in the dream that this is truth and this is real and this is God who loves.

The Jesus in these pages is nothing like Allah because Allah demands and Allah punishes and Allah is distant and Allah is harsh.

But Jesus invites and Jesus forgives and Jesus is close and Jesus is gentle.

Jesus touched lepers and Jesus talked to prostitutes and Jesus loved the broken and Jesus died for sinners and Jesus died for me.

I cry when I read silent tears that soak my pillow because I am reading about love I never knew existed.

Love that has no conditions and love that does not require perfection and love that does not leave when I fail and love that pursues me even when I run.

This love terrifies me and this love heals me and this love ruins me for anything else.

But I am so alone because I cannot tell anyone and I cannot ask questions out loud.

I cannot share this with Raza and I cannot tell my mother and I cannot call my old friend Nasarin.

This secret is mine alone and this secret is my treasure and my burden and I carry it in silence and I carry it in fear and I carry it in joy that nobody sees.

Then one day at market I meet woman who is buying vegetables next to me and she looks at me and she smiles normal smile and kind smile.

But something in her eyes is different. Peace. The same peace I saw in Jesus’s eyes and the same peace I felt in my dream.

I stare too long and she notices. She speaks quiet and she says, “Sister, are you looking for something?”

And I freeze. How does she know? And how can she see? These questions race through my mind.

I shake my head and I turn away but she touches my arm gentle and she says do not be afraid.

And she gives me small paper with phone number. She says text this number and say you want to learn English and then she walks away.

I hold the paper in my shaking hand and I know what this is and I know what she is offering.

Connection and community and church. I know this is dangerous. But I know I cannot walk alone anymore.

I need someone and I need help and I need Jesus in real life, not just in dreams and not just in secret reading.

I need him with skin and with voice and with hands that can hold mine.

I wait one week while fear battles with hunger and fear says this is trap and fear says you will be arrested and fear says you will die but hunger says you will die anyway and hunger says you are already dead and hunger says you need living water and you need bread of life and you need Jesus.

I text the number and my hands shake so bad I misspel words and I say I want to learn English.

The reply comes fast with an address and a day and a time Friday evening.

I know I have to lie to Raza and I tell him I am visiting my mother and he does not care and he barely looks up from his phone.

I am ghost in my own home and this works in my favor now. Friday comes and I take bus to a dress and it is apartment building in older part of city.

Not fancy and not poor, just normal. I climb stairs to third floor and I find door with number and I stand there frozen and my heart pounds so hard I hear it in my ears.

I almost run and I almost leave but I knock. A man opens door and he is young with kind face and he looks around hallway quick and then he lets me in.

Inside there are six other people, some women and some men, all Iranian and all looking nervous like me.

The apartment is small and curtains are closed and music plays low on speaker Christian music in Farsy.

I start crying before I even sit down. The man who opened door is named Dvoud and he welcomes us and he says we are safe here and he says we are family here and he says Jesus loves us here.

Then we sing quiet songs, songs about Jesus and songs about freedom and songs about love.

My voice is whisper but tears are loud. Tears I cannot stop. Dvoud reads from Bible and he reads about the lost sheep about the shepherd who leaves 99 to find the one who is lost.

He says you are that one and you are the one Jesus searched for and you are the one Jesus found and you are precious to him and you are loved by him and you are safe with him.

I break and I break open like dam and I sobb and I cannot breathe.

A woman next to me puts her arm around me and she holds me while I shake and she whispers it is okay and let it out.

Jesus is here and Jesus sees you and Jesus catches every tear. After the meeting, Dvoud talks to me and he asks my story and I tell him everything, the dream and the reading and the hunger and the fear.

He listens careful and he does not judge and he does not rush me.

And then he asks if I want to follow Jesus and if I want to accept him as Lord and Savior and if I want to be born again.

I say yes. Yes with my whole heart and yes with my whole soul and yes with everything I am.

I choose Jesus and I leave Islam and I leave Allah and I leave the religion that made me slave and I choose the God who makes me daughter and I choose the savior who makes me clean and I choose the king who makes me free.

David prays with me in simple prayer and I repeat after him and I confess Jesus as Lord and I believe God raised him from the dead.

I ask him to save me and to forgive me and to make me new.

And something happens. Something real and something powerful. I feel washing and cleaning and healing.

And I feel chains breaking and lies leaving and truth entering. I feel born and born again and born into life I never knew existed.

I leave that apartment different person and I walk down the stairs and I feel light like something heavy lifted off my shoulders and off my back and off my chest.

I can breathe and I can breathe deep for first time in my life and I smile at strangers on the street and I look up at the sky.

I thank Jesus and I thank him out loud in my heart and I thank him for finding me and for calling me and for saving me.

But I know the danger and I know I must be careful and I cannot change my behavior suddenly and I cannot let Raza suspect and I cannot let his mother notice and I cannot let anyone know.

I am secret believer now and hidden follower an underground Christian and this is my life now and this is my reality.

I start meeting with the group every week and I tell Raza different lies that I visit my mother or I go to doctor or I meet old friend or I take English class.

He does not care enough to check and I am careful and I am smart and I am afraid but I am also alive for first time I am alive.

The group becomes my real family because these people know my secret and these people share my faith and these people love me for real.

Not for what I do and not for what I provide just for who I am.

Daughter of God and sister in Christ, beloved and chosen and free. We study Bible together and we pray together and we cry together and we laugh together and we are church and we are body of Christ in Iran and we are dangerous and we are beautiful.

Davu teaches me so much as he explains gospel and he explains grace and he explains what Jesus did on cross and he explains resurrection and he explains holy spirit.

Every lesson is treasure and every truth is gold and I am hungry student.

I read Bible every day now and I memorize verses and I pray constantly and my relationship with Jesus grows deeper than anything I ever knew.

But I make mistake and I get careless because I am reading Bible on my phone one night and I think Raza is asleep but he is not.

He sees the screen and he asks what I am reading and I panic and I say nothing and just reading.

He grabs my phone and he looks and he sees and his face goes white and then red and then black with rage.

He explodes and he shouts and he calls me names I cannot repeat and he calls me kafir and unbeliever and apostate and traitor.

He says I brought shame on his house and shame on his family and shame on his name and he raises his hand and I think he will hit me but he does not.

He throws my phone against wall and it shatters and then he storms out and he slams door and the apartment shakes.

I am alone and I am shaking and I am terrified and I know what this means.

Raza will tell his family and his family will tell my family and my family will tell authorities or they will handle it themselves.

Honor killing it happens and it happens in Iran and it happens to women like me.

Women who bring shame and women who leave Islam and women who embarrass their men.

I grab few things, passport and money. I save secret and change of clothes and I stuff them in small bag.

I text the voodoo and I say emergency and I say Raza knows and I say help and he texts back address different address safe house.

He says come now and run. I run and I leave the apartment building and I take taxi and I watch behind me and I am sure someone follows but no one does.

Not yet. I reach the address and it is house and suburb on quiet street and Dvood meets me at door and he pulls me inside quick.

There are two other women there both Iranian believers and both running from same danger.

Dvood explains that the house belongs to Armenian Christian family who help persecuted believers and they hide us and they protect us and they risk their lives for us.

I am safe here for now but I cannot stay long and I cannot stay in Iran.

I need to leave country and I need to escape and I need asylum.

The next days are blur as Dav and the Armenian family work contacts and they talk to smugglers and they plan route and they arrange papers and they raise money.

Other believers contribute people I never met and people who heard my story and people who want to help.

Body of Christ is real and body of Christ is global and body of Christ takes care of its own.

The police come to Reza’s apartment and they ask about me and Reza tells them everything that I am apostate and I became Christian and I betrayed Islam.

They search for me and they go to my mother’s house where she cries and she denies everything and she says I am sick and I am confused and I am misled.

But she does not protect me. And she gives them my photo. And she tells them where I might go.

And she chooses Islam over daughter. And she chooses honor over love. I cannot go outside.

And I stay in the safe house. And I pray and I read Bible. And I wait.

And I am afraid. But I am not alone. Jesus is with me. And I feel him.

And I know him. And he promised never to leave. And he keeps his promises.

The women with me are strong and they share their stories and they encourage me and they remind me this life is not everything and Jesus is everything and eternity is everything.

Suffering now is nothing compared to glory later. One week passes and then Dvood comes with news that the plan is ready and I leave tomorrow night.

Smuggler will take me to Turkish border and from there other contacts will help and I will reach Istanbul and I will apply for asylum.

UN will interview me and if they approve I will go to safe country maybe Europe or maybe Canada or maybe America anywhere but Iran.

I feel too many things. Relief and fear and sadness and hope because I am leaving everything.

My family and my language and my culture and my home. But I am choosing Jesus and I am choosing life and I am choosing freedom and this is the cost and this is the price.

I pay it and I pay it gladly and I pay it with tears but I pay it.

The night comes and the smuggler arrives and he is Kurdish man, quiet and serious and he does not talk much.

He says bring nothing, no phone and no jewelry, just clothes on your back and just documents.

I give my small bag to Dvood and I keep only passport and money. And I hug the Armenian family and I hug and I hug the other women.

We cry together and we pray together and then I go. The smuggler drives old car and we drive for hours north and toward mountains and toward border.

We stop at small village and he takes me to house another safe house where I sleep few hours on floor.

Then we move again before dawn and still dark. And we walk now through hills and through rocks and through cold.

Other people join us. Two men and one woman with small child. All Iranians and all running.

And we do not talk and we just walk. The smuggler leads and he knows the way and he knows where guards patrol and he knows where cameras are and he knows where to hide.

We trust him because we have no choice. We walk for hours and the sun comes up and we hide in cave and we wait until dark again while the child cries and the mother tries to quiet him.

We share small bread and drink little water while the men pray Muslim prayers and I pray to Jesus.

Silent prayers and grateful prayers and protection prayers. Night comes and we walk again and the border is closed now and the smuggler says be very quiet and be very careful.

One sound and we are caught and one mistake and we go to prison and prison means torture and prison means death.

We understand and we are silent and we are shadows. We see lights in distance, guard post, and the smuggler leads us around in wide circle through rough ground.

My feet hurt and my legs shake, but I do not stop and I cannot stop because freedom is ahead and Jesus is ahead and life is ahead.

Then we cross and I do not even know when. And the smuggler just says, “We are in Turkey now and we made it.

I want to collapse and I want to cry but we keep moving because we need to get far from border and far from danger.

We walk until morning and then truck picks us up hidden in back with bags of grain and we ride for hours cramped and dirty and alive.

We reach Istanbul, big city and crowded and loud and the smuggler leaves us at mosque and he says you are on your own now and good luck.

Then he disappears and I am lost and I am alone and I do not speak Turkish and I do not know where to go and I sit on steps and I pray.

A man approaches and he asks in English if I need help and I say yes and I say I am Iranian and I am Christian and I need asylum.

He nods and he says follow me and he takes me to office UN office for refugees.

There are so many people Syrians and Avans and Africans all running and all seeking safety and all hoping for chance.

I register and I fill papers and I tell my story and they give me number and they say wait and they say it takes time and they say maybe months and maybe years.

I say I have nowhere to go and they give me address refugee shelter where I can stay and I can wait.

The shelter is overcrowded and dirty and loud, but it is safe. And I share room with five other women from different countries with different languages, but same fear and same hope and same desperation.

We are sisters in suffering and we share food and we share tears and we share prayers.

I find underground church in Istanbul. Iranian believers who meet secret like in Thran but less danger here and they welcome me and they feed me and they love me and they become my family again.

Body of Christ is everywhere and body of Christ crosses borders and body of Christ does not forget its own.

Months pass and I wait and I pray and I trust and I struggle and some days are dark when I miss my mother and I miss farsy language and I miss Persian food and I miss home.

But home rejected me and home wanted me dead and home chose religion over relationship.

So this is my home now. Church is my home and believers are my home and Jesus is my home.

Then the interview comes and UN officer asks me questions, many questions about why I left and what happened and do I have proof.

I tell everything, the dream and the Bible and the church and the arrest attempt and the escape and she writes everything and she says, “I must wait more and wait for decision.”

I nod and I wait. Three more months pass and then approval comes and I am accepted and I am granted refugee status and I will go to Canada to Toronto where they have program for religious refugees and they will help me start new life.

I cry when I hear and I thank God and I thank Jesus and I thank everyone who prayed and everyone who helped and everyone who believed.

Before I leave Istanbul, the church baptizes me and we go to Smallpool, private place and safe place.

And the pastor asks if I believe Jesus is son of God and if I believe he died for my sins and if I believe he rose from the dead.

I say yes and yes and yes while I am crying and everyone is crying.

He lowers me into water and he says, “I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

And the water covers me and I go under and everything goes quiet. I feel washing again, deeper washing.

And I feel old life dying and old Shireen dying and old slave dying.

And I come up and I breathe. And I am new. And I am clean.

And I am free. And I am baptized. And I am Christian and I am daughter of the king.

The flight to Canada is long and I sit by window watching as Turkey disappears below and as Europe passes below and as ocean passes below.

I think about everything that happened and everything I lost and everything I gained. And I lost family and I lost home and I lost culture and I lost language and I lost everything familiar.

But I gained Jesus and I gained salvation and I gained freedom and I gained truth and I gained life.

Real life and eternal life and abundant life. Life that is worth living and life that has meaning and life that has purpose.

And I gained everything that matters. Canada is cold when I arrive. And Toronto is big and loud and fast.

And everything is different. The language and the food and the people and the weather.

I am stranger here, immigrant and refugee and outsider. But I am alive and I am free and I am safe.

I can worship Jesus openly and I can own Bible and I can go to church and I can speak his name without fear.

And this is miracle and this is grace and this is gift. The refugee program gives me apartment, small studio, but it is mine with no husband and no control and no fear.

I cry first night I sleep there and I cry from relief and from gratitude and from exhaustion and from grief and from joy all mixed together.

I join church, Canadian church with Iranian fellowship where so many Iranians live with so many stories like mine.

So many who left Islam for Jesus and so many who lost family and so many who chose life over death and we are family now.

We understand each other and we hold each other and we build new life together.

I learn English slow and hard but I learn and I get job. Cleaning job first and then retail job and then office job.

I work hard and I save money and I build life. Small life and simple life but free life and chosen life and my life.

I try to contact my mother and I send letter and I send email and I send message through cousin but no answer comes.

She does not want to speak to me and she does not want to know me because I am dead to her and I brought shame and I am apostate and I am lost.

She mourns me like I died, but I did die. An old Shireen died. A new Shireen lives.

And this new Shireen she does not know. And this new Shireen she does not want to know.

My father’s same because he told everyone I am dead. And he had funeral prayer for me.

And he cut me from family tree and he erased me from photos and he pretends I never existed.

This is his way of dealing with shame and this is his way of protecting honor and I do not exist to him anymore.

Sometimes this hurts so much I cannot breathe and sometimes I cry for hours and sometimes I want to go back and want to hide my faith and want to pretend.

Want my mother’s arms and want my father’s acceptance and want family back. But I cannot I cannot deny Jesus and I cannot go back to death and I cannot choose slavery after tasting freedom.

Jesus helps me and Jesus holds me and Jesus whispers truth. When lies scream loud, he says, “You are not alone and you are my daughter and you are chosen and you are loved and you are worth it and you are mine.

I paid for you with my blood and I died for you and I rose for you and I will never leave you and never forsake you and you are home with me.

Years pass, 5 years now in Canada and I am citizen now, Canadian citizen with passport that says Canada.

I vote and I work and I serve in church and I am free and I am blessed and I am grateful.

But I never forget Iran. I never forget the women there, the women still hiding and the women still hungry and the women still dying inside and the women still searching.

I speak now and I tell my story and I go to churches and I go to conferences and I tell them about Iran and about Islam and about oppression about women who have no voice and women who have no choice and women who are slaves.

And I tell them about Jesus, about how he came to me in dream, and about how he called my name, and about how he saved me, and about how he set me free.

I want them to know, and I want them to pray, and I want them to support believers in Iran because the church there is growing and growing fast, growing underground, and growing in danger, and growing in power.

And Holy Spirit is moving in Iran. Jesus is calling Iranians and Muslims are leaving Islam and women are finding freedom and men are finding truth and families are being saved.

But they need help and they need prayers and they need Bibles and they need resources and they need encouragement.

They need to know they are not forgotten and they need to know body of Christ sees them and cares for them and prays for them and stands with them.

I think about Nazarin sometimes my old friend the one who married at 14 and I wonder if she is still alive and I wonder if she is happy and I wonder if she is free.

I pray for her and I pray Jesus finds her and I pray he calls her name like he called mine and I pray she has courage to answer and I pray she finds the way.

I think about the woman in the market, the one who gave me phone number and the one who connected me to church and I never saw her again but she saved my life.

She risked her life to give me hope and to give me contact and to give me chance and she is hero and she is brave and she is faithful.

I pray Jesus protects her and I pray he blesses her and I pray he rewards her.

I think about Dvood the leader of underground church and I heard he was arrested three years ago.

They took him and they tortured him and they wanted names but he gave no names and he protected everyone.

They sentenced him to 10 years and maybe he is still alive and maybe he is in prison right now and I pray for him every day.

I pray for his strength and I pray for his faith and I pray for his release.

But even if he dies there, he wins. He wins because he chose Jesus. And he wins because Jesus chose him.

And he wins because eternity is coming. And eternity with Jesus is worth any suffering here.

I still have hard days. Days when I feel alone and days when I miss Iran and days when I miss my language and days when I miss my mother.

Days when I cry and days when I doubt and days when I am afraid.

But Jesus never leaves because he promised and he keeps his promises. He is with me in the hard days and he holds me in the dark nights.

And he whispers his love when I forget. And he reminds me who I am and whose I am and where I am going.

I know some people think I am foolish and think I threw away my life and think I destroyed my family.

Think I could have stayed quiet and could have been secret believer and could have kept everyone happy.

But that is not life. That is death and that is slavery and that is prison.

And Jesus did not call me to prison. He called me to freedom and he called me to truth and he called me to abundant life.

And this life even with all the pain and even with all the loss and even with all the struggle is abundant and is full and is rich and is worth it.

I want to speak to you now. You who are reading this and you who are in Iran and you who are hiding and you who are searching.

You who are hungry and you who are dying inside. And you who feel trapped and you who feel hopeless and you who feel like there’s no way out.

I see you. Jesus sees you. And we know your pain. And we know your fear and we know your struggle.

I want you to know Jesus is real. And he is not just prophet.

He is God and he is son of God. He died for you and for your sins and for your freedom.

And he rose again and he conquered death and he defeated sin and he broke every chain and he opened the way.

The way to father and the way to freedom and the way to life.

You can know him and you can follow him and you can be saved and it will cost you and it will cost you everything.

It might cost you your family and your home and your safety and your life, but he is worth it.

He is worth everything and he is worth more than everything. And he is treasure hidden in field and he is pearl of great price.

He is living water and he is bread of life and he is the way and the truth and the life.

Do not be afraid because yes it is dangerous and yes you might suffer and yes you might lose everything but you will gain Jesus and Jesus is everything.

This life is short and this life is vapor and this life is grass that withers but eternity is forever.

An eternity with Jesus is glory beyond description and is joy beyond measure and is peace beyond understanding.

Search for him and read the Bible if you can find it and pray to him and ask him to reveal himself and ask him to show you truth and ask him to give you courage.

He will answer because he answered me and he will answer you and he is seeking you and he is calling your name and he is knocking on your door.

Open and let him in and let him save you and let him free you and let him love you.

I know you are afraid and I was afraid and I am still afraid sometimes.

But a perfect love casts out fear. And his love is perfect and his love is complete and his love never fails.

And his love will hold you and will carry you and will sustain you.

Trust him and follow him and obey him because he will not let you down and he will not abandon you and he will not forsake you.

Find other believers if you can and find church even if underground and even if secret and even if dangerous because you need family and you need body and you need support.

Do not walk alone because we are stronger together and we are safer together and we are better together and church is not building.

Church is people and church is us and church is wherever believers gather in his name.

Be wise and be careful and do not be reckless but be brave and be faithful and be obedient.

Count the cost and know what you are choosing and know what you are losing but do not let fear stop you and do not let shame trap you and do not let religion bind you.

Jesus came to uh set captives free and you are captive and Islam is prison and Sharia is chained and religion is death but Jesus is life.

I am praying for you and I pray every day for women in Iran and for secret believers and for seekers and for the hungry and for the broken and for the hopeless.

I pray Jesus finds you. And I pray he reveals himself. And I pray he gives you courage.

And I pray he opens doors. And I pray he makes ways. I pray he protects you.

And I pray he saves you. You’re not alone. And you are not forgotten. And you are seen and you are known and you are loved.

Jesus loves you and he knows your name and he counts your tears and he hears your prayers and he is coming for you and he will never stop pursuing you.

Run to him and run to life and run to freedom and run to love.

This is my testimony and this is my story and this is what Jesus did for me and this is who Jesus is to me.

He found me in Iran and in Tran and in my darkness and in my prison and in my death.

And he called my name and he saved me and he freed me and he changed me and he gave me life, real life and eternal life and abundant life.

He can do same for you and he wants to do same for you and he is doing same for you right now as you read this.

He is working and he is moving and he is calling. So answer him and trust him and follow him.

He is the way and the only way and the true way and the living way and there is no other name and no other way and no other hope.

Only Jesus and always Jesus and forever Jesus. I am Shireen Azidi and I was Muslim and now I am Christian and I was slave and now I am free.

I was lost and now I am found and I was dead and now I am alive and I was blind and now I see and I was bound and now I am free.

All because of Jesus and only because of Jesus and everything because of Jesus. Come to him and come to life and come to freedom and come to love and come