I am a white, American who was born in the southeastern part of Tennessee.
My maternal grandmother adopted me.
My mother gave me to her immediately after I was born.
I stayed with my grandmother until the day Allah took her from this world December 23, 1992.
Although we were very poor, my grandmother stayed very religiously strong.
At the age of 16 (1975), I was introduced to drugs and alcohol by my aunt and her high school friends. I quit school 1 year before I was to graduate but I took my GED by the end of that year. I started working in order to provide a better and easier way of life for both my grandmother and myself, so I thought.
My drug and alcohol progressively became worse. The more I worked, the more I abused them both. I quit the drugs 8 years later. My alcohol dependency became stronger with no way out that I knew of at that time. Therefore, I saw that our situation in life was not going to become any better and I felt like a big failure and a loser.
My next step was to kill myself. I tried to overdose on pills but I did not take enough. Therefore, I just drank more and more alcohol over the years.
My life was no longer mine. It now belonged to the alcohol. This was my soul mate and best friend. I lived for it day in and day out. I attempted two more suicides in places where I knew no one could ever find me, so I thought. How they did it Allah only knows.
I would have succeeded both times if Allah had not sent those people to where ever I was located at the time. These places were so recluse and out of the way, I cannot even remember where they are to this day. I do not even know on how I arrived at those places. I was too drunk.
Now, it is 1992. February of this year, I quit working because my grandmother’s health would not allow me to be away from her that much. Therefore, I started going out to drink and party with my so-called friends after she would go to bed.
December the 23rd of this year, Allah took her from me. This is where my whole world crumbled out from under me. I drank as much as I could and as long as I could for 4 months. It is now April of 1993. My best and only real friend threatened to leave and never return if I did not get help. I went into a treatment center three different times repeatedly over a period of 3 years. These treatments were for depression, anxiety, stress, and of course, alcohol addiction.
Things become addiction at the time a person loses self-control and allows whatever it is that he/she is abusing to take over completely. One never has control over substance abuse. I mean never. That is an elusive fallacy to think otherwise. Loss of control starts at the first drink and/or the first pill.
Now, it is May 1995 the 28th. I made the Shahadah. Let us back up 2 days. Someone that I knew was staying with me. We were having our usual night of drinking and partying.
The subject on religion came up in conversation. He was or is Catholic and I was brought up as a Christian. At this time, I had not even thought about religion for at least 10 to 15 years that I know of. I thought that this was going to be a religious bashing conversation but, it turned into something very special to me.
This person knew that I was very negative towards religion due to past experiences with hypocrites and being abused by the ones inside the family. He asked me if I had ever heard about Muslims or Islam and I said, “no, is it just another group that likes to go for worship on one or two nights out of the week with one face and leave with their real face?”
He said that it was not like that. Islam is a 24/7 days a week and 365 days a year life-style. He knew about this from someone he lived with for seven and half years. The Muslim he lived with was from the Middle East.
This subject finally ended but, our drinking didn’t. Many hours later, I had all the alcohol I could take and went to bed. Although I was wasted on alcohol, I could not sleep. I could not even pass out like I normally would. All night long all I could hear in my head was Islam, Muslim; Islam, Muslim over and over again. It just would not stop.
Well, the next morning, after I had finally pulled myself together, I picked up the phone book just to see if there was anything listed under religion about Muslims or Islam. I found nothing. Therefore, I proceeded cleaning the big mess up.
A little time had passed. I decided to look again. I found nothing. I threw the phone book. I grabbed the vacuum cleaner and started vacuuming. I ran into that phone book again. I thought, this is it! I will look once more and if I do not find anything this time, I will never even consider anything that has to do with God again.
I picked up the book, sat down and opened it. I opened it exactly to the right page and the only thing I saw was the name of the local Muslim community. Who would ever had believed something like this could happen in a million years? I called and spoke to one of the brothers and arranged to meet with him at the Mosque.
The next day, Thursday, I called to confirm the appointment. Another brother answered but, the telephone line was giving too much static interference. He heard just enough to contact the other brother with my message. I had to yell to accomplish this. That brother had arranged transportation for me. I went that evening and he explained to three others and myself about the basics of Islam.
Well, everything sounded fascinating but, I told him that I needed to go home and give it some more thought after he had given the invitation to make Shahadah. I went home and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. I opened it but, this time I only took a few sips of it and threw the rest away. I went to bed early but, I tossed and turned all night long. All I could think about was becoming a Muslim.
Me, a poor white male, who had been searching for something better out of life, becoming a Muslim. What a head spin. Why? Because of the way in which I was guided and the thoughts of my becoming a member of another religious organization.
The next day, Friday the 28th, I called him and told him that I wanted to be a Muslim. He arranged for me a ride to the Mosque and gave me the Shahadah in front of everyone that night after they prayed Salat Al-`Isha’. That was the most exciting night for me even though I was a nervous wreck and scared to death, almost.
I moved from my apartment and went back to where my best friend was living. He, his roommate and all the others that I knew at the time made fun of me for becoming a Muslim. A few months later, I moved to the university campus in order to be closer to the Mosque and to get away from the alcohol.
Winter is now just starting and the heat was so bad in my new apartment that I almost froze to death. In addition, I discovered that I would have died that winter due to some health problems that I never knew that they had developed over the years due to intoxication of alcohol.
The brothers watched over me day and night that whole winter. They even moved me into the Mosque for several months in order for my staying warm and to where it would be easier for them to take care of me.
I still cry over this because Allah gave me another chance and stopped me from dying outside of His graces and mercy. I cannot explain how honored and grateful I am for this golden opportunity and for Allah bringing me to where I am today. I hope and pray with all my heart and soul that others will do the same.
Also, may Allah bless and make it easier for all my brothers and sisters all over the world as much as it was made for me.
If anyone ever has an opportunity in reading this, I hope and pray that he/she is going to be as spiritually and emotionally moved as I am now.
Just being able to be here writing this is a miracle from Allah. Amen.