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Lina's Holy Struggle

Gary Riner




  Lina’s Holy Struggle

  Young Women of God Series (Book 1)

  By Gary Riner

  Copyright© 2014 Gary Riner

  The plight of many Christians in the Middle East is tenuous at best. In many countries the simple act of sharing one’s Christian faith can prove fatal on the spot. Government persecution can be just as repressive. The accusation of Christianity could be terrifying whether true or not. There can be no illusion of “easy believe-ism” here. Under these conditions, how would you react if you were, like Lina, accused of Christianity?

  From Oxford Dictionaries online:

  Greater jihad:

  The spiritual struggle within one’s self against sin.

  Many thanks to Shalom and Tiffy for editing this book.

  Cover photo of the Mosque by Stephanie Gormann

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 Taken

  Chapter 2 Punished for Apostasy

  Chapter 3 Martyrs

  Chapter 4 Deny Yeshua? and ARRIVAL!

  Chapter 5 Eternally Lost?

  Chapter 6 A Wonderful Dream

  Chapter 7 Exalted Father

  Chapter 8 Greenest Eyes

  Chapter 9 Jewish?

  Chapter 10 Jumu’ah

  Chapter 11 Trip Planning

  Chapter 12 Christianity Again

  Chapter 13 Paris

  Chapter 14 Abducted

  Chapter 15 To Israel

  Chapter 16 Son of Mary

  Chapter 17 Haste

  Chapter 18 Contract

  Chapter 19 Mary’s Little Lamb’s Blood Purifies

  Chapter 20 Two for the Price of One

  Chapter 21 Neelan’s Visitors

  Chapter 22 Departures

  Chapter 23 Second Visit

  Chapter 24 A Terrible Sound

  Chapter 25 Two by Sea

  Chapter 26 Zion

  Chapter 27 Up to Jerusalem

  Chapter 28 Darkness Out and Moving In

  Chapter 29 Confession

  Chapter 30 First Shabbat

  Chapter 31 Kotel

  Chapter 32 It is Here! and THE Dream

  Chapter 33 Found

  Chapter 34 Famous Against Her Will

  Chapter 35 Facing Achmed

  Chapter 36 Fulfilment of the Contract

  Chapter 37 THE Shabbat

  Chapter 38 Meeting the Press

  Chapter 39 The Blood

  Chapter 40 Caught! and Whipped?

  Chapter 41 Mother

  Chapter 42 The Witch

  Chapter 43 A Guarded Prayer

  Chapter 44 Would She Do It

  Chapter 45 Go or Stay, an Answer for Two

  Chapter 46 The Rough Landing

  Chapter 47 Questions

  Chapter 48 Free

  Chapter 49 Midweek

  Chapter 50 Planning Lina’s Departure

  Chapter 51 Time

  Chapter 52 To all Monotheists

  Chapter 53 Newest Arrival

  Chapter 1 Taken

  Tehran Iran: Lina heard a knock at the front door of the apartment where she and her parents lived. Not giving the knock a second thought (her mother or father would answer it) she momentarily returned to reading her New Testament. A loud crash startled her to her feet. Her mother began to scream. Lina ran into the living room to find two masked men wrestling her father to the floor. Another had twisted her mother’s arms behind her back. Lina thought to run for help, but who would she turn to. Her family had become increasingly unpopular since they had become believers in Yeshua. She thought to try and attack one of the assailants, but she would be no match for their large muscular builds.

  Her father was quickly subdued and one of his two attackers turned his attentions toward Lina. She didn’t make it into her bedroom before she was apprehended. He twisted her arms painfully behind her back and secured her wrists with a plastic wire tie. A black cloth bag was placed over her head and her attacker began to drag her from the apartment she had grown up in. She would never see the apartment again.

  Lina’s cries for help were unheeded. She could hear apartment doors close as each resident decided not to interfere as she was led away captive. Gravels crunched underfoot. A hand pushed her head down as she sprawled into the back seat of the awaiting sedan. “Mother,” she sobbed through the black cloth as the car drove onto the highway, traffic lighter on Teheran’s streets at this time in the evening. “Shut up, silly girl,” her kidnapper said as he grabbed her hair through the cloth twisting her head back, “Your parents can’t help you now. Pray to Yeshua. He can’t help you either”. At this point she was sure that her abduction was by religious fanatics. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she felt fear beyond anything she had ever known.

  When the car stopped, she was led inside a building. She heard a heavy steel door close behind her. Her situation was worse than she could possibly imagine. There were many unmarked prisons in and around Teheran. She was thrown into a cell still tied and hooded. The foul smell was overpowering, the darkness was oppressive, and she became more frightened as hours passed. Finally someone turned on a light in her cell and entered to remove the binding and hood. He did not speak at all and promptly left. Her cell was as filthy as her sense of smell had told her. It was about one and half meters wide and two meters long with a cot on one side and a filthy bucket in the corner. Hours passed slowly as she worried about her parents, as well as her own situation.

  The single light bulb overhead continued to burn. With no window, estimating the passage of time was difficult. Scuffling was sometimes heard in the corridor. Was that a prisoner being taken away? When would they come for her? Sometimes distant sobbing could be heard as well as occasional faint traffic noise. Someone would occasionally lift the flap covering the small opening in the door. Footsteps outside her cell marked the arrival of a plate of food which was slid under her door. She pleaded for the unseen person to talk to her to no avail. The first time food arrived she didn’t bother to pick it up. Soon her hunger overtook her reluctance. With each delivery the plate contained a thin brown gruel, stale bread, and warm water.

  She had seldom been away from her parents, and had never before been completely isolated. Tears were soon exhausted, and periods of severe trembling followed. How long would she waste away in this dark place? Surely they would come for her, but what would happen to her then?

  She began to spend most of her time praying. Prayers for the safety of her parents usually left her with a sense of loss. She knew a time of testing had come and more was coming. The family knew that the cost of becoming a believer in Yeshua could be high. The cost was higher and sooner than she could have anticipated. Yet she held fast her faith in the One God through Yeshua his only Son.

  A friend her father Nasim met during a work related travel assignment, tried repeatedly to influence the family’s faith. Just after her only brother was killed in a traffic accident, her father spent some time with the Christian friend and became a believer. Lina had been very young and barely remembered her brother. Nasim had not pushed Lina religiously, and she made up her own mind while reading the well worn New Testament. The beauty of the love of the Creator jumped from the pages into her heart. She believed in the Carpenter’s Son. The demons believed too but trembled. Would she follow Him whatever the cost? She had, and her whole “being” broke forth like a pure fresh spring.

  After Nasim became a Christian, he dreaded letting his friends and family know. Most he didn’t tell. But there was one that would have to know: his childhood friend Dahar. Nas
im’s visit to his friend’s apartment had not gone well, as he had feared. Dahar’s welcome was as warm as usual, but Dahar could see that there was something on Nasim’s mind. “Tell me, Nasim, what is troubling you?”

  Dahar had finally said to him, “We have been friends since we were boys in the village, and I don’t recall ever seeing you so down for no reason.”

  “Oh, there is reason,” Nasim replied. “I miss our friendship already.”

  “What are you talking about, Nasim?”

  “I’m sorry, Dahar, but Lina can’t marry your son. The contract will have to be void.”

  “Why not, for God’s sake?”

  “Dahar, I have become a Christian.”

  Dahar looked at him, stunned for a moment. “Nasim, is this some kind of sick joke?”

  “No, Dahar, it is no joke.”

  Dahar sat quietly for a few moments as he absorbed the reality of what Nasim had told him. “A Christian?”

  Nasim nodded affirmatively. Dahar finally looked away and replied in a low voice, “Get out of my house and don’t come back. I no longer know anyone named ‘Nasim’.” Yes, it had gone as badly as he had feared. He had lost his best friend, and he knew that Dahar would not be the last.

  Chapter 2 Punished for Apostasy

  Footsteps approached, and her cell door clattered open. After so long it seemed strange to again see another human. An older lady stood before her, a scarf covering her face. “Come with me,” the matron ordered in a flat tone. In spite of the fear that raced through Lina, it felt good to walk out of the cell and down the corridor. She was shown into another room, well lit and fresh smelling, with a table and two chairs. A short time later, a man in his mid-twenties entered the room.

  “My name is Achmed. I will be acting as your kinsmen.”

  “Where are my parents? Why are you holding me here like this?” Lina blurted out freely, feeling no threat or intimidation from this nicely dressed young man. He pulled out a chair.

  “Sit down and I will answer your questions.” Taking the seat across from her, he began. “You know that it is a capital offence for a Muslim to depart from the faith. I’m sorry, but your: parents are no longer among the living. May Allah have mercy on them.” Lina sat in stunned silence as Achmed waited for her to absorb the grief that the revelation must carry. Tears again filled her eyes which she thought had been permanently drained. After a few minutes, Lina again made eye contact with Achmed, tears still streaming down her face. He continued, “Our concern is what will happen to you now. You might be guilty of the same crime. Are you a believer in Allah and Mohammed his prophet?” Achmed waited patiently as Lina considered her answer carefully.

  She recalled the verse, “If you deny me before men I will deny you before the Father.” She could not deny what she believed. She dropped her head and gaze as she answered softly, “No.”

  Achmed spoke softly in reply, “Surely your parents have pressured you to deny Allah and Mohammed. If that is the case, you must tell me now, it will go well with you.”

  Her eyes met his, “No, they did not pressure me. I now follow Yeshua, the Son of the Creator, of my own choice and free will.”

  Achmed drew back his right hand and was moments away from striking Lina. She flinched, feeling her first fear of this man. He slowly lowered his hand and continued his admonishment gently with obvious difficulty. He was surprised at how quickly his temper had been kindled against one who denied faith in Allah and Mohammed. “You will be punished for this foolishness. It is only your youth that prevents you from promptly receiving the full penalty for this crime. After you are punished you will be given some time to reflect on your error. Then you will repent and embrace Allah and his prophet.”

  “I can’t do that,” Lina began to explain.

  “You can and you will,” insisted Achmed strongly. “Your only choice is how much discomfort you wish to endure beforehand. There are people here who can make you beg for that opportunity to repent. You are too young to endure this.”

  “No, I won’t repent,” fear causing her voice to tremble.

  Achmed stood quickly causing his chair to fall, and walked from the room without looking back or saying another word. Some minutes later the matron opened the door and led Lina away. She was surprised to be taken past her old cell through another corridor. The cells here looked about the same as the one that she had been in previously. The smell and filth were certainly about the same. The matron warned her not to speak to anyone unless she was spoken to.

  She was shoved into a similar room as the cell door clanked heavily behind her. She just stood there trembling for a long time as she remembered what Achmed had said. Perhaps this was her punishment. The thought was fresh on her mind when there was a long shriek of a person in severe pain. Some voices could be heard, but not understood, as if questioning or threatening someone, and the shrieking would begin again. Chills ran up her back each time she heard the inhuman sound. The sound quieted just long enough for her to fall asleep. She was jarred awake by the next bout of shrieking. No, it was different this time, a higher pitch, perhaps a woman’s voice. The sound continued for an unbearably long time until the person was dragged through the corridor in front of Lina’s cell sobbing. Each time footsteps were heard Lina’s heart would race at the thought that they were coming for her. A cell door nearby would be opened, and pleading for mercy would begin. The pattern continued until she fell asleep in spite of the pitiful cries of the tormented.

  Lina’s father, Nasim, knew that his change in faith was widespread when his boss at work began to cut back on Nasim’s hours. Nasim was needed for less and less work. Only the difficult jobs unwanted by his coworkers were sufficient to cause him to be called in. There were comments made behind his back, “Old fool,” or, “He won’t last long.” He didn’t really mind for himself, but he was concerned for his family. His wife and remaining child were affected too, but they had the same right to believe in the Creator as Nasim did. It didn’t keep him from worrying about them. He prayed for them often. In spite of all this, Nasim had peace in his heart.

  After an unusually difficult day at work, Nasim was approached by two men that asked to speak with him. It was soon obvious that they were with the secret police. “Nasim, you attend house church services in worship of the Carpenter’s Son at Kacperek’s apartment,” stated one of the men.

  “No, I don’t know the place,” Nasim replied.

  “Don’t toy with us Nasim. We know where you go and where you don’t,” replied the annoyed man.

  “It’s not true,” Nasim tried to convince them, “I don’t attend a home church.”

  “We know that you do. Next week we will come to see you again, and you are to have a list of all the people’s names that attend at Kacperek’s apartment. Nasim watched the two walk away. He now had a real problem. If he had attended at Kacperek’s apartment he wouldn’t want to supply the list and endanger other believers, but in reality he didn’t even know a Kacperek. He and his family worshipped alone. The attack on his home came days after he failed to supply the list or convince the secret police that he didn’t attend there.

  The pattern of pitiful cries continued for what must have been several days. Her fitful sleeping periods were filled with horrific dreams and her waking hours with the screams. She was unable to keep the brown gruel down very long. She was almost glad when her cell door finally swung open. At least the waiting was over. She stood to face the two guards. One took her arm and turned her around. Her wrists were tied behind her back and the familiar bag was placed over her head. The bag was damp and smelled as if someone had recently thrown up in it. She was marched down the corridor to the room at the end. The guards lifted her onto a table, face down. Her ankles were bound in place to the corners of the table, and the guards left. The sound of her heart beating pounded in her ears and had only begun to subside when the door opened. The “attendants” were carrying on a casual conversation as they entered.
“Just this last one, and we’re out of here for the day. My wife is still out of town. I’ll have to catch a meal out before going to Mosque.”

  “Lina, do you know why you are being punished?” asked one of the attendants.

  “Yes, Achmed said for leaving the Muslim faith,” she admitted.

  The unseen tormenter added, “Remember this so that your foolishness will not lead you astray in the future. We do this in the hope that Allah may have mercy on you and spare you eternal torment with the unbelievers. We pray that Allah will help us to do this correction well.” Someone in the room slipped off her shoes. The conversation continued between her tormenters.

  “I thought that you were going to try the fiberglass rod on this one.” The hair stood up on the back of Lina’s neck, and she trembled uncontrollably.

  “That’s right. I was about to break another wooden dowel for no good reason.”

  “Where did you get that fiberglass?”

  “It is the end of a fishing pole with the hardware removed.” A high pitched whine through the air ended in the contact of the rod with the bottom of Lina’s bare foot. Lina arched her back and shrieked with all of the air that was in her lungs as she had heard so many other inmates do before her. The whine and striking continued at a random interval, sometimes with one quickly following another and at other times with a considerable lag. She couldn’t help wailing and arching her back with each strike. She pleaded with them to stop, but they ignored her and continued the casual conversation as if this was all in a day’s work, and for them it was.

  “Let me try that rod for a few licks. I just want to get a feel for the weight and swing.” The punishment seemed to last forever. Her tormenters only wanted to punish those in error to Allah’s Law and prided themselves in differentiating the fine line between merely excruciating and causing real damage. That “line” was finally reached. Lina was exhausted and drenched in perspiration by the time they were “through” with her. She was untied and one of her torturers picked her up and carried her back to her cell. This was a strange act of kindness for which she was thankful. She tried to sleep, but the aching persisted and made it difficult. She had been surprised to only see bruising. The pain would not have been worse if the skin had been flayed off. When she finally did nod off, the shrieking had begun again. She felt embarrassed at the thought that it was “better them than her.”