The story of Dia

I was just a girl when my life was decided for me. My marriage was arranged in the way it has been for generations — a traditional Muslim union, chosen by our families. I entered my husband’s home not as a cherished wife, but as someone expected to serve, to be silent, and to bear whatever came my way.

From the very beginning, abuse became my daily reality. My husband’s anger was like a constant storm, and his family treated me as if I were the household’s slave. Every chore, every burden, every insult fell on me. Words were used like weapons, and sometimes hands were too. Over time, the bruises on my body faded, but the bruises on my soul remained. I stopped feeling. I stopped hoping. I began to believe that my life was nothing but a prison sentence — and I longed for it to end.

In my despair, I started looking for ways to take my own life. I wanted the pain to be over. And then, one day, in what I now know was God’s perfect timing, I turned on the television. I found your program. The speaker’s words pierced my heart as if they had been spoken just for me. It was as though God Himself was sitting in my small, dim room, whispering, “You are not forgotten. You are loved.”

From that day, I could not stop watching. Through every program, I felt God’s arms wrapping around my broken spirit. I surrendered my life to Jesus — and that was the day the prison doors in my heart swung open.

Not long after, one of my husband’s cousins fell gravely ill. Out of desperation, I shared the programs with her. As she watched, something miraculous happened — she was healed. Today, she and I are the only followers of Jesus in our entire village. We meet secretly to pray, and in those moments, we feel heaven draw near.

We still live in the middle of our Muslim community. Outwardly, nothing has changed — my head is still covered, I still follow the traditions of my home and village. But inside, I am free. I am no longer bound by fear, despair, or hopelessness. My heart belongs to my Savior, and each day I worship Him quietly, joyfully, knowing that even here, in this place of darkness, His light is shining.

I pray for the day when my husband and his family will see the change in me and come to know the same Jesus who found me in my deepest night. Until then, I will keep watching, keep praying, and keep holding on to the hope that can never be taken.