Manar’s story, Middle East

My name is Manar. I’m a pastry chef, a mother of three–ages 10, 11, and 12–and a widow for eight years. When my youngest was still a toddler, my husband became a believer in Christ. I, however, wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, the more he talked about his faith, the more resistant I became. I dug in my heels and eventually declared myself an atheist.

After he passed away, I decided, only to honor his wishes, to take our children to Sunday school at a church I’d heard about. While they were in class, I would sit through the main service, but not to listen. I took notes on what to argue against. I wanted to prove the preacher wrong, to show that this whole thing was an illusion. I even joined the ladies’ Bible study, not to learn, but to challenge and snap back at anyone who spoke up. My heart was hard, and my face showed it. I carried anger like armor.

But something happened that I never expected. Week after week, as I sat in that BMA church, I started to notice something different. The people there showed me a love I couldn’t explain. The Word of God began to cut through my defenses. And little by little, God revealed Himself to me–through their kindness, their patience, and His undeniable grace.

Last November, I was baptized.

Through a women’s ministry that many of you support here in the Middle East, God completed the story He started years ago. I found Jesus. I found a church family that loves and disciples me. And I found a way to use the talents He gave me for His glory. I bake bread for communion, make sweets for fellowship, teach kitchen courses, and even open my home each week for a Bible study. The same woman who once argued against believers is now serving them with joy.

My name, Manar, means a source of light. Today, by God’s grace, I finally understand that name. He has turned my darkness into light, and now I want to shine that light as brightly as I can, for His glory.