Hope in the hospital

Once I was called by a nurse in a Middle Eastern hospital who was taking care of a young man with a terminal disease. Because I spoke Arabic, the nurse asked me if I would like to talk to her deathly ill young patient, which I did. I could tell he was very scared of dying. He was holding tightly to my hand as I talked to him about Jesus. I told him if he invited Jesus into his life, He would come in, forgive all his sins, and give him peace and that when his time to die came, He would take him to heaven to live with Him. I could tell that Muhammad (not his real name) was touched. He gripped my hand and said, “I want Jesus, but I am scared to leave Islam, and I am also afraid to die a Muslim. I am afraid of the torture in the grave.” I prayed with him, gave him my phone number, and left.

Two weeks later, on the evening before I was to return home, I got a phone call from a young man who told me he was Muhammad’s friend. He informed me that Muhammad had died and that before dying, he had given him my phone number and told him to call me “because I had answers.” The young man wanted to see me. Unfortunately, it was late at night, and there was no transportation available to him in his town at that hour. Because I was leaving early the following morning, I gave him a phone number of a Christian Arabic speaker, but I personally never met him. Someday I hope to meet Muhammad and his friend in heaven!