The Stories
Posted April 23. 2009-This is the story of Trina Mumallah
I moved to the Chesterfield area last August. It was anything but a smooth transition. I was in a battle with God. It was a battle of purpose. For the past 5 or 6 years I went to undergraduate pursuing animal science and veterinary medicine. It seemed like that was His purpose for my life and it was a perfect fit for me as I love and have such a passion for caring for all of God's creatures. He blessed me with many opportunities in working with animals as still does occasionally, and thus I felt like that was my purpose in life. AS graduation neared and the pressure for applying to veterinary school increased it felt like such a struggle. School, the application process, the standardized tests, and every detail even the actual interview at UTK was overwhelming and felt impossible. I found myself stunned in that what I had planned for myself was falling through. I was very angry at God and confused because I thought He and I were on the same page. I had started looking into Chiropractic school in the spring of my last year at Austin Peay. It wasn't until the last summer than I made the final decision to go to Logan. Still confused and anxious about the decision I made to come here I picked up and moved to Missouri. By this time I felt like God had completely abandoned me and I had more or less stopped having a real relationship with him. While I still believed in God, I was not talking to him or spending any time in the Bible. It was a pretty rocky time in my life. I felt like everyday was a struggle to get up and go to school and I kept questioning why I was here.
Growing up in the Bible belt I was used to having a strong circle of Christian friends I could look to for support, but when I got here it was like I was in culture shock. The people were so different. Not everyone shared my beliefs, which is expected in life but it was so different from I was accustomed to. I felt apart little by little each day as I strayed farther from God. I missed the church I used to attend in Tennessee and I missed being able to talk about my spiritual struggles with Godly friends. I needed the fellowship that a church provides. I decided to start visiting churches in the area and see if there were any similar to the style of worship I was used to. After visiting two different churches for several weeks I felt no change. I still felt stranded and like no one understood how I felt. I went through the pattern for the entire first trimester I was here.
Finally after the New Year, I told myself something had to give. I saw West Hills when I was on my way back from a visit to Tennessee. It's funny how sometimes exactly what you need is staring you right in the face. That is true of West Hills. It was just minutes from my apartment and I was amazed when I came to visit. The first thing I noticed is that the greeter, Abby, immediately introduced herself to me and invited me to sit with her family. I immediately felt comfortable. About the third week I had been visiting there were guest speakers from Turkey. I remember the Turkish ministry preaching with such excitement and passion. I looked around the worship center and could see some people were having trouble understanding him because of his accent. I however, could follow him perfectly. It was the most basic of messages, yet so profound because of his passionate story. That Sunday was profound for me because of my family history. My father is a Muslim from Jordan. He and my mother were married very young. My mom was young in her faith and thought love would conquer their religious differences. Once they moved to Oklahoma because my father got a great job there as a research chemist, things began to change. He became very abusive to my mother both emotionally and physically. She told me she used to believe it was her punishment for being disobedient to God in entering into an unevenly yoked relationship. As time progressed the abuse was worse. He threatened her life many times. After I was born they had discussed presenting both religious backgrounds to me and letting me choose how to live my life. While it seemed like a fair plan; that isn't exactly how it went down. She wanted more than anything to raise me in a Godly home; knowing Christ but it was forbidden by my father. She used to sneak me to church during the day while he was at work. Being so excited about all the new songs I had learned I used to sit and sing "Jesus loves the little children" and when my father came home and heard me he used to abuse my mother for taking me to church. Finally after ten years of marriage, my mother realized she could not raise a child in such a volatile environment. She sought counseling through a local church and plotted our escape. It was over a week long business trip that my father went on that we left Oklahoma and started our lives together in Tennessee. I watched her fight with him throughout my life through the court system. He fought her over visitation, child support, etc. I was exhausting and expensive for her but she never once regretted her choice to raise me knowing Christ.
Following the service at church I felt lead to approach the Turkish minister. I briefly explained my family history. He embraced me and seemed to know exactly what had gone on and what my mother experienced. We chatted for a few minutes and he looked at me and said you have such a great responsibility to love and pray for you father, even though he has hurt both you and your mother. We finished talking and he looked at me and said I will not forget you and will pray for you everyday. I walked to my car and just sat and cried for a few minutes. It was the realization that my father was truly lost and does not know Christ that got to me. When you stop and think of all the people you know in your daily life who are lost it can really make you away of your Christian responsibilities. I felt burdened to contact him; though our communication has been sporadic. I went home Sunday afternoon and wrote him an email. While I never got a response back from him I still feel that I did as God would have me to do. I do not feel discouraged; I feel amazingly blessed to have met the Turkish missionary and just knowing that he is now praying for me and my father too, is a great comfort.