By age 34, Nasir Siddiki, a successful business man, had made his
first million, but money meant nothing to him on his deathbed. Diagnosed
with the worst case of shingles ever admitted to Toronto General
Hospital , his immune system shut down and doctors left him to die.
Left to Die
The next morning I woke in a sterile room on the eighth floor of the
hospital, my skin burning as though someone had doused me in gasoline
and lit a match. I felt on fire from the inside out.
My doctor arrived and looked at me in wonder. “The blisters are
multiplying so fast I can literally watch them grow,” he said. ‘”Your
body isn’t fighting back.”
The next morning, in addition to shingles, I had chicken pox from head
to toe. I was put in strict isolation. That evening my temperature
soared to 107.6 degrees — hot enough to leave my brain permanently
scrambled.
For days I continued to deteriorate. My nerve endings became so
inflamed that a hair drifting across my skin sent shock waves of fire
rippling through my body. By week’s end, I was listed in critical
condition.
My Last Hope
In life, I’d been bold, self confident, a risk taker. But facing death, I
was terrified. I had no idea what might await me on the other side. I’d
been raised as a Muslem inLondon , England , and I understood Allah was
not a god who heals.
My only hope was in medicine.
I eventually slipped so close to death that the doctors didn’t know I
could hear them when they examined me. “His immune system has simply
shut down,” one of them said.
“He’s dying,” the other confirmed. “His immune system must be compromised by AIDS.”
I don’t have AIDS! I wanted to shout, but I couldn’t form the words. Then it hit me. He said I’m dying!
The doctors spoke quietly to my co-worker, Anita. “In a few hours he’ll
be dead,” they said. “If by some miracle he lives, he’ll probably be
blind in his right eye, deaf in his right ear, paralyzed on his right
side and he may be severely brain damaged from the high fever.”
Then they left.
They left me here to die! I felt like a drowning man going down for the
third time. Gathering my strength I whispered a prayer. “God, if you’re
real, don’t let me die!”
In His Presence
During the darkest hour of the night, I woke and saw a man at the foot
of my bed. Rays of light emanated from him, allowing me to see his
outline. I couldn’t see his face, it was too bright. No one had to tell
me, I knew it was Jesus.
The Koran mentions Jesus; Moslems believe He existed, not as the son of
God, but as a good man and a prophet. I knew this wasn’t Mohammed. I
knew it wasn’t Allah. Jesus was in my room. There was no fear, only
peace.
“Why would You come to a Moslem when everyone else has left me to die?” I wondered.
Without words, he spoke to me. “I Am the God of the Christians. I Am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.”
That’s all He said. He didn’t mention my illness. He didn’t mention my impending death. As suddenly as He appeared, He was gone.
The next morning, the same two doctors arrived to examine me. “The blisters have stopped growing!”
“We don’t know what happened, but the shingles virus has gone into remission!”
The following day, still in pain and covered with blisters, I was
discharged from the hospital with a suitcase full of drugs. “Don’t leave
home,” the doctor cautioned. “It will be months before the blisters go
away, and when they do you’ll be left with white patches of skin and
scars. The pain could last for years.”
Stepping outside into the morning sun, I looked like a cross between a
leper and the Elephant Man. When people saw me, they crossed to the other
side of the street. However, my mind was not on my looks; my thoughts
were on Jesus. There was no doubt in my mind that Jesus’ presence in my
room had stopped theshingles virus. Whatever else Jesus may be, I
realized that in His presence miracles happened.
That fact left me with one consuming question: Is Jesus the Son of God
as the Christians claim, or is He just a prophet as I was taught?
At home that evening, in spite of the drugs, the pain and itching was so
severe I almost had to tie my hands. Even so, I fell into a restless
sleep wondering about Jesus.
Learning to Live
The next morning, I woke early and turned on the television. Flipping
through the channels, I froze when I saw the following words across the
screen: Is Jesus the Son of God?
I listened intently as two men spent the entire program discussing this
topic — answering all of my questions. Before the show went off the air,
one of the men led the television audience in a prayer. My body was
aflame with pain but I knelt on myliving room floor anyway. Tears
streaming down my face, I repeated the prayer and invited Jesus into my
heart.
Immediately a voracious spiritual hunger sprang up within me. I had to
know more about Jesus. In spite of my doctor’s orders to stay inside,
the next day I went out and bought a Bible. First I read the books of
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Still ravenous, I started in Genesis and
read through the Bible during my sleepless nights.
Meanwhile, Anita brought me books and teaching tapes explaining the
Gospel. I devoured them while continuing to study the Word of God. As my
understanding of faith began to grow, I dug out a picture of how I
looked before shingles. I prayed and asked God to make me look that way
again.
Jesus, My Healer
One week after my discharge from the hospital, I woke and found my
pillow covered in blisters. I must have clawed them in my sleep, I
thought. I crawled out of bed and stepped into the shower. What had
started on my pillow was finished in theshower: Every blister fell off
my body!
Instead of being covered with patches of white and scar tissue, my skin
was simply red and raw. It slowly healed, returning to its
pre-shingles condition. When it did, I not only looked human, I looked
like I did before I got sick, except for the scars that I still carry on
my chest.
None of the doctor’s dire predictions came true. My eyesight was 20/20.
Myhearing was normal. My speech was unimpaired. I suffered no brain
damage.
My healing was miraculous, swift and complete. I never suffered from
lingering pain or any other complication. Not only did I have the worst
case of shingles ever admitted to Toronto General Hospital , I also had
the most miraculous recovery.
Jesus, the God of the Christians, showed up in the hospital room of a
dying Moslem and healed me. But that wasn’t the greatest miracle He
performed. The transformation that occurred in my heart was even more
dramatic than the one that occurred in my body.
An international teacher and evangelist, Dr. Nasir Siddiki is the
founder of Wisdom Ministries (WisdomMinistries.org). He lives in Tulsa,
OK with his wife Anita and their two sons.
Please share this wonderful testimony with others and help spread the Gospel of JESUS CHRIST.
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