A call from a former Muslim - Before celebration, we need discipleship

There is something profoundly beautiful about a personal testimony. When someone encounters Jesus — truly encounters Him — it feels as though heaven itself pauses to rejoice. The Church claps, cheers, and celebrates the miracle of a heart awakened. And rightly so. We should rejoice when a soul comes alive.

But over the years, as I’ve watched many of these celebrations, I’ve also noticed something missing — something Jesus considered essential.

Testimonies attract attention, but discipleship builds foundations.
Celebration lasts a moment, but discipleship lasts a lifetime.

I would like to share with you from my experience as a Muslim Background Believer (MBB).

My Story: Joy, Confusion, and a Quiet Loneliness

When I first came to faith in Jesus, my heart overflowed. I had encountered the living Christ. I knew He was real. I knew He had saved me. In those first days, it felt as though my world had been turned right-side up in the most glorious way.

But at the same time, everything around me seemed to be falling apart.

Coming from a Muslim background, my decision was not just a private spiritual awakening — it was an uprooting of identity, community, and belonging. People who once felt familiar and safe suddenly seemed distant. The world I had always known no longer fit the person I was becoming.

And many invited me to share my story.
I stood before crowds, told them how Jesus had changed my life, and watched their faces light up with excitement. Their joy was sincere, and I was grateful. In those moments, it felt as if God was weaving purpose into my pain.

But when the lights dimmed and the crowds went home, a different reality settled over me like a heavy silence.
I was left with questions I didn’t know how to ask — questions that echoed in the quiet of my room.
How do I follow Jesus in this new life? How do I face the loneliness that comes with leaving my old world behind?

The public celebration was real, but the private confusion was just as real.

I began to realize that while my testimony was heard, my walk was not guided.
What I needed was not another stage.
I needed a companion. A mentor. A friend.
Someone who would walk with me and show me what it truly means to follow Jesus day by day.

Why Celebration Without Discipleship Hurts More Than It Helps

I learned quickly that my experience was not unique. Many MBBS believers carry the same unspoken ache — a quiet grief hidden behind courageous smiles.

They are celebrated publicly but forgotten privately.
Welcomed at the altar but left alone in the journey.
Admired for their courage but rarely discipled in their calling.

Some are even placed on platforms too soon. Not because they are ready, but because their story sounds powerful. And while testimonies inspire, they can also expose a new believer to pressures they are not prepared to bear.

Because the truth is simple:
Celebration without discipleship creates fragile faith.

Jesus never commanded us to “go and create converts.”
He commanded us to make disciples, teaching them to obey everything He taught (Matthew 28:19–20).

Discipleship is not optional.
It is not an extra ministry.
It is the heart of the Great Commission.

What Discipleship Really Means

Discipleship is not a course or a booklet.
It is not information — it is imitation.
It is a life shared, a journey walked side by side.

Discipleship looks like:

• someone opening Scripture with you week after week

• someone helping you unlearn old lies and embrace new truths

• someone teaching you how to pray, how to repent, how to forgive, how to endure

• someone who listens without judgment when the loneliness becomes overwhelming

• someone reminding you, gently and consistently: “You’re not alone.”

It is slow work.
Inconvenient work.
Sometimes even painful work.

But it is also sacred work — the very work Jesus gave us.

The Weight Many MBBs Believers Carry

Those of us coming from Muslim backgrounds often bear burdens the Church may never fully see:

• the quiet grief of losing family and familiarity

• the fear of being misunderstood by our old community

• the pressure to stay strong because others admire our courage

• the temptation to return to old patterns when loneliness grows heavy

• the confusion of living between two worlds but belonging fully to neither

These are real wounds.
And wounds like these do not heal through applause.

They heal through discipleship.
Through presence.
Through relationships that endure.

We do not need a stage — we need a friend.
Not for a moment, but for a lifetime.

A Call to the Church: Walk With Us

The Church has a holy responsibility:  to nurture new believers with tenderness, wisdom, and intentional love.

If God brings someone new into your fellowship — especially someone whose conversion comes with deep personal cost — don’t simply applaud their testimony.

Walk with them.
Sit with them.
Listen to them.
Pray for them.
Stand beside them as they rebuild their life in Christ.

Ask the Lord to show you:

• Who in my church needs a mentor?

• Who is quietly struggling behind a smile?

• Who celebrates on Sunday but cries alone on Monday?

• Whose young faith needs steady hands to guide it?

Spiritual maturity does not come from applause. It comes from relationship.

My Prayer for the Church

My prayer is simple but deep:

May the Church not only celebrate conversion stories,
but commit to cultivating spiritual growth.
May new believers not only be welcomed into God’s family,
but rooted, strengthened, and discipled.

Because it is discipleship — slow, faithful, patient discipleship — that helps us stand firm.
It is discipleship that keeps us firm when storms come.
It is discipleship that shapes us into the image of Christ.

It is discipleship that makes celebration last.

So, I ask gently, sincerely:

Who in your community is quietly waiting for someone to walk with them?
And how might God be calling you to be that person?